Vengeance in Vienna Page 2

  Diana took a step away as the old woman greeted her family, feeling a pang of homesickness for her own children. Though Lily and Bea were grown with lives and families of their own, and though she and her husband Evan were now divorced, she still missed them. Funny, since she’d just seen them in Verona. Though it had been a crazy few days, in the end, she had to admit, she’d had fun with them.

  The old lady smiled at her. “This young woman was kind enough to help me off the train,” she explained to her family, then squeezed Diana’s hand affectionately. “Enjoy your time in Vienna! And oh, yes. . .” She leaned in and whispered in a conspiratorial way, “Since you don’t know where you’re headed, and since you’re a music lover, go that way.”

  Diana followed her pointed finger down the busy street. She could make out a few historic buildings mixed in with the modern ones, and statues of various historic and mythological figures, everywhere. There was so much to look at, she wasn’t sure what to see first. Meanwhile, travelers from all over flanked them on the wide sidewalk. “That way?”

  “Yes. I think you will like what you stumble upon.” She winked.

  “All right. Thank you!” Diana said as the family walked away, leaving her alone in the shadow of the station.

  She shivered. It was definitely colder here than it had been in Verona. Her overbearing ex, Evan, had shown up in the middle of her Italy trip with his far-too-young fiancé, and it had thrown her ideas of exploring Italy alone into a tailspin. It had wound up fine, especially when her daughters Lily and Bea had joined them, but their appearance had kind of thrown a wrench into her trip’s purpose, which was for some much-needed, soul-searching alone time.

  Now, she was truly alone. There was no one around to rely on, in case something went wrong.

  That’s fine. That’s what you want. What you need!

  Her phone dinged. She looked down to see a text from Bea, her newly-engaged youngest daughter, who was living in Japan: Are you all right?

  Was she? Could she do this herself? Without the help of her family? Part of her thought that was why they’d showed up in Italy, unannounced—because they doubted she could handle vacationing on her own. Evan, once, seemed to think she couldn’t, because she’d needed to plan everything so carefully.

  But she’d shown him. She’d made it through the adventure in Verona without his help.

  And she could do it again. She typed in: Perfect! Just arrived in Vienna!

  Yes, she could do this, relying only on herself and her own intellect and resourcefulness to make this the trip of her dreams. She tucked her phone away, determined not to rely on it, either. Now, she took a deep breath of crisp air and smiled as she looked down the street, at the direction the old woman had pointed in. A fellow-music-lover had said, I think you will like what you stumble upon.

  And she couldn’t wait to find out what it was, and what new adventure she’d find in the City of Music.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Diana plucked a tourist map from a display on a street corner, unfolded it, and stared at it.

  That lady said I’d like what I found here. But I haven’t found very much. I’m not sure what I’m looking for!

  She stopped in front of Karlskirche a magnificent Baroque cathedral with a blue dome, taking various pictures, and even a selfie, which she promptly sent to Lily to assure her that she hadn’t fallen victim to an ax murderer. Her constantly worrying eldest daughter was very worried about ax murderers, for some reason, above all the other dangers that existed out in the wide world.

  Walking around the reflecting pond at the front of the building, she read from the map: The most outstanding Baroque church in Vienna, as well as one of the city's greatest buildings, the church is dedicated to Saint Charles Borromeo, one of the great counter-reformers of the sixteenth century. She gawked at the sheer size and magnificent statues of angels holding up massive, intricately engraved columns, and the golden eagles perched around the sky-colored domes.

  But now, as she looked around, she felt a bit disappointed.

  Wow, Diana. You are not easily impressed. One of the most gorgeous pieces of architecture in the world and you can’t even summon excitement? Snap out of it.

  For some reason, though, she couldn’t. It wasn’t just a mood. It was about fulfilling a dream. The reason she’d come to Europe in the first place.

  Just another touristy sight. Lovely, but I already determined that’s not what I came to Europe for. Sure, I want to see these places. But I want more.

  She’d read somewhere, something about that. That travel, while meant to broaden one’s mind, often had the opposite effect. Instead of a well-travelled person being so thrilled by the many sights in the world, often, they became blasé about their wonder and beauty. The more you see, the harder you are to impress.

  Had she become jaded like that, after only three European cities?

  No, Diana. It’s because you haven’t yet seen what is in your heart. Architecture is pretty, but it was never your thing. Italy was the same. The scenery and architecture were lovely, but until you saw that play in Verona, you weren’t in love with it, either. Once you hear that beautiful music, you will love Vienna, and truly find what you were looking for on this trip.

  She shuffled to set aside the map and pull out her itinerary. Lukas Huber. That was his name. She looked up and down the street.

  Really, were you thinking that old lady was going to point you in the direction of him?

  Well, yes. She actually had hoped it would be that easy to find what she was looking for.

  Right now, though, she was utterly bewildered.

  She should have known. So far, nothing in this trip had come easy. Everything she started out looking for wound up changing to something else entirely. Something completely unexpected, that she never realized she’d wanted.

  Something even better.

  So don’t worry about it! Let the road take you where it may.

  Right now, the road seemed to be taking her toward what looked like the public toilets.

  I suppose I should be looking for a hotel somewhere around here. I should have asked that lady if she knew of any place to stay.

  Following the map, she passed the Vienna Institute of Technology, its many stately buildings towering above her, and walked along the sidewalk, almost careening head-first into a few people walking the opposite direction. It wasn’t like in New York, though. Most people simply smiled and said, “Tschuldigung,” which, from the way they said it, with a smile and without any malice whatsoever, she gathered to mean Pardon me. It was refreshing; most people in New York would’ve at the very least yelled at her to watch where she was going. In some sections of the city, she’d have been lucky to escape with her life.

  She walked a little farther, until she noticed an older building with billboards on the wall, advertising what looked like an upcoming show. Chicago.

  She laughed to herself. I didn’t come all the way from the United States to see Chicago, but that might be interesting . . .

  Diana walked to the front of the building and paused, then looked back at the map. Her eyes widened when she saw the sign above the door.

  Theater an der Wien.

  She gasped. This was it. The place where Beethoven had debuted some of his most famous compositions. In her head, she played his Piano Concerto No. 4, which had been her grandmother’s favorite. Her legs wobbled as she walked closer, to a sign engraved in the wall, underneath bunting with the Austrian flag’s bright white and red.

  She noticed the word Beethoven, but couldn’t read the rest. It was in German.

  She squinted for a moment, then stopped a fashionable young woman with a blonde ponytail who was passing by with her pint-sized poodle strutting ahead of her on a leash. “Um, excuse me,” she asked, pointing at the sign. “Could you tell me what that says?”

  The woman smiled and nodded, then read: “Ludwig van Beethoven lived in the Theater an der Wien in 1803 and 1804. Parts of his opera, the Third Symp
hony, and the Kreutzer Sonata were written here. Fidelio and other works received their first performance in this house.”

  “Oooh,” Diana breathed. “I can’t believe I’m actually standing here!”

  The woman laughed before walking away, calling, “Music lover, eh? Enjoy!”

  Diana stepped forward and couldn’t help herself. She touched the rough exterior of the building reverently, slowly stroking her finger over the stone. Beethoven lived here.

  Then she walked around, marveling at the building with bright yellow walls and green doors. She looked up at the Papagenotor, the Papageno Gate, over the former main entry. It was adorned with sandstone sculptures, including that of Papageno, cloaked in feathers, and the child sprites from Mozart’s famous opera, The Magic Flute. That was another one of her grandparents’ favorites. Beyond that was a golden coat of arms. In her head, she couldn’t help singing “Papageno, Papagena,” just as the characters did in the opera, Pa pa pa pa . . .

  Then she looked across the street at the sign on the stately brick building across the way. The Hotel Beethoven.

  She smiled. Well, I know where I’m staying.

  It was perfect serendipity, she found herself laughing. Is this what the old lady had meant? If so, she had definitely pointed Diana in the right direction. Deciding to push her luck even further, Diana went around to the new main entrance, off the main street, and found her way to the Theater an der Wien box office.

  “Guten Tag,” the mustached man behind the window said.

  “Hello,” she replied. “I’m wondering if you have any tickets for a performance tonight, or maybe tomorrow?”

  “A performance?” His eyes danced with amusement. “Ja. What are you looking for? We have plenty of seats for Chicago.”

  “Oh, no. Not a musical. Classical music. Any kind. I’m a big fan. Do you have any standing room, maybe?”

  He chuckled. “Well, you have come to the right city, if you like classical music. But I’m sorry to tell you that most nights are reserved for Chicago. We only have one classical performance a week, and you just missed our last one. Our next isn’t for six days.”

  “Oh, no, really?” her spirits plummeted.

  “However,” he said, “There is a special summer evening concert being performed at Musikverein tonight.”

  “At the Musikverein?” she asked in shock.

  He nodded, amused by her expression.

  “I’m sorry. I was just told it’d be nearly impossible to get a ticket for a performance there.”

  “Oh, it is. But there are cancellations all the time, so anything’s possible!”

  “Who is performing?”

  He looked down at a brochure, then passed it over to her. “Lukas Huber and the Vienna Philharmonic will be playing Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. Four, among other pieces. I believe he’s to debut his newest symphony there, The Jupiter Symphony. It’s supposed to be splendid.”

  Diana just stared at him for a moment, speechless. She had to have been dreaming. Lukas Huber? Musikverein? Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. Four? Could there be anything more serendipitous?

  When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “I can call over to the other hall and see if I can find you a ticket, if you’d like?”

  She bobbed her head up and down eagerly. “Oh! Yes! That would be amazing!”

  “Just one?”

  She nodded. “Yep. It’s just me.”

  “That makes it easier. Standing room, of course. One moment.” He disappeared inside the ticket booth for a while, and meanwhile, Diana drummed her fingers on the ledge. As she did, she launched into a fantasy, her, sitting in the front row of the small music hall, surrounded by the spectacularly gilded halls and warm light, listening to the beautiful music as tears streamed down her face.

  She was so wrapped up in the fantasy that she barely noticed the man’s return until he cleared his throat.

  “I apologize. That particular concert is all sold out. Even standing room.”

  She sighed, defeated. That wasn’t how serendipity was supposed to work! How unfair was it to present the perfect option to her, something she’d have travelled the world for, only to snatch it away when she was this close? “Are you sure? Is there another performance, maybe tomo—”

  He was already shaking his head. “I’m sorry. It’s a one-night engagement.” He sniffled. “I’m sorry. Apparently this concert has been sold out for a long time. The man on the phone told me that you have a better chance of getting an invitation to dinner with the Queen of England.”

  “It’s completely sold out? There’s not even a single seat?”

  He nodded. “Seat? Oh, no. An actual seat in that particular venue is even rarer than an invitation to dinner with the Queen. Many of those seats are legacy tickets, passed down from generation to generation. Or they’re available as a subscription, to the entire season. And single seats are often taken by the performers themselves, for guests. So my only option, really, was to get you a standing room ticket, in the back, which are usually reserved for students from the university and tourists. But, unfortunately, they are all gone.”

  “Oh. Well. Thank you.” For a moment, she thought about asking of other concerts, but she felt so sour about missing that one, the perfect opportunity, that everything else just seemed to pale in comparison.

  “There are other concerts, especially outdoor ones, throughout the city. You should check with the university,” he said to her encouragingly, noticing her disappointment. “But if you have your heart set on that one, give me your name and phone number. If a ticket comes up, I will call you.”

  “Would you?” She quickly took the paper he’d offered to her and scribbled her information. “I’m not sure where I’m staying. Probably that hotel across the street. But this is my cell. Call me whenever. I’ll be there!”

  He laughed. “Well, who knows. Stranger things have happened. It’s just one ticket. And university students are notoriously fickle, so one may come available. It’s possible. I’ll let you know.”

  She crossed both fingers and smiled. Please. Please. Please let there be a ticket tonight for me!

  CHAPTER THREE

  Could something please go right for me? Diana begged the universe as she crossed the street. After the perfect-concert-ticket debacle, I don’t know how much more I can take.

  She was so upset by the blow that she couldn’t help feeling a little negative about Vienna. Like all of her hopes and dreams for the place had been crushed. She approached the front desk of the small but opulent hotel with no reservations in the computer, and yet plenty of them in her head. If they tell me this place is all booked up, I might as well take the train somewhere else.

  “Hello,” she said, a little reluctantly.

  The woman at the desk smiled at her. “Guten tag. Checking in?”

  She nodded. “I hope to. I don’t have a reservation, though.”

  The clerk tapped something into her computer. “No problem. We have a room available. How long will you need it for?”

  She sighed with relief. “Thank you! Three days, to start?”

  “Perfect.” She continued to tap on her computer, as Diana handed over her credit card.

  The clerk ran it and passed her a key. “We’re happy to have you staying with us, Ms. St. James. I have you in a suite at the top floor of the hotel. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable but if there’s anything you need, please let us know.” She pointed to the bank of elevators, behind Diana. “Right that way. Do you need help with your luggage?”

  Diana smiled and shook her head, then lifted up the key. “Thank you. No. I’m great.”

  As she headed into the elevator, she felt like her luck was starting to change. When she opened the door to her room at the Hotel Beethoven suite, she knew it. The room was vast, clean, and had the perfect view of Beethoven’s theater. She spent a half hour, on the balcony, taking pictures of it, imagining what it had been like in Beethoven’s time, when he lived there. As she was
snapping photographs, her phone buzzed with a text from Lily: That’s nice. Are you okay?

  She sighed. What was her family thinking? Didn’t they trust her at all to be fine, alone in a foreign country? Hadn’t her time with them in Italy taught them anything?

  Okay, yes. She had almost gotten arrested for murder. But then she and Bea had scoured the city of Verona and found the real killer. No problems. She’d held her own, and everything was fine.

  But yes, she had to admit, she had a knack for getting herself in trouble.

  Getting herself out of it, too. Not that she could tell them that.

  Besides, as irritating as it could be, she had to remind herself that it was nice to have some people who cared about her, even while she was half a world away.

  She typed in: Yes! Going out to sightsee now! Turning off my phone! So don’t worry about me!

  She could just imagine Lily, the more cautious of her daughters, gritting her teeth at that. “Lily” and “Worry” were synonymous. Lily lived and died by her phone, and by careful planning, just like Diana once had. Diana had created a monster in her oldest daughter, one who usually came up with worst-case-scenarios for every possible situation. Thus, the ax-murderer thing.

  Diana didn’t turn off her phone, though—she’d wanted to use it to take photos—but it had the desired effect. Lily didn’t text her back. So she managed to freshen up, change out of her travel clothing and into a fresh pair of shorts and blouse, and equip herself for a fun, sightseeing extravaganza. She hoped that keeping busy would take her mind off the event at Musikverein that she was going to miss.

  As she went downstairs to the lobby, studying the map, she decided to set out and follow the path of another one of her favorite composers—Johann Strauss, Jr.

  She stopped at the concierge, where a small, stout bald man was smiling solicitously at her, eager to help. “Strauss?”

  He laughed with a giddy kind of glee. “This town is all about Johann Strauss! What would you like to see?”

  She shrugged. “I guess . . . what would you recommend? Let’s start with the most famous.”