by Tricia Goyer
“That’s a good question.” Emma pushed her soup away from her. She let her eyes flutter closed. “Doesn’t Berndt realize there’s enough conflict in our countries? We don’t need it in our hut too. Vera used to be my best friend, but I don’t know anymore.” She opened her eyes and looked at him again, searching his eyes for the truth. “The more time she spends with Berndt, the more we’re being pulled apart. I just wish things would return to how they used to be before he arrived.”
September 1, 1943
Sleep evaded Emma. She tried to picture scenes of happy days, of times in Tremont—or times with Will—but images turned in her mind, pulling her thoughts to darkness. In her mind’s eye she saw children laughing and playing. She remembered Victoria’s tears over losing her parents. Even though Will said his family in Germany was in God’s hands, she couldn’t shake the fact that she had the power to do something to help them.
She considered her mother’s words growing up. They spun through Emma’s mind. “Doing the right thing doesn’t always make it the easy thing,” Mum had said.
She thought of Otto and Helda. How many times had she looked at their family photos from Germany? She thought of Will. Thought of his cousins. She couldn’t save all the children who might perish, but maybe she could save his family.
Realizing it was impossible to sleep, she dressed and hurried outside to where Danny was parked. It was midday, and the fact that the next train wouldn’t be arriving at the station for a few hours gave her time. She’d made her decision, and she knew she had to do it before she changed her mind.
“Can you give me a ride to Henley?” she asked, speaking to him through his driver’s window.
“Sure—I don’t have anything else to do.” He studied her face. “It looks like an emergency.”
“It’s important.” She forced a smile and then walked around to the passenger seat. “That’s all I can say.”
Fifteen minutes later, Emma knocked at Will’s door. She breathed a sigh of relief when he opened it.
“Can I come inside?”
Will welcomed her in. Surprise filled his face. Papers were spread on his table. They looked to be topographical maps of some sort. With a sweep of the hand he pushed them to the side. Emma sat in the chair, and Will sat across from her. “What’s wrong, Emma? Is everything all right?” He seemed distracted, and his eyes were filled with worry. Worry about why she’d come in the middle of the day? That was most likely it.
Emma took a deep breath. “It goes against everything I’ve been ordered to do, but I’d never be able to live with myself if I learned that your family perished and I could have saved them. We’re going to bomb Kassel, Will. I know there have been some smaller bombings there already, but this is different. You need to tell your family. You need to get them out.”
“Emma, why are you telling me this?” Shock filled his gaze. “I know what this can mean…for your work.”
Emma’s mind cleared, and she saw the mix of worry and love in Will’s gaze. For the first time since she’d entered his house she really looked at him. She’d never seen him dressed in such a way. He wore black slacks and a black, long-sleeved shirt. Dirty work boots sat by the front door.
Worried thoughts filled her mind, and she remembered what Vera had told her. “Berndt saw Will sneaking around the earthworks.” She never imagined Berndt was right, but seeing the way Will was dressed and how he was acting made her question herself.
She straightened in her chair and tried to get a closer look at the maps. “Did you just get back from someplace?”
Will cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m just going out.” He picked up the closest map and began to roll it up. “There are some hours of daylight left, and I thought I’d go walk around the base. I’m trying to find the best spot—the best view—to paint.” He tried to sound convincing, but Emma didn’t like how he was avoiding looking at her directly in the eyes.
Emma remembered Danny was waiting outside, and suddenly she felt like fleeing. She didn’t like this Will, the mysterious one. The one who acted as if he had something to hide.
“I know I shouldn’t have come.” She stood. “But can you do it? Can you let your family know? We’re going to be looking at more photos tonight, but I don’t know their plans—when they will strike.”
“Yes, Emma.” He rose and ran his hand through his hair. It was obvious he was conflicted. “I’ll see what I can do.” He blew out a long, slow breath. A weariness settled over his face. “Yes,” he said, as if speaking to himself. “I’ll send a message to let them know.”
THIRTY-FOUR
September 2, 1943
Will parked his auto halfway between Medmenham and Danesfield House and decided to walk the rest of the way. Instead of his usual button-up shirt and slacks, he wore the same black shirt and pants he’d been wearing when Emma had showed up at his cottage. He hated that he was lying to her, but he had to discover the truth. He had to protect her and everyone else at Danesfield House. He’d questioned for a while if Berndt had been exploring the earthworks, and now he needed to figure out just what he was up to.
He walked up the hill, using only the moon to guide his way. In his sack he carried a torch, but he decided to use it only in the tunnels.
A few days ago he’d dared to explore during the day, but that was too risky. There were too many people strolling around the gardens of Danesfield. Yet Will knew he was on the right track. He’d found a few empty satchels, one of which contained fuses. He’d already sent word to Christopher of his findings, but he’d gotten no response. Will thought again of Albert’s rants. “Why do we waste time counting when we should be going for the head?” Danesfield House was the head that guided all the information about Allied bombings, and now that he realized Albert and Berndt where one and the same, he questioned how much time he had left before Berndt went for a head shot.
Will walked as softly as he could, making sure of his steps. The only thing Will had on his side was his belief in Berndt’s inflated pride. When Will didn’t confront Berndt in the gardens when he first recognized him, Berndt had asked Vera to set up a meeting at the beach. Berndt wanted to talk to him. He’d wanted his plan to be found out. What use would it be to commit the greatest undercover assignment in Abwehr history if there was no one to watch? Berndt’s pride demanded an audience.
Will thought back to the first moment he’d met Albert. He’d been sent to Germany to teach. All his paperwork said he’d gone to teach art, but MI5 had sent him on another assignment. He’d been sent to train Abwehr agents to act like British citizens. He’d taught language and customs. He also gave them information about where to open bank accounts and set up postal boxes and helped them gain employment and housing. Then, once in Britain, they were watched. Better the known enemy than the unknown.
Will had performed his job well, and everything had gone as planned until he’d been sent to Danesfield House and met Emma. Then his work became even more complicated—he had to deceive even as he opened his heart to the possibility of love. The only problem was, he had yet to gain control of Berndt. And he was fairly certain that Berndt had planted explosives around Danesfield House.
Only one thing held Will back from confronting Berndt now. Will had to know if Claudius was involved, as Christopher believed. If Claudius was part of the plot to blow up Danesfield House, and Will knew him as he thought he did, Claudius would want to be here for the show as well.
Finally, Will reached the edge of the earthworks and followed his way down them toward the river. He’d searched two tunnels already, and now there was only one left. The one closest to the river’s edge.
Will entered the narrow tunnel, and when he got twenty yards in he flipped on the torch. He had to hunch over to walk, and the tunnel snaked up the hill. He assumed he was moving in the direction of Danesfield House but wasn’t certain. So far nothing looked amiss, but he did see footprints. How recent were they? It was hard to tell.
Will continued forward, l
istening for any sound. Then, up ahead light filtered in. He turned off his torch and slowed his steps. Yes, it was moonlight.
He continued on until he reached an iron-grated gate. Will dared to reach out and touch it, and then he paused. He looked around the edges of the gate, and then he saw it. Wires leading along the side and around the wall. He tried to get a better look to see where the wires ended, but all he could see was the large hedgerow bushes in front of the door.
Explosives. The gate was wired with explosives. This confirmed what Will had been thinking, but it also brought this night’s explorations to an end.
September 3, 1943
The roar of bombers filled the air as Emma strolled around the garden with Georgette and Edward, taking in the late summer morning during a break. Emma’s mind filled with prayers. They were jumbled as she prayed for the flight crews and also for the ordinary people caught on both sides of the war. For the Allies to win, someone had to lose, and tonight it would be the people of Kassel. She only hoped Will had gotten news to his family in time.
The roar sounded a second time. Emma looked over her shoulder at the sky. “It’s the bombers again.”
“A double strike,” Georgette whispered.
Emma’s fingers brushed her neck. “I feel so bad for the people of Kassel.”
“Kassel?” Edward shook his head. “No, they’re going to Darmstadt today.”
Emma’s shoulders relaxed.
“Why did you think they were going to Kassel?” he asked.
“We’ve been writing reports and going over the covers. I just assumed…” There was a quiver in her voice.
“Listen, Emma. It’s not our job to guess on the targets.” Edward paused in his tracks and looked at her. “We needn’t be concerned with anything but our jobs. Our job is to analyze the pictures when they come through. Do you know how many lives are at stake? Do you understand the cost to our men in the air if word gets out—even if it’s speculation? I urge you not to speak so freely of such things.”
Emma straightened her stance. “Yes, sir. I…I’m so sorry.” Guilt flooded over her, and the realization of what she’d done hit her full force. She’d urged Will to send word to his family, but what then? Would they keep it to themselves? No, why would they? Not if their friends and neighbors were in danger. And if word got out, if the Germans were expecting them…what loss of life would there be?
Loose lips sink ships…or down planes. Her knees softened, and it took all she had to hold herself up.
Edward turned and strode away, and Emma grabbed Georgette’s arm for support.
“Are you all right?”
“Oh, Georgie, I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
“Emma, please don’t tell me that you told someone about Kassel. Was it Will?”
Emma didn’t need to answer. Instead, she looked into her friend’s fearful eyes. “Georgie, what ever shall I do?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. Maybe he won’t pass it on.” Georgette placed both hands on Emma’s arms. “Do you trust Will, Emma?”
Emma swallowed hard. “Of course,” she said softly. But at that moment nothing was clear. Will was half German, and through her Will had managed to get close to Danesfield House. Was he really the man he said he was? Or had Emma just proved herself to be a fool?
Emma didn’t know what else to do except go to work that night as usual. She had a hard time concentrating. She wasn’t getting far on the photographs, so she decided to volunteer to retrieve photos from the archives instead.
When she approached Edward, asking if he needed her help, he nodded but didn’t look into her eyes. “Can you retrieve the last covers of Darmstadt today? We’re going to need them to compare.”
Emma made her way downstairs, and as she expected, Vera allowed her to search for the box. Emma remembered the basic area where she saw it last, and when she found the row, she discovered the most recent box at the top.
Standing on her tiptoes, Emma reached for a box high on the shelf. She opened it, expecting more covers, but even though the outside of the box read “Darmstadt” with the dates, there were no photos. Instead, there was a set of architectural drawings. She looked at them closely and noticed they were the plans for this building—Danesfield House—and the surrounding estate. Lines were drawn on the map, and they centered on one central location near the hedgerows. But what were they doing here, in the photo archives? There were other pieces of paper with some type of equations. There was something else there too. Emma reached deeper into the box and retrieved a small brown paper booklet.
Deutsches Reich, Reisepass.
“A German passport,” she whispered. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, and she was almost afraid to open the cover. A stamp of the German eagle and Nazi swastika had been pressed into the cover. The year read 1937.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the passport, and the photo inside pierced her heart. Julian Wilhelm Heinsohn, the name read, but it was Will’s face in the image. Will, young and handsome. Instead of looking at the camera, he was staring off to the right, as if looking at someone. He wore no smile, but there was humor in his eyes. She’d seen that look many times. It was a look as if he knew a joke and couldn’t wait to tell the punchline.
The joke’s on me. It’s been on me all along.
Hot anger mixed with pain. Heartache fought to gain control. He had told her he loved her. He’d been there to listen, to hold her, and to wipe her tears.
All the while using me.
She’d been the one to bring him here, into Danesfield House. She’d made an arrangement for him to paint the estate and the gardens. The guards had allowed him to come and go freely. He’d mentioned that himself.
Emma sank to the floor. “What have I done?” she whispered. “What have I done?”
THIRTY-FIVE
Emma finally found the correct box of photos she needed to take to Edward. There had been a second box with the same name, and when she found it the questions flooded in. Who had placed those items in the first box and moved the second? As far as she knew, Will had never been inside Danesfield House. Someone else, she was certain, had to be behind it.
The more Emma thought of it, the more she knew someone had set Will up. Yet how had that person known where to hide the passport and photos? And how had they known that she would have been the one to go to the box? Then again, if Vera would have found the information, she would have brought it to Emma’s attention.
Worry fought with pain in her head. It hurt to see Will’s face on that German passport. It made the possibility of him being sympathetic with the enemy all too real. Pain coursed through her chest over the reality of who he was. Could she really trust him? Could Will be on the side of the enemy, attempting to get information from her?
All she could think to do was to put one foot in front of the other and do her work. When she emerged from the archive room, Vera was waiting at her desk. She looked as if she wanted to talk, but that was the last thing Emma needed. Her mind was too jumbled. Her heart too shattered. Emma smiled and tried to stride by, but Vera caught her arm.
“Can you hold on a minute, Emms? I need to talk to you.”
Emma placed the box of photos on her desk. “I only have a minute.”
Vera squeezed Emma’s arm tighter. “Emma, you know I’d never do anything to hurt national security, right?”
“Of course.”
“And if you were worried about me, you’d…well, you’d do all you could to tell me, right?”
“You know I’d never want to see you hurt.”
“I need you to come back to the darkroom.” Vera’s voice rose. “I know you have your own work…”
From the look in Vera’s eye Emma knew she needed to follow.
Emma followed Vera into the darkroom. Instead of moving to the development area, Vera moved to a pile of photos stacked in a tray.
“There is a lot of recon in the war, and not only the recces take photos. People do too.”
>
“Yes, I know.” Emma didn’t want to use the word spies, but in training they’d learned about them and their valuable work on the ground.
“In the last few weeks I’ve been asked to develop a different type of photo. I can’t tell you anything else—I’d never divulge information of who or why—but I’m worried about you.”
“Me?”
“Emma, you’ve shown up in these photos. More than once.”
Emma gasped. “But why would I be in the photos?”
“It’s not my job to interpret what they mean. I just need to show you this. He…Will…someone is trailing him. I’m not sure what that means, Emma, but you need to be careful.”
Vera handed her a photo. It was of the crowded Regency Café. The room was filled with people, but the focus was on one. Will sipped from a small coffee cup. His eyes were fixed across the table. His soft smile was captured in the image. His attention was fixed on the woman sitting across from him. His gaze was fixed on her.
Emma sucked in her breath. Anger and confusion mixed with denial. “The room is filled with people. It could be someone else they were watching.”
“I could go to jail for saying this, Emma, but this isn’t the only photo. There are more…many. You need to stay away from him. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Emma tried to piece it together. Who was following Will, and why were these photos showing up here in Danesfield, of all places? And what about the items she’d just found? It was almost as if someone was setting him up, trying to shake her trust in Will. Either that, or all that Will had been hiding from her was just now coming to the surface.
The thing was, the passport didn’t lie. The photos didn’t lie. Will had been the one lying to her. The proof was right before her.
“I need to go to him. I need to confront him about this.”
