I gasped. “Why didn’t we hear about this in London?”
Landau’s mouth flattened into a thin line, giving me my answer.
“Ah, I see the government’s propaganda is still at work.” I sighed. “Well, were the perpetrators at least caught?”
He shook his head. “Two brothers were suspected, but there wasn’t enough proof. And in the general chaos that’s gripped the country, no one came forward with more information. Most everyone is consumed with just the day-to-day necessities of surviving and beginning to rebuild. The economy is sluggish, the country’s coffers are empty, and half the villages and cities in the east are in ruins, not to mention those villages to the south that were burned when the Germans invaded five years ago. I’m afraid law and order are not the highest priority.”
“If that’s true, I’m surprised any of the members of La Dame Blanche want their service to be known,” I remarked in concern. “Doesn’t it put them at risk?”
“Don’t mistake me. These incidents of revenge are few and far between. For the vast majority of Belgians, their service to the Allies is a badge of honor. These threats are an aberration.”
“Then it’s no great secret who were agents. But would they have revealed their code names?” I asked, curious how many people were aware that Madame Moreau was Emilie.
He shook his head. “Though the existence of La Dame Blanche is now publicly known, they all swore by their oath not to reveal information concerning the service without formal permission. And that has not been granted.”
“Yes, but would they take such an oath seriously? Especially now that the war is over?” Sidney asked, speaking up for the first time since we’d sat. His face betrayed no scorn, merely genuine curiosity.
“Oh, yes,” Landau said, his voice growing fervent. “They organized their network as a militarized observation corps of the Allies, and they upheld that designation to the letter, fully prepared to court-martial any offenders. The entire operation was quite brilliantly constructed, each unit separated from the others as much as possible. Separate letter boxes. Separate couriers. So if one was compromised, the others would not be at risk of being apprehended, too. That’s why it was such a success.” It was evident he’d argued this point many times.
“So only the immediate members of Madame Moreau’s platoon even knew she was an agent, and possibly the person who manned the letter box, where she delivered reports in her role as a courier,” I explained to Sidney.
He leaned forward to stub his cigarette out in the crystal ashtray on the corner of Landau’s desk. “Then that narrows our pool of suspects considerably, doesn’t it? To the people in her platoon and those in the Secret Service who knew of her existence.”
“In theory,” Landau said. “But there are other ways the information could have spread. Did someone from that narrow pool break their oath and relay sensitive information to someone else? Did Madame Moreau confide in someone herself? Did someone witness something and fit the pieces together?”
“And we also have the connection to Madame Zozza to consider,” I reminded them. “How did she come by her information? Did someone put her up to performing such a trick, and then kill her to silence her? Not everyone would have the means to go to such lengths.”
“For that matter, why would they draw you out like that?” Xavier ruminated, still nursing his cigarette. “What of these ‘unearthed secrets’ the medium mentioned? Do you know what she was referring to?”
I hesitated only a moment, still finding it difficult to relay the intelligence I’d sworn to keep even in such company. But his eyes sharpened with interest, recognizing I was withholding something.
I glanced at Landau, who nodded his permission, which unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth. “I can think of two possibilities. Unless she was speaking metaphorically rather than literally. The first was a map case I stole from a German aviator in Chimay.” I didn’t explain how that was done. How I’d seized the chance encounter with one of their crack pilots—a gregarious fellow with a professed fondness for redheads. It had only cost me an evening of pretending to drink kümmel while he swilled enough to swim in, fending off his kisses long enough for him to pass out. “It contained a handful of maps marked with all the aviation fields behind a large section of the German front.”
“I doubt I need to explain how the information those maps supplied was incalculable. Particularly considering the fact that marking them in such a manner was entirely against German Army regulations,” Landau interjected. “God bless that aviator’s folly.”
I nodded, wondering again what had happened to that pilot when he’d confessed to his superior officer about his lost case. But such was the manner of war. “The maps were too large to transport in one piece, so we cut them into strips, numbered them so they could be quickly reassembled, and stitched them into the hem of my skirt for me to transport over the border. The rest of the papers we burned, but we buried the leather map case in the woods near the frontier between France and Belgium.”
Landau was already aware of these specifics, and Xavier had faced far more dangerous missions to be fazed by such a common tale. Sidney, however, was not. Though he hid it well, I could tell from his tightened jawline that he was not pleased. What I couldn’t tell was whether this was in reaction to hearing about the sometimes sordid assignments I’d undertaken and their inherent dangers, or because I hadn’t shared any of these “unearthed secrets” with him earlier.
Quite honestly, there had been so many aspects to my life with the Secret Service, so many facets big and small, that it would be impossible to share them all. So I had been operating sort of under a code of necessity, and these details hadn’t seemed to fall under that purview.
“You say you emptied the case, but could you have missed something?” Xavier asked as he stepped forward to stub out his cigarette. Rather than return to his slouch against the wall, he instead perched on the corner of Landau’s desk, far too close to me for my comfort.
“It’s possible,” I admitted. “The entire affair was somewhat rushed. It was done in the midst of Emilie attending to a birth. I’d actually met the German aviator as he was likely leaving the mother’s cottage, and he pressed me to join him for dinner. Given the fact that I suspected he was the young woman’s lover, possibly even the father of her baby, the proposition was distasteful.” I glanced at Sidney to gauge his reaction. “But in such situations, it was far more dangerous to decline and risk angering him. So I agreed, hoping he might let something useful slip.”
“As he did,” Landau confirmed.
I nodded. “So when the pilot passed out, I hurried back to the cottage where Emilie was still assisting the woman. Emilie had learned from one of the woman’s neighbors that there were German patrols in the area conducting random searches and making further requisitions of materials, so we realized we had to get rid of any incriminating evidence as swiftly as possible. And in fact, I very nearly stumbled into one of those patrols on my way back from burying the case in the woods behind the cottage. So it’s possible we missed something in our haste. But at the time, the maps were of chief importance. As well as discarding the proof that we’d had such materials in our possession.”
He nodded. “And the other possibility?”
I frowned, staring at the wall behind Landau’s desk as I thought back on it. “It was a somewhat odd occurrence, and it may mean nothing. But there was one instance when Emilie asked me to stand watch as she disappeared into the woods a short distance. When she returned, I noticed she was scrubbing dirt from her hands. She explained she’d sensed we weren’t alone in the forest and had buried a report she would retrieve later. I didn’t question her, having already learned to trust her instincts. And sure enough, not half a mile further along the lane, we encountered a patrol.”
“Did Emilie ever retrieve the report?” Sidney surprised me by being the one to ask.
“I don’t know. She was acting as a guide, conducting me to another ren
dezvous. I didn’t return with her.”
“And you never actually saw this supposed report?” Xavier pressed.
I shook my head. “But at the time, I had no reason to doubt her assertion. I’m still not sure I do. It was just something I thought of when Madame Zozza used the word ‘unearth.’”
“This isn’t the first I’ve heard of an operative discarding compromising information on a hunch,” Landau declared somewhat distractedly, his eyes seeming to peer into the distance. “Keen instincts are a powerful asset.” He blinked several times, refocusing his gaze in time to catch me watching him with interest. “Of the two, I find the aviator map case a more promising lead. Do you think you could find it again?”
“Maybe. If I can find my way back to that cottage where the woman was giving birth, I should be able to locate it.” But I didn’t think that was what he’d really wanted to hear.
He nodded decisively and opened a drawer of his desk to extract a piece of paper. “Then I think your next step should be to speak with the chiefs of La Dame Blanche in Liège. They will be able to tell you more about Emilie and these threats than I can. I’ll write you a letter of introduction, and that should smooth over any difficulties.”
“I’m headed in that direction myself. I can escort them to Liège.” Xavier grinned at us. “That is, so long as you don’t mind another passenger in your Pierce-Arrow.” From the gleam in his eyes, I knew he had seen me stiffen in alarm.
Had it been possible, I would have clubbed him. But as it was, there was nothing for me to do but smile in return. “That would be quite helpful.” I turned to my husband, forcing a brighter smile at the sight of him studying us. “Sidney?”
“If you can direct us where we need to go, then it’s fine by me.”
“I’ll just have to collect my luggage . . .” Xavier began as they rose to their feet, conferring with one another as they moved toward the door.
I remained seated, waiting on Landau to finish his letter of introduction.
Once complete, he folded it into thirds and passed it to me. “This and Xavier should convince them to talk, but if for some reason they should balk, have them telephone me directly.”
“Thank you.” I tucked the missive into my handbag, lowering my voice as I next spoke. “Is that all you wished to tell me?” I lifted my gaze to his pointedly.
His lips curled into a reluctant smile. “Should have known better than to think your instincts weren’t as finely tuned as ever.” His gaze flicked toward the doorway where Sidney and Xavier still stood talking. “All I can say is that some agents were forced to keep more secrets than others. Secrets that could come back to haunt them.”
My chest tightened upon hearing him echo my own thoughts, as I was feeling rather hounded by my own secrets at the moment. But outwardly I scowled. “That’s a rather oblique statement.”
He held up his hand. “I know, and I wish I could say more. But I can’t.” He lowered his voice further. “Other than to tell you that C instructed me to offer you whatever assistance you needed. Off the record, of course.”
“Of course,” I replied, unable to hide my sarcasm. I couldn’t recall the number of times I’d been told just such a thing. Though in this case, it was interesting to note that C’s orders were in direct contrast to Major Davis’s. Kathleen must have gotten word to him after all.
“And I will, any way I can.”
“Can” being the operative word.
Xavier called out from the doorway. “All set?”
Landau’s gaze did not release mine for a moment longer, but then he blinked, settling back in his chair as if our exchange had never happened.
“Yes,” I replied before telling my former superior, “I’ll be in touch.”
He nodded minutely, and I moved to join the other men.
CHAPTER 15
Apparently Sidney had arranged for Captain Xavier to meet us at our hotel where our luggage and the Pierce-Arrow were currently stowed, for he peeled away from us with a jaunty wave as we exited the building. A light rain had fallen while we were inside, and the pavements were still damp.
“Interesting fellow,” he remarked as we strolled down the street arm in arm. He projected an apathetic mien, with his hands tucked in his pockets and his hat pulled low over his eyes, but I could sense the hum of attentiveness under the surface. “I gather he had a rather remarkable assignment during the war.”
I decided there was no reason not to reveal this secret. Not when he’d undoubtedly already deduced it for himself.
“He was planted in the German Army a few years before the start of the war. There were several of them fitted to that role, in fact. So he posed as a German officer for much of the war, stationed mostly on staff in Brussels. That is, until he was almost caught.”
If Sidney was at all surprised by this, he didn’t show it. “And I take it you had some interaction with him.”
“When necessary.”
His eyes dipped to mine and I cursed my choice of words. As if I found the prospect of working with Xavier distasteful.
“It was safer for someone like me to be seen fraternizing with him than the women who had to remain here,” I hastened to add, scrutinizing the passersby as we talked. “In the eyes of their neighbors, they would be tarred as whores and collaborators. The Allies even compiled lists of women suspected of intimate relations with the enemy, many of whom were included entirely because of hearsay.”
“Searching for your German admirer?”
I glanced up in startlement, and then realized he meant the man I had seen on the boat. “Yes, or the fellow from our séance.” I noticed his eyes were also scanning our surroundings. “Why? Have you seen him?”
“No, but shall I hail a taxicab anyway?”
“Yes, let’s.”
I wasn’t surprised this was done with minimal effort on his part, even given the general shortage of such vehicles. Once ensconced inside, I peered out the window, watching to see if anyone scrambled for their own conveyance. Though we had almost certainly lost them in Ostend, Brussels would have been the logical place for them to pick up their search. And the British Embassy, a few blocks from rue Stevin, would have been at the top of their list of places to try first.
“Have you paused to consider that you might be playing right into this person’s hands?”
I turned to find Sidney staring broodingly forward through the taxicab’s windscreen. That stubborn lock of his dark hair had fallen over his brow again, and he had not pushed it back, such was the evidence of his distraction.
His gaze shifted to meet mine. “Have you considered that you might be leading them straight to Emilie?”
I smoothed out my rumpled charcoal gray skirt, trying to calm the anxieties his words had stirred inside me. “Yes, actually. After all, it’s clear to me—if nothing else is—that Emilie has gone to ground, so to speak. And the likeliest solution to the riddle of Madame Zozza’s involvement and suspicious death, is that someone desperately wants to find her. I suppose that’s where I come in.” I realized I was worrying a loose string from the saddlebag pocket of my skirt and forced my fingers to still. “Whether the culprit is a fellow Secret Service agent who already knew of my connection, or I was recognized from our photograph in the newspapers, I am relatively easy to find. So they hoped to set me on the trail to either find Emilie or unearth this secret of hers for them.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
“Because what other option do I have?” I retorted, as much frustrated with myself as I was with him. “If they’re so determined to find her that they’re willing to commit murder to cover their tracks, then if I don’t lead them to her, they’ll find her another way.” My hands clenched into fists. “I’m not about to let that happen. Not until I know what this is about.”
I turned to gaze out the window as we passed the imposing edifice of the Palais de Justice, which had been used as barracks for the German Army during the war. Its courtyard and all the grounds of
Parc du Bruxelles, stretching to the Palais du Roi at the opposite end, had housed one large army camp. A place any self-respecting Belgian woman traveled miles around to avoid, except for the older women who drove the fruit and vegetable carts in from the countryside each morning to sell their goods. I had skirted the grounds of the camp only once, a considered risk I’d felt forced to take given the haste of my objective. Fortunately, I’d emerged unscathed, but I’d met plenty of women who had not.
“Intelligence work is all a matter of calculations,” I ruminated softly, trusting the driver could not hear us over the rumble of the engine. If he could understand English at all. “Taking the objectives, dividing the risks versus rewards, estimating the enemy’s plans, and solving to find your course of action. Sometimes the equation balances better than others. Sometimes the odds are not in your favor, but the importance of the objective outweighs all else.” I frowned. “This is a calculated risk I have to take. For Emilie.”
Sidney’s warm hand settled over mine where it rested on the seat. “Then we’ll just have to make certain no one follows us.”
I nodded, suddenly finding it hard to speak.
His fingers wove between mine, and I leaned my head to the side, resting it on his shoulder.
“She must be quite remarkable to inspire such devotion.” He spoke casually, but I heard the genuine curiosity behind his words.
“She saved me several times, from death or, at the least, from some very unpleasant experiences. But beyond that, she was a comrade.” I glanced up at him. “Would you not go to great lengths to protect your fellow officers, to shield the men who were under your command?”
This question was a rhetorical one, for he’d already proven what lengths he would go to to catch a traitor among their ranks.
His mouth curled wryly. “Point taken.” He dropped his gaze, watching his thumb rub along mine. “I suppose that’s also why you didn’t tell me about the map case and the buried report. After all, I never explained every detail of how I went about searching for proof of treason, just those that were necessary.”
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