She pulled off her muffler. Some kind of central heating kept even a space this large too warm for outdoor clothes. The hotel employees were dressed in what appeared to be heavy wool, Russian-style coats, but they didn’t appear to be overheated. Maybe it was simply her nerves.
Glancing around, she found the reception desk and went to it. A middle-aged man with thinning blond hair stood behind the desk. His badge said “Lionel Dew, Night Manager.”
“Mr. Dew,” she said. “Can you tell me where Alecia Loudon is this evening? She works for the Marvins.”
He regarded her with a stiff, militaristic air. “Do you have an invitation, miss? No one is being allowed on the floor without an official invitation or a room key.”
She shook her head. “No. I had a letter from her, suggesting I see Mr. Eyre about a position as chambermaid. I wrote him more than a week ago.”
“Mr. Eyre does not hire chambermaids,” he said. “You’ll need to leave an application.” He reached under the desk and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here you go. Fill that out and we’ll keep it on file for three months.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “Do you think I’ll be able to see Miss Loudon tomorrow?”
“It will be easier to navigate the hotel tomorrow, I should think so, yes,” he said. “It’s not every night we have a theatrical performance in the hotel.”
She nodded. “I understand. Thank you for your time.” She took the applicant form, considering whether she should go into the Reading Room and fill it out straightaway. Something about the atmosphere seemed so wrong, however, that she was torn between filling it out to ensure it was clean and unbent, and getting out of there as quickly as possible.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she went into the Reading Room and borrowed a pen from an elderly gentleman who was dozing over a newspaper crossword puzzle. She filled it out, using Les’s address, knowing this could make her unreachable very soon. She put Alecia down as a reference.
“Here you go, Mr. Dew,” she said, going back to the front desk.
He took the paper without so much as raising his unibrow of sparse blond hair, and put it under the desk. She thanked him and left, never so happy to leave a building in her life. She’d been in mausoleums with better atmosphere. How could Alecia stand it?
Johnnie helped her into another taxicab. “You didn’t stay long.”
“I couldn’t see my sister or Mr. Eyre,” she said ruefully. “It sounds like this is anything but a normal evening at the Grande Russe.”
“When those Russians moved in everything changed,” he confided. “And they ain’t leaving anytime soon. We just have to get by. It’s a lot of money for the hotel.”
“Did I really see Honor Page?” she asked.
Johnnie nodded solemnly. “Staying with her husband, Mr. Teddy Fortress.”
“I love his movies, even more than Charlie Chaplin’s.”
“Yes, miss. I haven’t seen them myself, only been in England four months, but I hear they are very funny. Maybe you’ll go to the pictures with me sometime, if you come to work here?”
“Maybe,” she said with a smile. When she was in the taxicab driving away, she debated with herself over whether or not she should have said she was married. It was confusing to have more than one identity.
Another hour and a half later, she was back at Les’s flat with groceries. She left them in the entryway and went into the master bedroom to check on Les, but he was fast asleep. So she took the groceries upstairs and made herself a plate of eggs, tomatoes, and sausages, setting the remains on the back of the stove for Les.
After she ate, she found the spare bedroom, noting that he wasn’t well prepared for guests. She found a sheet in the linen closet and made up the small bed in the room. He was still asleep and she decided to let him be. After all, he knew where his own kitchen was if he woke hungry. She was ready for a proper night’s rest herself.
* * *
“I don’t think you should go out.” Sadie looked him up and down critically the next morning, her hands on her hips.
He’d already turned the poor girl into a proper wife. Even an experienced wife couldn’t find fault with his suit, however. Was she a virgin? He thought so, but she wouldn’t stay so for long, with her willingness to take risks with strange men. He felt a moment of concern for her, but at the moment, caring for him kept her out of trouble. When he thought of the sorts of things he was willing to do when he was twenty, his heart sank into his stomach, though. He had the scars to show for the results of his choices.
“I need to. I want to keep my position, remember?”
“I can go with you. Carry your case.”
He cupped her cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding his case. “A good night’s sleep did wonders. I’m not even dizzy right now. The bruising on my chest looks much better, too.”
“You’re a grown man and I can’t stop you, but I’ll be here to help you pick up the pieces when you return.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m going to borrow your dressing gown and wash and iron my clothes. I left your address with my Grand Russe application.”
If he had more energy, the thought of a naked Sadie in his paisley dressing gown would have sent the blood rushing south. Even in his condition, his cock twitched a bit at that idea. “Anything else?” His voice went husky.
“I had your milk and eggs delivery restarted when the man came to the door this morning. I thought I’d make scones.”
“Perfect. I’ll be home for tea. Assuming my car is where I left it the day we went north. Otherwise I’ll be hunting it down.”
He whistled jauntily as he clapped his hat onto his head, trying to prove to them both that he was well, and went out the door. Thankfully, there was a taxicab stopped on the street and he was heading toward Marylebone almost immediately.
Once he entered the street with the flat Glass used, he found a telephone box and called his contact number. He was told his section head would be along within half an hour. After he entered the flat, he made tea on the small stove, but then was too tired to drink it.
Some time later, the sound of the door opening woke him. He opened his eyes just as Glass entered the room and stood, tightening his tie.
Glass clasped his hand warmly. “I thought we’d lost you, Les.”
“Not this time.”
“How are you feeling?” Glass lifted the tea cozy and touched the pot. He grunted and poured overbrewed tea for them both.
“Tired. I must have fallen asleep for ten minutes or so.”
“Your coloring is off. Concussion?”
“I think I’m past all that now. I was mostly unconscious until Monday, but it’s Friday now.”
“You need to eat. Build up your strength.”
“Sadie is still with me, courtesy of me costing her her job, so she says, but I think she’s afraid to leave me alone.”
“A good woman is hard to find,” Glass said, sitting down. He pushed the other chair out with his foot. “Tell me everything. I’ll write it down to spare you making a written report of your own.”
“Thank you, sir.” Les told his story.
Glass chuckled at the end as Les reported how Sadie had gone to the Grand Russe Hotel to hunt for her promised job the day before. “Poor Sadie Loudon. She just runs headfirst into trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
Glass’s expression became serious. “There was a bomb at the Grand Russe yesterday. If Special Branch hadn’t been notified in time, the entire hotel might have exploded. Your Sadie could have died.”
Chapter Six
“Sadie isn’t mine. We’ve been playacting sure, thanks to the Kozyrev situation, but that’s it.” Les spun his teacup. His training kept him from reacting outwardly to the shocking news about the hotel bomb that could have taken Sadie’s life. He didn’t remember drinking the contents of his cup, but it was empty now, with just one tea leaf decorating the inside.
&n
bsp; “Haven’t slept with her?” His section head asked from his position on the other side of the iron table.
“No. No opportunity.” Obviously. His hands were shaking. He was a wreck.
Glass raised his thick eyebrows. He seemed to find the answer amusing. “You need to finish that business. Get engaged to her, if you have to. We need eyes and ears inside the Grand Russe. Between the bomb attempt and all the Russians both as guests and employees, that place is a hotbed of trouble.”
“You want me to keep Sadie close?”
Glass pulled a brown paper bag from his pocket and shook out a few roasted nuts. “Keep her living with you. Why not? Don’t tell her you’re feeling better. Make her feel needed. But also make sure she gets that job. Of course she was turned away yesterday. They were much too busy to see her. She must have walked in just as they were pulling explosives out of the place.”
Les’s stomach, empty but for the black tea, rumbled uncomfortably at the notion that Sadie could have been hurt. “I don’t think she’ll leave me,” he said. “I’m not sure what she’s thinking. She did try to see her sister, but she won’t contact her grandfather. He’s a vicar.”
“She’s put herself in a position that would be anathema to a man of God with a parish looking on,” Glass said, handing him the bag. “Get engaged. That will cheer her up.”
Les poured nuts into his hand. “Yes, sir.”
As Les popped the first one into his mouth, Glass said, “Now, on to the heart of the business. As you can imagine, we have a bomber to find.”
“You didn’t get him?”
“No, we rounded up most of the Russian cell. A strange business. Still trying to sort out the reports.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Glass’s answer was another question. “How are you getting along with the Bolshies?”
Les opened his case and took out the two membership cards for the League of British Workers.
Glass grinned. “Well, well, well. Good work.”
“Not sure this is relevant to the Grand Russe though. That is Russian trade. I’m trying to infiltrate the labor side of things. The ones who want strikes and disruption.”
“Yes, but there are only so many bombers to go around. The higher-ups in any Russian-funded organization are going to have a conduit to the experts.”
“Yes, sir.”
“As you know, we’ve been woefully short-staffed since the war ended. With an issue this serious, we need every man available on the hunt. Continue to work your networks, but you’ll also receive assignments directly related to finding this bomb builder Konstantin.”
“Very well.”
“You’ll be working with Robert McCall of Special Branch. Wouldn’t want you to find the bomber and not be able to arrest him.”
“Very good. What about Sadie? The Kozyrevs think she’s my wife.”
“I noticed the membership card. Since she’s so attached to you, I think an engagement is enough for now. After all, if she can’t get that position at the Grand Russe, her use to you isn’t what it could be.”
“She’s a good actress.”
“I’ll have a thorough investigation done.” Glass shrugged. “Maybe we’ll make an operative of her.”
He didn’t like the idea of silly, sexy Sadie being thrust into danger. Yes, she was resourceful, but she didn’t seem very athletic. He’d danced with her enough to know she was enthusiastic but lacking style.
Glass snapped his fingers. “Come back to me, Les. Your eyes were closing.”
Les blinked. “Sorry. Is there anything else?”
Glass opened a folder. Les noted several photographs in a pile. “These are the Russian diplomats in town. Memorize their faces.”
Les spun the folder around and looked through the photographs. One of the best tools an operative had was a perfect memory. Luckily, he possessed one. Once memorized, he never forgot a face. “Got them,” he said, passing the folder back. “What should we do about the Kozyrevs for now?”
“Get in touch with Semyon and find out when the next League meeting is. You’ll want to make sure to pay those February dues. Have Miss Loudon send a thank you note to Irina for her kindness. Other than that, the League and the Kozyrevs may have to go back into the files since they are out of sight in Hull. Too few resources.”
“I’ll see if Sadie has their address. I don’t have it, but they must have assumed I’d have a way to get in touch with the League.”
Glass examined the membership cards. “Probably done by the same printer that was used for those flyers. I recognize the damaged E.”
Les said, “You’re right. I must be more tired than I expected.”
“Go home, take some rest. McCall will contact you. Treat him like a friend. No need for Sadie to understand the full picture.”
“Very well. I’ll need a ring for Sadie. She likes gifts.”
“I’ll have something sent over. But it will have to be cheap. Budgets, you know.”
Les nodded.
“Does Semyon have your address?”
“Since I make a point of interacting with every Russian bookseller, he can always find me. His network is as good as mine. Also, he probably acquired my wallet in Hull but I can’t be sure since it wasn’t returned to me.”
Glass twisted the corner of his mouth at the information. “Keep an eye on that.” He grinned. “And congratulations on your engagement.”
“Funny,” Les muttered.
* * *
Sadie, aware that Les was asleep downstairs on Saturday morning, stayed in stocking feet as she moved around the parlor, dusting and straightening. She hadn’t been raised to be either idle or untidy, but Les had the usual bachelor habits. Newspapers strewn about, two weeks old now, books piled higgledy-piggledy on tables or floors, some with bookmarkers torn from newsprint. One extremely disgusting piece of newsprint that had been used to wrap fish and chips some weeks ago. Thankfully it was too early for ants, because she found a couple of fish coating bits next to the chair. When she finished straightening she began to sweep the rug, making a tidy pile of crumbs and other debris on the floorboards at the edge of the room.
“Sadie, darling, what are you up to?”
She glanced up, pleased to hear Les’s voice back to its usual heartiness. He hadn’t yet dressed, and she should be shocked by the sight of his bare feet and pajamas.
“Good heavens, what is that on your head?”
She patted it. “Just your largest handkerchief. I didn’t want dust in my hair.”
“We all share a maid in this building. I get her on Thursdays.”
“She hasn’t been in the past two Thursdays, I can guarantee you that,” Sadie said, hands on hips as she surveyed the room. “No respectable woman would have left a fish and chips wrapper on the floor. No wonder it smells greasy in here.”
“Right you are. I let her in, you see. She doesn’t have the keys.”
“And we came here on a Thursday. I can’t live like this for five days, Les.”
“Why don’t you toss those crumbs in a bin and have a nice bath?” He stepped into the room, careful to skirt her pile, and ran his hands up and down her upper arms. “You’ve had a busy day.”
“I did?”
“Yes, but you need to return to the Grand Russe.”
“I do?” Sadie felt stupid.
“You still haven’t seen your sister, and there’s the position to check on.”
“Didn’t you see the papers? There was mysterious police activity at the hotel on Thursday, when I was there. I know it was true, I saw them myself.”
“Yes, but that was two days ago. It’s bound to be fine now.”
She shivered. “What if someone was killed there?”
“No one was killed. And remember those delicious movie stars. You want to see them, don’t you?”
His blue-gray eyes had a mesmerizing effect on her, especially so close. As she watched his face, his eyes half-closed into a sleepy sexuality, he pulled
her against his dressing gown, dusty apron and all. When his head tilted, placing his clever lips just at the level of her mouth, she didn’t resist, but wrapped her arms around his neck, remembering how it had felt the first time.
She gasped when her breasts pressed against his chest, nipples already budding, and he took her open-mouthed, their first kiss since she’d almost lost him. His tongue slid along hers and she caressed him right back, feeling liquid all over. This was how girls fell, fell happily and completely.
She felt like a wife but wasn’t. Her head was such a mess. He pulled back, sucking her lower lip between his teeth. When he nipped, he had her full attention again, then he dipped his head down to caress her neck.
“That’s nice,” she whispered, letting her head fall back. He cradled it in one large palm while he nibbled and licked around her neck, kissed the base of her throat. She took it all in stride, feeling glorious, until his other hand went to her bottom and squeezed. Her eyes snapped open and she stepped back.
“Les!”
“Sorry, sorry,” he said, his eyes wide and unfocused. “Carried away, human nature.”
She put both hands to her chest. Her heart was pounding. “There’s such a thing as too far.”
“I know. You’re a good girl, Sadie.” He rubbed his head as he stepped back. Was it hurting?
“I’m not that good,” she admitted. “But I was never around boys enough to find myself in trouble.”
One side of his mouth curved up in a boyishly mischievous smile. “You’ve fallen into it, good and proper.”
“And how,” she agreed. “But there’s cleaning to be done, and I’ve scattered dust all over your dressing gown.”
“There’s a woman who will collect my washing and bring it back Monday. I call her landlady. I’ll gather up a load, sheets and everything.”
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