Ulterior Objectives: A Lillian Saxton Thriller

by Scott Dennis Parker

  James turned his face to scan the room. His expression was one of wonderment. Impassive in its search for Lillian.

  Or Frank, she realized. How in the world am I going to break the news to James that Frank was dead? That Frank was dead basically because of him.

  His eyes went from simple wondering to certitude when his glances locked with hers. His face at once relaxed and beamed. He broke into a wide grin that became an all-out smile as his lips parted to reveal his teeth: white, straight, and radiant. Even from across the room, the smile went all the way up to his eyes. They sparkled.

  Lillian’s stomach did another flip as she remembered how many times those eyes had turned her insides to butter as he melted her heart with them. How many times those eyes had captivated her. Those eyes, that had seen every inch of her and came away happier in the knowledge. Those eyes that had ravished her, told her they loved her, no matter what the future brought.

  Lillian’s breath came in short bursts.

  Henry said something to her but she didn’t hear it or understand anything. For all she knew, there were only two people in the world: Lillian Saxton and James Geiger.

  Then a woman, a blonde woman, sidled up to James. She eased herself next to him and slipped her arm around his. He broke his gaze with Lillian and gave the woman a kiss on the cheek.

  All the emotions that had swept up Lillian Saxton and taken her places she hadn’t been in six years evaporated in an instant. Her guts turned upside down. The weight that James’s eyes had lifted settled itself back onto her shoulders. The world rematerialized around her. It no longer consisted of just James and her and her fantasies. Henry was in it. He was looking at her, a genuine expression of concern plastered across his face. Other patrons were laughing, eating, and enjoying themselves without a care in the world. Waiters were bringing food. The cooks in the kitchen were preparing food. And somewhere in the world, there was a war on.

  Lillian finally realized Henry was speaking words at her. She blinked, as if coming out of hypnosis.

  “Are you okay?” Henry reached over and grasped her arm.

  She noted his touch with nonchalance. She grabbed her wine glass and threw a large amount into her mouth. She pointed with the hand holding her wine. Under her breath, she murmured, “The son of a bitch brought his wife.”

  CHAPTER 36

  “How do you know it’s his wife?” Henry asked.

  “James wasn’t the type to step out on a lady,” Lillian replied. She didn’t need a mirror to know her entire face had changed. She felt it.

  “Hey, you never know about a traitor.”

  Lillian flashed a look at him. “James is no traitor,” she hissed.

  “Why are we here again?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.

  She had no reply.

  James Geiger walked and smiled with the ease of a man accustomed to getting everything he wanted. His movements were nonchalant as the head waiter led the couple to the table. It wasn’t like Hollywood where all eyes turned to catch a glimpse of a star.

  Lillian recognized the look. It was the look of a man in command.

  But his countenance changed when he caught sight of Henry. Confusion swept over his face. He looked at Lillian, furrowing his brows in an unspoken question.

  Henry must have caught the look as well. He stood when the head waiter, James, and the woman arrived. The woman bowed at the neck at Henry’s gentlemanly gesture. “Good evening. My name’s Henry Clark.”

  James appeared charmed. He extended his hand. “James Geiger.” The two men clasped hands. “And may I present my wife, Elsa Geiger?”

  Now Lillian had a name for her.

  With her heels, Elsa and James nearly matched in height. By Lillian’s reckoning, that put Elsa a few inches taller than Lillian’s five foot eight. The red dress she wore could have been worn by a Hollywood starlet or a princess of a small Mediterranean country. It was form-fitting, showing off all her curves. The plunging neckline revealed just the top of her cleavage. The blonde hair was pulled to the back of her head and then fell gracefully to touch her shoulders. Around her neck sparkled a necklace of gold and gemstones. Matching earrings dangled from her ears. Her blue eyes glittered at the attention Henry was paying to her.

  Lillian finished her wine. She placed the empty glass back on the table a little harder than necessary.

  James caught the movement. He held out one of his arms. His intention was not to shake Lillian’s hand but to hug her. Still sitting, Lillian didn’t want to rise and give him that honor.

  To accommodate her, James leaned down and pecked her on the cheek. Being this close to him sent shivers down her spine despite her current circumstances. She noted he wore the same cologne she had selected for him back when they vacationed in Paris.

  Back when he broke her heart.

  “Elsa, may I present Lillian Saxton?”

  The blonde must have already known about Lillian’s history with James for Elsa appeared nonplussed. She affected the pseudo-genuine smile one dons at parties where all the guests are insufferable.

  Elsa extended her hand across the table. In heavily accented English, she said, “Pleased you meet you, Miss Saxton.”

  She speaks English, too?

  Lillian, after a nudge to her foot by Henry’s, reciprocated. The two women shook hands. “Hello.” The handshake quickly died.

  The head waiter, who had stood discreetly to the side during the introductions, now held the chair for Elsa. She sat opposite Lillian. James took the seat immediately to Lillian’s right.

  James waved off the wine steward. He indicated the glasses already on the table. “We’ll have whatever they’re having. Oh, and could you bring a refill for the lady here?” The wine steward bowed. He took Lillian’s glass and left.

  Folding his hands, James gazed at Lillian. “Well, it’s certainly been a long time.”

  Lillian cocked her head. “It certainly has.”

  “I told Elsa about how we dated in college. Those were good times.”

  Lillian wished the wine would get there quickly. “Yes, they were.” She didn’t trust herself to say more than a few words.

  James turned to Henry. “And what do you do?”

  Lillian stopped short. They had completely neglected to discuss any cover story for Henry. Like James and Elsa, she waited for his response.

  He must have realized that the best lie was mostly truth. “I work for the British government.”

  “Really?” James glanced at Lillian. “In what capacity?”

  “Accountant. I keep track of things coming and going. Real dull stuff, to be honest, but the pay’s good. And you?”

  Their wine arrived. The steward eased away. They all sipped.

  Elsa made a face that she quickly tried to hide.

  Lillian caught it.

  James blanketed the moment by answering Henry’s question.

  “Munitions. I manage a factory in Berlin that makes ordinance.”

  Henry nodded once. “Your business must be thriving.”

  “We’re doing well.” James turned his attention to Elsa. “My lovely wife helps out in the factory. She comes from a well-respected family that goes back generations, to a time before Germany was Germany.”

  The waiter arrived to take everyone’s order. “Anything you like,” James said. “It’s on me.”

  Lillian found she had lost her appetite. To compensate, she found the most expensive item on the menu and ordered it. She caught Elsa’s eyebrows as they raised, then lowered.

  James, nonplussed, ordered the same thing. Henry and Elsa ordered more modest items. The waiter smiled, asked if there was anything else, and left after James requested a bottle of champagne and four glasses.

  “Celebrating something?” Lillian said.

  “Actually yes.” James reached out and grasped his wife’s hand. “It’s our anniversary.”

  Of course it is, Lillian thought. Why the hell did I travel all this distance to see him again?

&nb
sp; “I thought it would be a great idea to share it with some of my best old friends from college. Tell me, where is Frank?”

  “The morgue. Or maybe already on the way back to America. Either way, Frank’s dead.”

  Henry didn’t move.

  Elsa’s eyes watched her husband’s reaction.

  James’s glass froze halfway to his mouth. He wet his lips and spoke barely above a whisper. “That can’t be. I just saw him a month ago.”

  “I know. He told me.”

  James wet his mouth with wine. “How?”

  Lillian ignored the gentle nudge from Henry’s foot. She knew why he wanted to be cautious. They weren’t sure how far to trust James. And now that he had brought his wife, who knew what kind of classified material she was privy to? Still, she could tell the truth to a point.

  “Food poisoning. In Liverpool. Something didn’t agree with him. He fell ill and died soon thereafter.” She uttered the words in such a matter-of-fact manner that it surprised even her.

  “How dreadful,” Elsa said. “James has told me all about your time together in Oxford. You were close to him?”

  At that moment, Lillian wanted to know exactly what and how much James had told Elsa about him and Lillian. Instead, she reverted back to good old Frank. “Although we hadn’t seen each other in years, Frank was like a comfortable coat. When you put it on, it just fits. Frank was the type of man who always smiled and had a kind word. He always supported you, even if you hadn’t seen him in years.” Her voice caught and she stopped for a moment.

  Henry filled the gap. “It’s still raw.”

  “So,” James said to Henry, “how did you two meet?”

  Without missing a beat Henry replied coolly. “I knew Frank. His bank had dealings with my office from time to time. We got to know each other. I was in Liverpool on business when he and Lillian landed. We ate dinner together before Frank was poisoned. Poor chap. He really was a good as Lillian says he was.”

  “But why are you here?” James persisted.

  Henry shrugged. He reached over and laid a firm hand on Lillian’s arm. “After Frank’s death, she told me she still had to cross the Channel and come here. I asked her if whatever she and Frank had to do could wait. She said no. I told her I’d be her escort, help her through this.” He patted her arm. “Frank was such a good chap.”

  James sipped his wine. His eyes darted from Lillian to Henry.

  Lillian could tell he was weighing what he had heard with what he knew about her. “You’re a gentleman to accompany Lillian here to Belgium.”

  “But?” Lillian said. “I know you well enough to know there’s a but coming.”

  James smiled thinly. “It’s just that you had quite an independent streak back at Oxford and in our semester here on the Continent. The Lillian Saxton I knew wouldn’t need a man to accompany her on her work.”

  Lillian simmered with fury at the implication. Aloud, she murmured, “Things change.”

  “And what do you do?” Elsa asked. “My James has told me all about Oxford but not what it is you do now.”

  Bristling at the word ‘my,’ Lillian played it straight. “I’m in the United States Army. A sergeant.”

  Henry and James didn’t react.

  Elsa looked as if Lillian’s words had just slapped her in the face. “You’re a soldier?”

  “I am.”

  “But you’re a woman.”

  “I am that as well.”

  “Doesn’t it bother you to work in a profession where men are naturally superior?”

  Whatever Lillian might have said died inside her as the waiter returned with their meal. The four diners were all smiles when they saw the lavish presentation of their food. The wine steward brought a chilled bottle of champagne, four champagne flutes, and an ice bucket. He popped the cork and poured the sparkling liquid into the flutes and departed.

  James lifted his flute. “This was supposed to be a toast to old friends seeing each other again and having a gay old time, but let’s have the first toast be to Frank Monroe. A steady man in an unsteady world.” Lillian, Henry, and Elsa all lifted flutes, clinked them together, and drank.

  The quartet ate in silence for a few minutes. The only comments consisted of how good the food was, the niceness of the hotel, and, according to James, how good it was to see Lillian again.

  The elephant in the room was brought up by Elsa. “As a soldier, Lillian, do you think America will get into the war?”

  Lillian stopped chewing momentarily before resuming. She swallowed. “I certainly hope so. I want to ensure the United States has its rightful place at the peace table.”

  “I understand. But how do you think your president will react to being the first president to whom terms will be dictated?”

  Lillian smiled thinly. “It’s not going to happen that way. If anything, it’ll be der Führer on the opposite end of a victory table.”

  Elsa frowned and appeared genuinely confused. “Did you not see how we handled Poland? Or Denmark? I think you underestimate how effective our military has become. We will win, of course.” She cut another piece of her dinner. “How about Britain, Mr. Clark? Prime Minister Chamberlain is already fluent in giving up.”

  James interrupted before the discussion could move any further. “My dear, this is a nice meal. These are our friends. Let’s not have such talk here.”

  Lillian wiped her mouth with her napkin and threw it on the table. “Why not talk about it, James? It’s why we’re here, right? I mean, it’s certainly not to see me or Frank, if he were here. You don’t really care about me. I know how this sounds, all whiney and such, but I don’t care. Not once in six years did you think to write or call to see how I was doing. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to call you since I wasn’t the one who broke everything off.”

  Elsa looked shocked for a moment which gave Lillian more evidence that James had not told his wife everything about them.

  James smiled at Lillian’s outburst. “Come on, Lil. It’s not like that.”

  “Then what is it like, Jay?” Since he had used her nickname, she retaliated by using his. She didn’t let him answer. “Forget it. Can we just go to your room so you can deliver both things to us and we can part again? This time forever.”

  Henry cocked his head at a word Lillian said. “Both? What else is there?”

  Lillian waved him off. “It’s nothing. No, it’s personal.”

  “Nothing?” Incredulity laced James’s voice. “I hardly think it is nothing. Tell me: would you have come all this way just for the codebook? What really got you here?”

  “Codebook?” Elsa asked. “What codebook?”

  In the back of her mind, Lillian noted Elsa’s curious question and determined she didn’t know the true purpose of this trip. In the moment, however, Lillian shot back an answer. “You’re damn right I would. I’m even here after Frank was poisoned, which, by the way, wasn’t from food poisoning. He was murdered by a secret Nazi spy ring in Liverpool.” She felt satisfied when a look of shock and worry crossed James’s face.

  Under the table, Henry kicked her foot. Not softly.

  “What?” She turned to him.

  “I think you should keep your voice down,” Henry murmured. “This isn’t the time or place to be discussing this.”

  Abruptly, James folded his napkin and placed it on the table. “Your friend is correct, Lillian. It would be best if we took this upstairs.” He rose and gestured for Elsa to do the same.

  “But our food,” his wife protested. “We’re not finished.”

  “We are now.” James’s eyes scanned the room. No one seemed to give them any notice.

  “Fine.” Lillian stood. On second thought, she reached down and grabbed her wine glass. She downed the contents and slammed it on the table. “Let’s go.”

  Henry rose at that. He put a guiding hand around her waist and leaned in close. “Not here. Mind yourself. And calm down.”

  His breath tickled her ear. “This isn’t
my first time in the field.”

  “But you’re acting like it. I noticed at least four people who turned and noticed you while you started off on your rant. After Liverpool and Dover, anything is possible. Lay your head on my shoulder. We might salvage this if they think you’re drunk.”

  “Like hell I am.” She moved forward, brushing past James and Elsa, leaving Henry alone next to the table. She strode quickly to the grand central staircase and waited, her arm hooked over the railing.

  Henry, James, and Elsa joined her.

  “That was a horrible display,” James hissed to her. “Don’t you realize the situation we’re in, that you’re in? Who knows how many of those people might be spies?”

  Lillian glanced at Henry. He gave her a disapproving look. “He’s right.”

  “Shut up.” Lillian whirled on James. “Can we just go to your room and get the damn book and the name?”

  Elsa repeated her earlier question. “James, what book is she talking about?”

  James narrowed his eyes at Lillian. He pursed his lips, thinking. After a moment, he said, “We’re on the top floor. Eight zero nine. Now that we’ve been seen together, I guess secrecy is irrelevant. Follow us.”

  He led them all to the elevators. They rode up in tense silence. Henry and Lillian stood in the rear, behind James and Elsa. Deftly, Henry unbuttoned his jacket. With his eyes, he indicated her purse. She nodded once. She snapped it open, holding her fingers over the clasp to avoid making any sound.

  They reached the eighth floor. James stepped out and allowed his wife to walk next to him. Lillian and Henry held back a couple of paces. She looked over her shoulder. No one else strolled the hallway. From the open stairway that led to the ground floor, the faint murmur of the restaurant crowd could still be heard. She shifted her purse to her left arm so she could draw with her right.

  Arriving at his room, James extracted a key and unlocked the door. His eyes, too, swept the hallway. Satisfied, he closed the door behind him and locked it.

  “Can I offer you a drink?” He indicated the bottle of whiskey on the desk.

  “No, thank you,” Lillian said. “Just give us the book and the name and we’ll be on our way.”