Chapter One - On the Run |
||
. . . Day broke and her flight began with a phone call. . . . Magda heard the phone ring softly but just twice - long enough to kick on the answering machine’s male voice. . . . “Hello. Thanks for calling. You have reached 212-656-9099. Please leave a message after the tone.” . . . After the tone, Magda heard a long pause on the other end and the sound of breathing. She wondered if they would hang up without speaking. . . . She had always screened her calls. A simple matter of prudence. . . . A hoarse voice began speaking and she imagined a handkerchief held over the mouth piece. . . . “Miss Mirage, we need to meet with you . . . “ . . . “Mirage” had been her deceased husband’s name but she kept it after his passing.  . . . As soon as the caller finished leaving his message, Magda was up and rummaging through a back closet. It was time to clear out. Suspicions. A vague sense of foreboding. These twinges of the past few days were suddenly confirmed. . . . It wasn’t a matter of paranoia after all. She was sure she had been tailed for several days. Subtle. Skillful. A team operation. One man ducking away. Another picking up the trail. Then a third. . . . She threw on a battered trench coat left behind several years earlier by a housekeeper whose name she could no longer recall. The woman had been taller and wider than Magda, so this coat hung like a tent. . . . She checked herself in the hall mirror. Perfect. No style at all. . . . |