I glanced back to find Sidney leaned over watching me. “Close the cupboard door and follow me.”
He did as he was told, crawling after me into a dark, eight-by-eight square room. Underfoot crunched hay strewn across the floor. Once he was through, I let the wall drop back into place and reached up and then down to shoot bolts into sockets in the ceiling and floor, preventing anyone outside from opening the hidden door.
“Very clever,” Sidney proclaimed, examining the mechanisms.
“Yes, it came in quite handy at times for our agents. The local German patrols and gendarmes liked to stop in this house to warm up, never knowing there was a secret room just beyond the cupboard, hiding the enemy.”
He turned to look around at the hay-strewn space, its only contents a few boxes, an old carriage lamp I was lighting, and a partially burned candle. “But what if they discovered you were here? Wouldn’t you be trapped?”
I shook my head, striding toward one of the far corners and bending over to search for the rope buried by straw. “This is a trap door leading into the cellars. And then from there one could escape through a grating in the outer wall.”
“This space was well-planned.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the impressed tone of his voice. “Well, I don’t know who precisely to credit with the design. Perhaps it was here before the war. Either way, we put it to good use.”
I knelt to rummage through the boxes, eager to be free of my kerosene-soaked skirt. Fortunately, there were a few ragged items of clothing—an old gray skirt for me and a pair of brown trousers. They were hardly ideal, but given the alternative, I was happy to have them.
Sidney seemed of the same mindset, swiftly exchanging his pungent, wet bottoms for the ragged pair. Though he did sigh rather heavily to see they were at least three inches too short for his frame.
The first box also contained a blanket, and he located a small collection of tools in the other, including a pair of pliers. So with that matter sorted, we bedded down together on a mound of hay for whatever remained of the night.
I’d only just settled comfortably when I heard his breathless snorts of suppressed laughter. Sidney struggled for a few more moments, before I glanced over at him where he lay on his back.
“What is so funny?”
He cleared his throat. “Nothing. It’s just . . . I used to lie awake during the war sometimes aching for you. But I didn’t expect when I returned that I would find myself lying awake beside you aching in every other muscle.” He guffawed.
I rolled over to swat him. “Sidney.”
He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close even as he still trembled with laughter. I stared up at him in disapproval, though it was almost certainly foiled by the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips.
* * *
In the windowless room it was difficult to tell how much time had passed. It was surprisingly warm and cozy. I recalled thinking the same thing the last time I’d stayed there. Though, at the time, I’d believed it was exhaustion that made it so. Perhaps it still was.
Whatever the case, some hours after our arrival I was woken by the sound of the cupboard door opening. I sat upright almost at the same time Sidney did. He began to scrabble for his pistol, but I placed a hand on his arm and shook my head. With the bolts in place, no one could open the secret door. If they even knew it was there.
That was the question. For it could well be a passing traveler, searching for a warm place to rest. Or just someone exploring the vacant house.
But if they knew about the secret door and this secret room, well, then that signaled something quite different. Either someone privy to the knowledge had shared it with an outsider, or someone working with the intelligence networks in Belgium during the war was outside that door. I had a difficult time believing the timing of such a visit did not indicate the latter.
Something scraped against the wall, as if feeling along it. My heart lodged in my throat as I glanced at the trap door, wondering if we would have to attempt to flee. If the men from the barn had realized we’d escaped, perhaps they’d guessed where we’d gone and planned to set the house ablaze as well.
So when someone suddenly rapped on the wall as if paying a call at the door to our flat, it was understandable that I should jump.
“Verity, Sidney, I know you’re in there.”
My eyes met my husband’s. Both of us recognized the voice.
“Let me in. I have information you need.”
Sidney arched a single eyebrow in skepticism.
When neither of us answered, he spoke again in a wry voice through the wall. “You can’t think I mean you any harm.”
I frowned, whispering to Sidney. “What should we do? We can’t just sit here.”
It was his turn to glance toward the trap door, but I shook my head in impatience. “If he knows about the secret door, then he likely knows about the second exit.”
He sighed, but reached over to light the carriage lamp, and I blinked at the muted glow.
“Verity?”
I looked to Sidney, and he nodded.
“Just a minute, Alec,” I snapped back, not wanting him to think for a moment his presence was welcomed.
“You open the door,” Sidney murmured in my ear after positioning the lamp where he wanted it. He drew his pistol, standing in the shadows as he leveled it at the spot where Alec would emerge “But stay to the side as he crawls through.”
I wanted to trust he wouldn’t shoot him unless it was absolutely necessary, but given our trio’s complicated history, I would be lying if I didn’t say I harbored doubts. Sidney noticed my hesitation and cast his black scowl my way. Lifting up a prayer that there wouldn’t soon be blood on my hands, I reached down to release the first bolt and then stood on tiptoe to trigger the second.
Just as I stepped to the side, the wall swung inward and Alec’s dark head poked through. He shimmied through the opening, only to rise to his feet to find Sidney’s Luger pointed in his face.
His mouth twisted into a sardonic grin. “So that’s how it is, is it? Though, I suppose I can’t blame you given the night it appears you’ve been having.”
“Search him,” Sidney told me.
I thought about arguing, for the last thing I wanted to do was run my hands over the body of the man I’d told my husband less than thirty-six hours before that I’d slept with when I’d believed he was dead—all while my husband looked on. But he was right. We didn’t know if we could trust Alec. It would be foolhardy in the extreme not to confiscate any weapons he might be carrying. Not that I didn’t think he could be equally as deadly with his fists if the situation called for it. But the less options for him to do harm, the better.
It didn’t help that Alec seemed to find the entire exercise a colossal joke. “Is this retribution for that time I had to search you?” he quipped as I slid my hands over his arms and then along his torso, harking back to our first meeting at the Kommandantur in Brussels.
“It’s not retribution if you’re still enjoying it and I’m not,” I retorted, amazed at his cheek in flirting with me in front of my husband. Then again, he didn’t know that Sidney now knew about us.
“Ah, right,” he murmured, though the gleam in his eyes clearly communicated he thought I was lying.
I rolled my eyes as I knelt to search down his legs, doing so more roughly than was necessary. Lifting up his right trouser hem, I extracted a dagger from a holder attached to his ankle and sank back on my heels to hold it up for both men to see. I arched my eyebrows pointedly at Alec.
“Did you honestly think I would be completely unarmed? I had no idea what I would be walking into after seeing that blazing inferno of a barn in the distance from the main road. And then when I spotted what a wreck they made of Sidney’s Pierce-Arrow.”
I withheld a gasp, though I couldn’t stop from turning my head to look at Sidney. The dim light of the carriage lamp cast stark shadows over his features, making his hard jawline even more
pronounced, as well as the anger glittering in his eyes.
“Is he clear?” he bit out.
“Yes, just the knife,” I replied, rising to my feet.
Sidney lowered his pistol, transferring it to his left hand as he approached.
“Well, now that that unpleasantness is over with . . .” Alec began, only to be cut off by Sidney’s swift punch to his face.
CHAPTER 25
Alec was knocked back into the wall, which wobbled from the impact, the bolts not having been thrown back in place. I stared wide-eyed at the two men, braced for them to come to blows. But instead of continuing to pummel him, as he’d clearly caught the other man off-guard, Sidney backed away, shaking his hand twice before lowering it to his side.
Alec regained his balance and pressed a hand to his lip, which was stained with blood. “Don’t blame the messenger, old chum,” he drawled, perfectly sanguine about the entire altercation. He rolled his jaw. “I didn’t know you were unaware they’d torched your car.” But in the silence that fell, his eyes darted first to mine and then Sidney’s, dawning with understanding. “Ah. I guess you told him.”
I nodded.
“Sorry, old chap,” he replied affably, as if he were apologizing for beating him at cards and not adultery with his wife. “She never would have looked my way if we hadn’t believed you were dead.” He shrugged, checking his lip for blood again before reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief. “Even then, she was still in love with you.”
My cheeks heated at the realization my feelings had been so evident. Having this discussion was slightly akin to a nightmare, and I was eager to be done with it.
Fortunately, so was Sidney. “Why are you here?” he demanded. “And what is this information you have that is so important you tracked us down to tell us?” He didn’t bother to hide his mistrust.
I thought Alec might take offense at that, but he brushed it off like all the other slights. I supposed spending four years posing as a German officer had taught him how to ignore insults quite effectively.
“After I separated from you in Liège, I couldn’t stop thinking about the matter, so I decided to do a little investigating of my own.” His expression turned serious. “And what I discovered convinced me you might be in danger.”
“How did you know where to find us?” Sidney charged, still dangling his pistol at his side.
“You kept tabs on us through Captain Landau’s office?” I guessed, having already deduced that was how he’d known where to send his last message.
He nodded. “I was already on my way to find you when I checked in with the office in Brussels and discovered you were headed to Tourcoing. I saw the flames from the road, and decided it was too much of a coincidence not to investigate. And then when I saw the state of that beautiful Pierce-Arrow . . .”
Sidney winced.
“Well, I knew something must have happened to you. But if you escaped, you would likely make your way here.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, scrutinizing his features. “I didn’t know you were aware of this house.”
His lips creased into a tight grin around the handkerchief still pressed there. “I’m aware of a great many things.” He tilted his head. “Like the fact that Monsieur Dewé and Monsieur Chauvin do not trust me. I suppose because of the role I played during the war. And that is why Monsieur Chauvin pretended he wished to show you his orchids so that he could tell you what Madame Moreau discovered about the Germans’ wireless-controlled aeroplane.”
I dropped my arms to my sides in surprise. “You knew about that?”
He nodded. “But what Chauvin and even Captain Landau don’t know is that the British Royal Flying Corps had already successfully developed such an aircraft and tested prototypes earlier in the war.”
“What?”
“But why did we never hear of such a thing? Why wasn’t it put to use?” Sidney demanded.
“Because the craft was never perfected.” He removed the handkerchief from his mouth, stuffing it back into his pocket. “And because the top brass lost interest.”
Sidney huffed as if that explained a lot. “Then why was British Intelligence so anxious for Madame Moreau to uncover more information about the Germans’ invention?”
I already knew the answer to that. “They needed to know how far along the enemy was in developing it. Whether it was a cause for concern or little more than a concept.”
Alec held up his hand. “Don’t get me wrong. The concept is still valuable, no matter where it comes from. Especially if the inventor was able to work out the difficulties the British scientists and engineers were struggling with. Someone could sell that information for a pretty penny.”
My gaze lingered on Alec’s face, somewhat surprised to discover he was more knowledgeable of intelligence matters than I’d realized. That or he had a lot of highly placed friends. Though they were both captains, he certainly outranked Landau in some unilateral way.
“Is that what you believe happened?” I asked him. “That someone is after that information, and they think Emilie has it?”
“I’m only saying I’m guessing that’s one of your suspicions given your visit to Havay, and that it’s possible. Though not necessarily for the reason you think.”
I glanced at Sidney, wondering what he thought of this disclosure. He still glowered at Alec, but he appeared to be mulling over the matter.
However, Alec’s revelations were not complete. “I also thought you would find it interesting that Landau was in London the morning Madame Zozza, one Mona Kertle, was killed.”
A sinking feeling began in my stomach. “That’s something he failed to mention. Though not incriminating on its own. After all, weren’t you there as well?”
His eyes sparked with amusement. “I was not.”
My and Sidney’s gazes met in confusion.
“I take it that’s one of the reasons for your charming welcome,” Alec drawled flippantly. “The fire happened the morning of the eighth, did it not? Well, I was in Paris until the evening of the ninth when I traveled back to London, where I chatted with your friend, the Earl of Ryde, in the War Office the afternoon of the tenth.”
I supposed that meant he couldn’t have been the one to kill Madame Zozza. At least, not directly. After all, we knew that somehow the man masquerading as the author Jonathan Fletcher and a compatriot of his were involved, whether as the main culprits or henchmen.
But Alec had never struck me as the type to involve others in what must be done unless it was necessary. More people meant more loose lips, loose ends, and potentials to be caught. For instance, when we’d copied that codebook, he’d only asked for one person to assist him, though a dozen could have copied the book in one night. The thought of that bumbling Mr. “Fletcher” being employed by suave, careful Alec was laughable.
When the silence stretched too long, some of the humor faded from Alec’s eyes to be replaced by something hard. “There were numerous witnesses, should you need to speak with them.”
I shook my head, brushing aside the matter for the moment. “What else did you discover about Captain Landau?” I asked, knowing him well enough to tell there was more. Otherwise he would never have raised the guise of Landau having been in London the day Madame Zozza died.
He dipped his head, as if in approval. “I always did like that about you, Verity. You never let me dither around the point.”
I arched a single eyebrow, indicating that’s exactly what he was doing now.
His eyes flicked to the pistol in Sidney’s hand, his voice strained at the edges. “Are you going to put that away now?”
He narrowed his eyes in challenge. “Does it make you nervous?”
“My good nature lasts longer than most, but there gets to be a point when having another chap feel the need to have his weapon drawn becomes an insult.”
Sidney looked to me, asking my opinion, and I nodded. I didn’t think Alec meant to harm us. At least not here, not now.
He
studied the man across from him a moment longer and then slid the pistol into the pocket of his coat.
Alec seemed to relax by a degree. “Landau never reported the threats to the members of La Dame Blanche. He also scarcely mentioned the potential for reprisal by German loyalists in his dispatches.”
“And yet he seemed to make a particular point to mention that to me,” I murmured, thinking back over our conversation in his office in Brussels.
“I noticed that as well.”
I dipped my head to stare at the hay-strewn floor. Could Landau be behind all this? Madame Zozza’s death, the attempts on Emilie’s life and mine, Emilie’s subsequent decision to go into hiding? It seemed impossible. The man I had known and worked with upon occasion in Rotterdam during the war had not seemed capable of such deception, of such cold-bloodedness. But then again, it was often those who seemed least capable who proved to have the greatest aptitude at it. That had certainly proved true during our last investigation.
“So, he needs me to find Emilie so that he can obtain whatever information she has on the Germans’ wireless-controlled aeroplane?” I speculated aloud. “But then why did he try to kill us last night when he was content to merely follow us before? We haven’t found Emilie yet, so why the sudden escalation to violence?”
I felt sick at the idea that my former commanding officer, a man I’d considered a friend, had been the second man outside the barn. Or that he’d ordered such an action. But I also couldn’t help but note that he had not been in his office in Brussels either of the last two times I telephoned him. He easily could have caught up with us in Maubeuge, where he predicted we would need to spend the night.
Alec shrugged. “Perhaps he was worried you were too close to the truth. People under the strain of detection often make mistakes.”
“Or maybe he was anxious we’d discovered something he hadn’t planned on. Something at Havay.” The grave look in Sidney’s eyes made it clear he was thinking of something in particular.
Treacherous Is the Night Page 27