The Oslo Affair

by CW Browning

  Anna shot her a look as they stopped before the lift and the attendant opened the door and stood aside for them to step into the cage. The porter followed and once they were in, the attendant entered and pulled the grate closed. He said something in Swedish and Evelyn looked at Anna helplessly.

  “He wants to know which floor,” she said with a grin. “Where are we going?”

  “The fourth floor.”

  Anna told the attendant and he nodded, putting the lift in motion. The ride was a quiet one as Evelyn and Anna dropped the topic of Hitler for the moment, choosing instead to watch the floors of the hotel go slowly by. It was a small lift and between the boy with the luggage and the attendant, there was very little room. Evelyn stood still, watching the floors, her mind spinning.

  Someone had really tried to kill Hitler! While it was completely unexpected, she supposed it shouldn’t have been. Even though the press in Germany portrayed him as a beloved Führer, it stood to reason that there would be those who were less than enthusiastic. There always were. But to openly try to kill him? And the amazing thing was it would have worked! If he hadn’t moved his speech up an hour, it would be a very different world today. It would be a world on its way back to peace.

  The lift came to a stop and the attendant opened the gate, nodding to them with a smile. Evelyn stepped out and looked at the porter. He nodded and led the way to the left, saying something over his shoulder.

  “He says to follow him,” Anna said unnecessarily.

  Evelyn looked at her. “I would never have guessed,” she said dryly.

  Anna grinned. “You wanted an interpreter. I’m simply doing my job.”

  “I wanted a companion as well,” Evelyn retorted, tucking her arm through hers. “And you’re doing that fabulously. Thank you.”

  “There’s no need to thank me. I’m enjoying myself! This is a nice change from transcribing legal notes, I assure you.”

  The porter stopped before a door and set two of the bags down so he could unlock it. Once the door was opened, he handed the key to Evelyn and picked up the bags.

  “Oh! How lovely!” Anna exclaimed, following Evelyn into the room and looking around.

  They had stepped into a very modern sitting room with two arm chairs, a love seat, and a table in the center. A set of French doors opened onto a narrow balcony, and an ornate desk stood to the side of the doors. On either side of the sitting room was a door leading to a bedroom.

  The porter set the bags down and turned to leave. Evelyn murmured thank you in Swedish as he passed and he bobbed his head. A moment later, the door was closing softly behind him.

  “The view is outstanding!” Anna exclaimed from across the room, opening the doors to step out onto the balcony. “Come and see!”

  Evelyn smiled and walked across the room to where a cold breeze was blowing in.

  “It’s freezing!”

  “It’s not. It’s lovely! You’re just not used to it.” Anna gazed out over the water. “Well, perhaps it’s a bit brisk,” she admitted a second later as a gust of wind caught them in the face and she reached up to hold her hat on her head.

  Evelyn laughed, shivering. The hotel overlooked the harbor. Directly across the water stood the Royal Palace, imposing and elegant in all its timeless grandeur. The sun glistened off the surface, making the waves look like moving, glittering glass, and Evelyn breathed deeply. It truly was a wonderful view.

  “Stunning,” she said, turning to go back into the sitting room. “But too cold!”

  Anna chuckled, shaking her head. After taking one last look across the water, she turned and went in, closing the doors behind her.

  “I’ll tell you this: if this is how you travel, I’ll be your interpreter any time you like!” she said, taking off her hat and tossing it onto the table. “It’s marvelous! We even have our own rooms!”

  “You can thank Daniel Carew for that,” Evelyn said, unbuttoning her coat and beginning to pull off her gloves. “He’s the one who made the reservation.”

  “Perhaps I should take him up on his offer to come and work for him,” she said with a grin, undoing her coat and shrugging out of it. “He’s asked more than once.”

  Evelyn removed her coat and turned to pick up her bags, heading for the door on the right.

  “I can’t imagine this is the norm for embassy employees,” she said over her shoulder. “Never mind. You can enjoy it while you’re here.”

  Anna followed her to the door, leaning against it as she watched Evelyn set her suitcase down and turn to place her smaller travel case on the dressing table.

  “What did you mean when you said that the Gestapo were nothing if not efficient?” she asked suddenly.

  Evelyn looked at her in surprise. “What?”

  “The way you said it, it sounded as if you had personal experience with them. Have you?”

  “No, thank heavens. I’ve heard stories, that’s all.” Evelyn dropped her gloves next to her case and turned to face Anna. “They’re the Nazi police. They must be good at it or they wouldn’t have the reputation they do.”

  Anna made a face and straightened up from the door jam. “There’s a difference between being good at something and being a bully,” she muttered. “My brother says they’re all thugs.”

  “Your brother?” Evelyn grasped at that, thankful to turn the conversation from herself and the Gestapo. “I didn’t know you had a brother!”

  “Yes. He’s with the army up near Trondheim. His name is Erik.” Anna turned to leave the bedroom. “He likes to think he knows everything.”

  “Don’t all brothers?” Evelyn demanded with a laugh before she could stop herself.

  Anna picked up her cases and looked back at her.

  “You sound as if you have one of your own,” she said. “Do you?”

  “Yes. He’s in the RAF.” Evelyn glanced at her watch. “We just have time to get dressed for dinner,” she said, turning back into her room. “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m always hungry!” Anna went across the sitting room to the opposite door. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  She disappeared into her room and the door closed behind her a moment later. Evelyn exhaled and closed her door, turning to lift her suitcase onto the bed. She didn’t like to speak about herself at all with strangers, not wanting to inadvertently give too much information that could be used against her. It was something that had been drilled into her in Scotland. The less anyone knew about you, the better. The comment about brothers had slipped out before she could think, and now Anna knew she had a brother. She supposed it didn’t really make a difference. Anna didn’t know her real name, or even where she was from. It was unlikely that that particular piece of trivia would mean anything to the woman other than to present something they had in common.

  That was something else her training had drilled into her. Always try to establish something in common with contacts, something they could relate to. Not that Anna was a mark for information, but she was still a contact. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to build a relationship there. After all, who knew when she might have need of a friend in Norway?

  Evelyn undid her case and opened it, pushing aside the nagging feeling of distaste at thinking of Anna in terms of how she could use her. The woman had come with her, miles from her home and into a different country, to act as an interpreter for her without question. If nothing else, she was certainly one of the most obliging females Evelyn had come across. She didn’t like lying to her.

  Pulling a blue dinner dress out of the case, her lips curved despite herself. She wasn’t sure how much good the lying was actually doing with Anna, anyway. The woman already knew she wasn’t the journalist she was pretending to be, and had figured out that Maggie Richardson was not her name. Because she worked with Daniel Carew, Anna knew that Evelyn was an agent of some kind. Hopefully, she didn’t have a clear idea of exactly what kind.

  The smile faded as she laid the dress on the bed next to the case. The story had to be ma
intained, but at this point both women knew the truth. The only question was why Anna had agreed to help her. Norway was a neutral country and, while England was their ally, they had made it clear that they wouldn’t break their neutrality in favor of any of the combating nations. Why, then, was Anna so willing to assist? Was it simply because she was familiar with Carew and had acted as a courier for him on occasion? Or was it something more? Evelyn remembered the look on Anna’s face that reminded her so forcibly of her feeling of uselessness just a short year ago, and she pressed her lips together thoughtfully.

  With nothing to do until Vladimir made contact, she could focus on Anna. If she couldn’t figure out her motives by the time she left Sweden then she had no business working for MI6 at all. Her job was to gather information from both friendly and enemy sources.

  And that was exactly what she was going to do.

  London, England

  The traffic was steady, streaming around Piccadilly just as it always had. If anything, the war had increased the congestion in the late afternoon as everyone tried to finish their errands before nightfall and the blackout. The man stepped out of a shop and looked around before turning and heading towards the corner. Looking over his shoulder to the street, he spotted an available taxi and raised his umbrella to summon it, stepping to the curb. While he waited for it to maneuver its way to the side of the road, he glanced at his watch. He had plenty of time before his meeting. There was no rush.

  The taxi stopped beside him and he got into the back. “Whitehall, please.”

  “Sir.” The driver nodded and a moment later they were easing back into the flow of traffic.

  The man looked out of the window, his lips tightening. He hadn’t meant to be away from the office this long. It was supposed to be a quick trip to the tailor after lunch and then back to work. Things were hectic around the building these days, and he didn’t like to be away for any longer than was necessary. This time, however, he’d had no choice. When the boy had pushed past him and shoved a grimy note into his hand, his return to the office had to be delayed. Which was why he was now in a cab, blocks away from the Foreign Ministry.

  His face darkened as he watched the city go by. The message he retrieved at the shop in Piccadilly had been brief and to the point. They wanted the package; the package that he had assured them he would be able to deliver. They were getting impatient, and he really couldn’t blame them. They wanted to know where it was.

  And so did he.

  He’d been to Ainsworth Manor and searched the study thoroughly. There was no sign of the package there. He’d even managed to get into the library and searched that as well, but it was useless. The package was nowhere to be found. It was as if it had simply disappeared.

  Yet, he knew that wasn’t the case. Robert Ainsworth would never have allowed it to be misplaced. He would have realized the value of what he’d come across, and he would have made sure it was secured. The most obvious place was his country seat, but he’d been unable to locate it there. So, when the man returned to London, he had searched the Ainsworth house in Brook Street. That, too, had proved fruitless. And now he was stymied.

  Where on earth had the old man stashed it? The man had thought it unlikely that Ainsworth had carried it with him when he went on that last, fateful trip to Poland, but perhaps he had. And if that was the case, heaven only knew where it was now. The room in Bern had been searched thoroughly by more than one country’s agency, and no one had found anything.

  The man exhaled and peered through the front windshield as the cab slowed to a stop in traffic approaching Whitehall. After taking one look at the stopped traffic, he pulled some coins out of his pocket and passed one over the seat to the driver.

  “Here. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  “Are you sure? It’ll get moving again in a moment.”

  “Yes. The fresh air will do me good. Thank you.”

  The man climbed out of the car and started up the sidewalk. This whole situation was the result of him trying to make himself indispensable. Given the rash of failures lately, his standing was far from secure. He had thought presenting them with the package would be an easy way to cement himself as the perfect agent. Unfortunately, he hadn’t taken into account Robert Ainsworth and his love of intrigue. It really was infuriating.

  The man strode through the afternoon crowds, his lips pressed into a thin line and his umbrella tapping on the pavement imperiously. He had to find the package. The message today had been very clear. He could buy himself a little bit of time, but it would have to be found and passed on to them. The only way he was getting himself out of this without the package was if he managed to land something bigger and more important, and that wasn’t looking very likely at this point. Not with the way things were going in the government at the moment.

  No. It had to be the package. And it had to be sooner rather than later. If Ainsworth hadn’t left it in either of his own residences, the only other possibility was that he’d entrusted it to someone else’s care. While that had seemed impossible a few days ago, now the man considered the prospect with new eyes as he crossed a driveway. Who would the old man have left it with? Who on earth would he have trusted enough to leave a package that could have far reaching effects for the security of the British Commonwealth?

  The man shook his head and a wave of something like irritation went through him. Who would have thought that, in death, Robert Ainsworth would have the last say? It was really quite ridiculous. The man had played at being a secret agent while maintaining a very successful diplomatic career. He was hardly what one would term a master of espionage.

  The man’s lips tightened. And yet, here he was, empty-handed because Ainsworth had taken the secret with him to the grave.

  Perhaps Robert Ainsworth hadn’t been such an amateur after all.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Stockholm, Sweden

  Evelyn stepped out of the lift with Anna and glanced at the busy desk in the lobby.

  “I just have to speak with the concierge,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the restaurant.”

  Anna nodded cheerfully and went off towards the restaurant while Evelyn turned to cross the lobby. Her elegantly simple blue evening dress and shining blonde hair drew several appreciative glances from men as she went, but she ignored them as her eyes scanned the faces of everyone she passed. Oslo may be over two hundred miles away but she knew how easily she had got here. Others could do so just as easily, and that kept her eyes moving even as a smile curved her lips.

  Walking up to the desk, she stood waiting for the concierge to finish with a customer. When he had, he promptly came over to her with a smile.

  “How can I assist you?”

  “I’d like to send a telegram, please.”

  “Of course.” He turned to the back counter and opened a drawer, pulling out a pad. “We can send it over to the telegraph office. It’s just around the corner. Is this urgent?”

  “I’d like it sent as soon as possible, yes.” Evelyn picked up a pencil and began to fill out the form. “It’s to my editor in London and I’m afraid I forgot to do it earlier.”

  “I understand. I’ll have it sent immediately.”

  Evelyn wrote out an innocuous message in a her neat, precise hand informing the reader that she had arrived at the hotel and was looking forward to a successful stay. She would have the article ready for transmission soon. She kept it short and generic, handing it to the concierge a moment later.

  “Thank you so much.”

  He nodded and raised a hand to summon an employee over. “Of course, miss. I’ll send it right away. Enjoy your dinner.”

  “Thank you.”

  She turned away as he handed the telegram to the employee who joined him, speaking to him rapidly in Swedish. As she crossed the lobby to the restaurant, the telegram was on its way to being carried out the door.

  A few moments later, she was shown through a very busy restaurant to a table where Anna was just being seate
d.

  “That was quick,” Anna said as Evelyn joined her. “Were you able to send it?”

  “Yes. In fact, it’s already on its way to the telegraph office.” Evelyn accepted the menu from the attentive waiter and smiled. “I’m absolutely famished.”

  The waiter said something in Swedish and Anna replied before he turned to leave. Evelyn looked across the table.

  “Something about drinks?” she asked.

  “Very good! You’re learning. I ordered us some wine.”

  “Very little, I’m afraid. Only bits, here and there. Some of the words are very similar to Norwegian, which I was starting to get used to.”

  Anna grinned. “You have a good ear. I suspect if you stayed for a few weeks, you wouldn’t need me at all.”

  Evelyn smiled and lowered her eyes to the menu, scanning it before giving up and setting it aside.

  “And that’s where my cleverness ends,” she said. “I can’t make head or tail of it. Do they have any beef?”

  “Yes. A beef tenderloin in what looks like a delicious wine and shallot sauce,” Anna said after inspecting the menu for a moment.

  “Perfect!”

  Anna continued to look at the menu and, while her attention was occupied, Evelyn cast a slow look around at the neighboring tables while she removed her gloves. Their fellow diners seemed to be a mix of local residents out to enjoy the superior cuisine of the hotel restaurant and other foreign travelers like themselves. There were none that appeared suspicious in anyway and Evelyn laughed silently at herself as she realized she was looking for nefarious-looking Russians and Germans behind every menu.

  “I think I’ll gain a ton of weight while I’m with you,” Anna finally announced, setting the menu down. “Everything looks so wonderful.”

  “Do you go out to dinner very much?” Evelyn asked, setting her gloves with her purse on the chair beside her.

  “Not very, no. Drinks, yes! But it’s expensive to eat out in Oslo, as I’m sure you noticed, so I don’t do it very often. Unless, of course, I can talk a nice, good-looking man into paying for it,” she added with a grin.