The Sinai Secret

THIRTY

Sonnenfelsgasse 39

Vienna

At the Same Time

Dr. Heimlich Shaffer had lived in the second-floor walk-up behind the Academy of Sciences since his divorce eight years ago. He loved the wandering, narrow streets of the Old Town. The baroque sixteenth-century facades had a soul that was sadly lacking in the faux-Vienna Woods cottages of Nussdorf, where he and Analisa had raised their two children. He didn't miss the commute by crowded U Bahn into the city, either.

He had gotten the apartment cheap-he preferred inexpensively -when a colleague at the university had retired to somewhere in the Tyrol. Bedroom, bath, small kitchen and office, the formal living room. All his. His books, his computer with only his stuff on it, his bath with no drying panty hose dangling from the shower curtain like snakeskins.

His.

He supposed he was lonely from time to time, but his work was engaging, and he had to account to no one other than those who hired him.

Which reminded him-he hadn't asked the American about his compensation for reading the translation of these remarkable documents spread before him. The dinner had been nice, but it was hardly going to pay next month's rent, no matter how enjoyable an alternative it had been to the snacklike meals he fixed for himself. The man, Reilly, surely didn't expect advice for free. That was hardly the purpose of maintaining the Web site in four languages. It Would be reasonable…

The buzzer for the street-level entrance to the building interrupted his thoughts A visitor? Unlikely. Shaffer's only visitors were his two children, and then only on occasional weekends. Someone pressing random buttons to gain entrance, then.

A year ago, thieves had gotten in this way and taken old Frau Schiller's TV set as well assorted valuables from other tenants. Some fool had pushed the button that let them in, expecting someone else. After that the landlord should have installed an intercom so residents could identify who was pressing the buzzer on the street.

The irritating noise sounded again as he got up and checked the locks on his door.

Secure.

He was returning to his reading when the annoying sound came again.

Ignore it.

But what if it were the American with more questions? He would call, though, wouldn't he?

The damned buzzer rasped again.

Reilly or thieves?

No matter. The door onto the street was heavy oak, and he wouldn't open it all the way, just peek around to see who was causing all that racket.