‘How did he know we were here?’
‘I don’t know.’ Eduard’s dark eyes mirrored my own exhaustion. ‘Köhler knew there was a leak in the Abwehr, someone was liaising with the British. I didn’t think he thought that was me. That I was working with Harrington. Maybe I missed something. Maybe Harrington did. All I can hope is that Köhler’s suspicions about me went no further.’ His eyes went to the sky, but then sharpened. He frowned his eyes meeting mine. ‘How did you know him?’
I held up the sgian dubh, let it lie flat in my hand.
‘This blade once belonged to a man named Alex Sinclair. He was my friend, and Köhler killed him.’
‘Why?’
‘Alex tried to save a girl that Köhler and his Gestapo friends kicked to death.’
I replaced the knife in its sheath, reacquired my PPK from Köhler’s corpse, and allowed Eduard to help me to my feet.
We hadn’t moved more than five feet before we saw the man leaning against Köhler’s black saloon car. He was unarmed, but the men flanking him weren’t.
‘Bloody hell,’ I whispered.
Chapter Forty-four
Senhora Verin,’ Adriano de Rios Vilar said. ‘You continue to surprise me, despite all my warnings.’
Exhausted, I let my hands drop to my sides. I was out of ammunition and out of the will to fight. Eduard wasn’t. He lunged in front of me, shielding me from the Portuguese PVDE officer and his men. Rios Vilar continued as if Eduard had remained at my side.
‘May I ask what happened here?’
Those large, beautiful eyes were as opaque as they were steady. Covered in blood and the soot from the still-burning warehouse, with the body of Köhler and his two goons behind us, there was little point in protesting my innocence.
‘If you’ve been there long enough, then you’ll know.’
Eduard bristled and my fingers tightened on the empty gun, still in my hand.
‘Stand back, Major Graf,’ Rios Vilar said.
Beside him, his men raised their weapons, pointing them at Eduard. Eduard’s shoulders tensed, but he stood back. Rios Vilar nodded, his attention still on my face.
‘Is he safe?’
‘Unless you plan on shooting him. Or me.’
‘That is not what I asked. Do not take me for a fool, senhora. Is the English diplomat safe?’
If he was going to kill me – kill us – in reprisal, at least it was for a good cause. I raised my chin.
‘Yes. Yes he is.’ My anger returned, overriding my better judgement. ‘No thanks to you and your men. Bloody line of neutrality and you allowed this, the kidnapping of a diplomat, to happen on your watch?’
A faint smile appeared that did not reach his eyes.
‘On my watch? What I witnessed was him being rescued by – forgive the presumption, Major Graf, but by people with his interests at heart. Thus saving us the embarrassment of his disappearance.’ He sighed and looked at the blaze. ‘Although you have left me a bit of a mess to clean up, senhora.’
‘A bit of a mess,’ I echoed.
‘You were not here,’ he said.
‘I what?’
My knees buckled and Eduard reached out to steady me.
‘You were not here, and this . . . this incident, will not be talked about. Am I clear?’
I wasn’t so certain, but nodded nonetheless.
‘Good.’ Rios Vilar waved at the Mercedes. ‘Now go, but understand that I will not clean up after you again.’
Waves of confusion battered my mind. Eduard’s hand was warm on mine as he tried to guide me away. I pulled away and turned back to Rios Vilar.
‘Why are you doing this?’
His lips pursed, and his head tilted to the side. He studied me for a few moments before the faint smile returned.
‘Because of my . . . how did you call it? Bloody line of neutrality, of course.’
He gestured to one of his men, who tossed a water bottle to me. My arms refused to work, and I watched its trajectory – watched it land at my feet. Stared at it because at that moment, struggling to comprehend Rios Vilar’s actions, I couldn’t think of what to do with it.
‘Clean yourself up and go, senhora. Before I change my mind.’
He gestured to his men and they moved towards the bodies of the Gestapo thugs.
I bent, and held the bottle in my hand. Eduard pried the PPK from my other hand and led me to the Mercedes.
Before I sat in the passenger seat, I turned to Graf.
‘Why? Why is he helping us?’
‘He isn’t helping us, Angel,’ Eduard said. ‘He’s helping Portugal. Things are changing. The war is changing. Salazar is no fool. He has allowed the Allies to use the Azores as a base, and this court case was another, perhaps more subtle show that he does not want to be seen on the losing side. It is the first time someone, agents of another government, are tried for espionage on Portuguese land. He could have dismissed the case, yet he did not. Harrington’s kidnapping would be an embarrassment he would not tolerate.’
‘Then why . . . ?’ I glanced back to where the PVDE men were dragging the corpses towards the warehouse.
‘Why did he not do something?’ Eduard’s laugh was mirthless. ‘Because we did the dirty work for him. But do not think it is over, and do not think that man is on your side. His masters are Portugal, Salazar, and his captain, Agostinho Lourenço. And I am not sure of the order.’
I looked back at the Portuguese men. Rios Vilar had stopped directing his men and stood, arms crossed, watching us. A thin finger of apprehension traced down my spine.
‘Come, Angel, before he changes his mind.’
He didn’t need to tell me twice.
Chapter Forty-five
The late afternoon sun glowed red as it sank towards the horizon. A red sun at night was supposed to indicate a sailor’s delight, but what did it mean for a spy? A midnight flight? The ocean was to my left and we were heading north, maybe north-west. Away from Estoril. Wherever Eduard was taking me – it wasn’t home.
What was north and west? There wasn’t
