Eleanor looked impressed. “Good point.”
“Another thing. Even if Violette wanted to confide in Leo, she couldn’t be absolutely sure. After what happened in France, she probably didn’t feel she could trust anyone at the SOE. I mean, maybe Leo was working with the traitor or was under his control somehow. More than anything, she wanted to keep her notebook safe,” I said. “But I wonder…”
“Go on,” David urged.
“Well, I wonder if somehow Leo Marks caught sight of Violette that afternoon. And then he followed her—and you too, Eleanor.”
“Where did Violette ask you to meet her, Eleanor?” David asked.
“Well, we met in Portman Square. Then we made our way to Regent Street,” Eleanor replied. “Portman Square isn’t too far a walk from Baker Street.”
“I wonder…” I tried to work it out. I wished I could be like Sherlock Holmes and magically spout the correct solution. “I wonder if Violette went to Baker Street before she met you, Eleanor. After all, she had been away in France for months. Maybe she just wanted to be sure the SOE office was still in the same location.” As I spoke, I tripped over LR’s lead and almost fell on top of her. “Sorry, girl.”
“Here, let me take her so you can walk and talk at the same time,” Eleanor teased.
I made a face but barely stopped for breath. “Here’s what I think. When I followed Leo Marks to Baker Street, I saw him look out of a window. What if Violette had been watching the building from about the same spot I was? If he recognized her, he would have been—”
“Shocked,” finished David, “because she was supposed to be in France.”
I nodded. “And then he might have gone after her and seen her with you, Eleanor. Violette probably suspected she was being followed as you were walking along Regent Street. And then after the air-raid began, she might even have ducked into Mill Street to hide.”
“Or Leo Marks could have found her and confronted her.” Eleanor’s words spilled out. “Maybe she told him about the notebook. But when she said she no longer had it, he might have knocked her down. Bertie, did you notice if her pockets had been turned out, as if someone had searched through them?”
I thought that through. “I don’t think so. But I suppose that theory could work. And Leo was running along Maddox Street in the same direction that you were. And I did see him the next day in Grosvenor Square. So I suppose it’s possible he was following you, Eleanor.”
David shook his head. “I…I just can’t believe that Leo Marks is a double agent. I mean, think about it. He grew up in a bookstore. He reads Sherlock Holmes!”
That made Eleanor smile for just a minute. Then she sighed. “I feel like we’re back where we started: We have to solve the last message and figure out Violette’s trap.”
“What else did Leo say about ciphers?” I asked David.
“Well, he did mention another possibility: a key word cipher with a mixed alphabet.”
“That sounds pretty confusing,” I said.
“It’s actually a really interesting kind of cipher. You put a word or phrase at the beginning of the alphabet. And then, without repeating letters, you fill in the rest of the alphabet,” David said.
Seeing our blank stares, he added, “Say your key word is BLITZ. You write those letters first, so B stands for A, L for B, I for C, T for D, and Z for E. Then you just keep going, starting with A, filling in the rest of the cipher alphabet, skipping the letters you already used in the key word. A stands for F, the next letter in the plain alphabet. Since you already used B in the key word, you don’t use it again. So then C stands for G and so on. You just have to remember not to repeat any letters. So if your key word has any duplicates, like two Es or something, you skip the second one.”
“I think I get it, but I’ll have to see it written out to really understand it. Maybe we can work on that tomorrow afternoon,” said Eleanor.
I wondered if we were all thinking the same thing: Tomorrow was Thursday. Time was running out fast.
“It feels like every time we get closer to finding the truth, more questions arise,” said David.
“Here’s another question,” said Eleanor. “Now that we know Leo Marks is Q, should we confront him about following Violette, even though we don’t know if he had anything to do with her disappearance?”
“No—at least not yet.” I shook my head. “We don’t want to ruin Violette’s plans. For all we know, she’s been in hiding and the trap is all set to be sprung.”
“And if she’s not…,” David began.
“If she’s not, we need to figure out the trap and spring it ourselves,” I said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Shortly after the sirens wailed you could hear the Germans grinding overhead….You could feel the shake from the guns. You could hear the boom, crump, crump, crump, of heavy bombs at their work of tearing buildings apart. They were not too far away.
—Ernie Pyle, American war correspondent in London
When we neared Berwick Street, David decided to head home. “Another history test tomorrow, Bertie,” he reminded me.
“Mr. Turner works us harder than any other teacher,” I told Eleanor. I wasn’t sure how much history reading I’d do later. I had Violette’s notebook with me. And I’d much rather work on the code than read about the Roman invasion.
“Well, Mr. Turner is demanding, but I like him,” David put in. “He says that because we’re living through a war against tyranny, we have a special responsibility.”
“What kind of responsibility?” Eleanor asked.
“To learn from the past, understand the present, and change the future,” David said.
Eleanor turned to face us. “Violette felt responsible too. That’s what made her decide to risk her life. We can’t let her down.” She put her hand out. “Let’s put our hands together in a circle, like they do before a quest.”
I picked up LR and we formed a circle to make our pledge: three hands and one furry paw.
* * *
—
I walked Eleanor to Hay’s Mews, then said goodbye. LR and I meandered through Grosvenor Square, since I still had a few minutes before my shift. I walked around, thinking, while LR sniffed everything in sight. Sometimes she’d pounce on tiny crumbs from someone’s lunch, her small, curly tail wagging a mile a minute.
We hadn’t seen the sun all day, and now the gray skies were darkening to black. It felt eerie somehow. Maybe it was Eisenhower’s headquarters looming before us. The blackout shades hid everything. But I knew it must be buzzing with activity inside.
“That’s where Supreme Commander Eisenhower works. I bet your Scottish terrier friend Telek is there beside him,” I told Little Roo.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Violette and what was at stake. Warden Hawk had said this invasion would be the largest military operation in history, with thousands of troops landing on the coast of France on the first day. The landings would be followed by an onslaught of more soldiers, tanks, and planes, all focused on defeating Hitler’s forces—and ending the war.
But what if things didn’t go according to plan? What if the Germans were waiting for those soldiers as they spilled from their small boats onto the beaches? I wondered if anyone at military headquarters had an inkling that the invasion plan was in peril.
I was still standing there when it began. The sirens started up, their horrible wails crashing over me. LR began to shake and howl. For a minute, I hesitated. Should I run to make sure Eleanor and her grandmother were all right? No, they had a Morrison shelter in their home. They’d be fine.
I’d remembered to put my helmet in my school knapsack. I stuck it on my head before setting off along Brook Street to the command post. I didn’t have my bicycle, but the wardens kept a few battered old bikes in the office. The most important thing was to get there.
The anti-aircraft guns had already gone into action. LR kept on howling, even as she trotted behind me. I raced past the red brick of Claridge’s, with the British flag waving proudly over the entrance. I had to dodge several couples who seemed to be complaining that their dinner plans were being ruined.
I passed Master Humphrey’s Clock Shop and slackened my pace to peer inside. I couldn’t see any movement. I hoped Mr. Humphrey had a Morrison shelter. With his cane, he’d have a hard time rushing to a public shelter.
I was about to turn right on New Bond Street, which would take me to the command post on Maddox, when a flare flashed behind me. Before I could take another step, a strong blast threw me to the ground. I felt the air being sucked out of my lungs. I reached for LR and held her close. She tried to wriggle away, back toward the blast.
Right away, I knew. The block behind me—and the clock shop—had taken a hit. And the old man with the fierce smile and the wild, bright hair was probably inside.
“Let’s go back, LR!”
We were on the spot before anyone else. I guessed Mr. Humphrey lived above the shop. Maybe he had a Morrison upstairs, but if he’d been downstairs in the shop, he’d be in trouble.
I coughed as I came closer. The brick dust was thick and smoke filled my lungs. The door was gone, blown away. I stood in the empty space and yelled, “Mr. Humphrey? Mr. Humphrey, are you in here?”
Silence. I tried again.
I heard a moan. Little Roo whined and her small body quivered with anxiety. She pulled on the lead. “Lead me to him, girl. Mr. Humphrey! Can you hear me? Where are you?”
“Here. I’m here in the back office.”
He was conscious, at least. I took a step. The dust was so thick I could barely breathe. I coughed again and felt glass crunch under my foot. Mr. Humphrey’s lovely display cases had been shattered. He’s probably lost everything, I thought. He was so proud of his shop, so determined to stick it out until the invasion. Until the end.
My eyes adjusted a little in the smoky gloom. I inched closer, but I wasn’t sure I should go all the way through the shop. It might be safer to wait for help.
“Mr. Humphrey,” I called again. I wanted to keep communication open. “My name is Bertie Bradshaw. I’m a civil defense volunteer. We met a few days ago in front of the bookshop.”
“I remember.” Mr. Humphrey coughed. The dust was thick. Then his voice came again, stronger this time. “So you’ve come to rescue me, have you?”
“Sir, if you’re trapped under rubble, I should fetch help.”
“No!” he cried. I could hear panic in his voice. “Oh, no. Don’t leave me here, lad. We can get out. I just need someone to steady me.”
“All right.” I climbed over beams and piles of bricks and wood and shattered glass. My heart raced.
LR plunged ahead, her whole body straining against the lead. “Good work, LR. Lead me to him.”
Suddenly I felt sick and light-headed, like I had before. I had to lean over and retch.
“I can’t. I can’t do this,” I whispered. LR whined and stuck her warm muzzle in my face.
“You still coming?” Mr. Humphrey’s voice sounded faint and tinny.
Woof! LR barked, as if urging me to follow her. I took a step. The whole shop was spinning now. I grabbed blindly, wildly, trying to stay on my feet. Instead, I lost my balance and fell hard on my knees, cutting my hand on some glass. I didn’t feel it, though.
I put my head down. I didn’t want to be sick again. But I was. I felt frozen.
“I can’t move, Will! Come and get me. I’m scared.”
But, somehow, this time—unlike that other day—I did move.
“It is you!” said Mr. Humphrey when I reached him. He held out one arm for me to grab. “Just pull hard. My cane’s gone, lad, but I can make it.”
I took a deep breath. “One, two, three!”
He groaned. But then he was upright. We picked our way toward the doorway. I heard him gasp at the ruined display cases and broken glass.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry about your shop, Mr. Humphrey.”
Mr. Humphrey grunted. His hand gripped my arm. “I’ll survive. Like I told you, young Bertie, the invasion is coming. The tide’s about to turn.” He repeated it like a prayer. “Yes, the invasion is coming, and I’m going to be here in London when it happens. No matter what.”
* * *
—
It wasn’t until later, sitting on the ground with a blanket over my shoulders, that I began to cry. Warden Ita lowered his tall frame and put his arm around me. I shook a little, but gradually relaxed. LR snuggled in my lap.
“Why don’t you tell me about it, Bertie?” Warden Ita said softly. “It’s past time, I think.”
I glanced up and met his dark eyes. He smiled a little. “I’m not asking just about what happened today. Warden Hawk told me your home got hit in the Blitz. I think you were inside?”
I buried my face in Little Roo’s fur. I still felt a bit dizzy. I nodded. “Me and my brother, Will. Mum had run out to help a neighbor. She’d left Will in charge of me. He’s two years older. I didn’t like that.
“We had a back garden then, with an Anderson shelter in it. I was supposed to do what Will said if no one else was home. We’d even practiced it. But when the sirens went off that night, I was sleepy and grumpy. I was lying in bed and didn’t want to get up. I wouldn’t listen to him, and I didn’t move fast enough. But Will wouldn’t leave my side. And then the house got hit.”
In the background, I could hear the buzz of conversation as people gathered to look at the blast site and talk in low murmurs. I heard Mr. Humphrey’s voice too, louder than anyone else’s. “I’m not getting in that ambulance. I need to board up my shop to prevent looting!”
A constable tried to reassure him. I turned my head and saw that it was George Morton. “Now, sir, I give you my word as a veteran of Dunkirk it’ll get done, if I have to stay here until midnight and nail every board myself.”
“Dunkirk, was it?” Mr. Humphrey said. “Now, let me tell you what I think about that military operation….”
“Rather a feisty fellow, isn’t he?” Warden Ita grinned, then turned back to me. “So…what happened after your house was hit, Bertie?”
“I…I was on one side of the room, and there was this sort of tunnel between Will and me. I was too scared to move. I wouldn’t let him leave to get help. I made him come and get me. And then…”
Warden Ita’s voice was low. “And then the rubble shifted?”
I nodded. “Yes, a wall collapsed; Will got trapped. I was fine, but it took them a long time to rescue him. We didn’t know if he would make it.”
“You can’t blame yourself, Bertie,” Warden Ita said quietly. “You were younger then.”
“I was old enough to know better. I shouldn’t have put my own brother in danger. I was old enough to be brave.”
“Where’s Will now?”
“He’s in a rehabilitation hospital in Surrey. It’s in the same town where my cousin Jeffrey’s school moved after the war began. And it just so happens our grandmother lives nearby. So Mum has been staying with her to be close to Will. And I think maybe she couldn’t bear London anymore.”
“You didn’t go?”
I shook my head. “Dad got a chance to be caretaker at Trenchard House, so I stayed with him. He goes out to visit a lot. I used to visit too, at first. But then…Will had to keep having operations. In the end, they couldn’t save his left arm. At least he can write. But…”
“He’s alive, and that’s something,” said Warden Ita.
“I know Mum blames me,” I murmured. “And she’s right to do that. It was my fault.”
“You may always feel regret over what happened that night, Bertie. But that doesn’t mean you can’t move on with your life. You wer
e brave tonight,” said Warden Ita. “But it takes a different kind of bravery to talk to the ones we love, ask forgiveness, and move on. Sometimes all we can do is take one step at a time.”
An ambulance driver called to Warden Ita and he walked over to her vehicle. The all clear had already sounded, though I’d barely realized it. I petted LR and stared at the rubble. Mr. Humphrey wasn’t giving up. And I shouldn’t either. I needed to keep trying to solve Violette’s cipher. And I needed to make things better with Will. And Mum. I missed them both.
Warden Ita returned and reached out a hand to help me up. “Let’s go back to the command post and have some tea. Then we’ll get you home.”
“What about Mr. Humphrey? Will he be all right?”
“He just left. It took some convincing to get him to go to the hospital, even for one night of observation. We’ll contact his daughter.” Warden Ita chuckled. “As he was climbing into the ambulance, Mr. Humphrey said to thank you. And he had a message for you.”
“What was it?” I asked, though I thought I could guess.
Warden Ita said, “He said to remind you that no one, not even Hitler, will force him out of London, because—”
“Because the invasion is coming and he intends to be here when it happens.” And then I smiled.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It is a capital mistake to theorize before one has data….One begins to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to suit facts.
—Sherlock Holmes, in “A Scandal in Bohemia”
“That’s two rescues this week, Little Roo,” Warden Ita remarked as we walked to the command post. “You’re a credit to the civil defense. We might have to recommend you for that new Dickin Medal for animal bravery.”
How I Became a Spy Page 13