“I’m an Untersturmführer in the Sicherheitsdienst, the Security Service.”
“And how does one address an Untersturmführer in the Sicherheitsdienst?” Evelyn asked with a twinkle.
“You may address me as Herr Untersturmführer,” he answered somewhat stiffly.
“Very well, Herr Untersturmführer. Would you be willing to give me a few words? The people of London would love to have a direct quote from someone of rank within the Third Reich.”
“I cannot. Many apologies.”
“I promise it will be delivered in a favorable light,” she coaxed. “As I said, I want to show the English people that there is nothing to fear from the Nazi party, or from Hitler himself.”
“What would they have to fear from us?” he demanded. “We are merely rebuilding our country from the ashes of the Versailles Treaty.”
“Exactly! And that is what I will say. May I quote you?”
“No, you may not.”
“Even if I do it as an anonymous source? As I am for Herr Gerst?”
Hans wavered. “Well, if it is truly anonymous, perhaps.”
“Agreed!”
He looked at her. “But you have no pad and pencil. You are not taking notes.”
Evelyn laughed. “Oh, I don’t need to do any of that. I have a fantastic memory. When I’m finished with my lunch, I will go to the library and write it all down, don’t worry.”
“Why go to the library? Why not write it now?”
“It’s the way I work, you see. I listen and absorb everything, then go away and write it all down. I’ll write most of the article right then, while it’s still fresh in my mind. I find libraries are the best places to write. The smell, the books, and of course, the quiet all allow me to do some of my best work.”
Hans stared at her for a moment.
“How many times have you met with Herr Gerst?” he asked, withdrawing a cigarette case from his pocket and offering her one.
Evelyn shook her head, declining the cigarette, and watched as he extracted one with long fingers. Her heart was pounding as she frantically tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t compromise either Karl or herself. She had no idea how many times Karl had crossed the border into France!
“To be completely honest, this is my first time,” she finally said when the silence had grown uncomfortably long.
Hans raised his eyebrow, lifting his eyes from his match to glance at her.
“I thought you said he had been supplying you with accounts for your articles?”
“Well, he has, but not in person.” Evelyn shot him a flustered look that she didn’t have to feign. “You see, he’s been meeting with another journalist who writes for the Daily Mail.”
He lifted the match to the end of his cigarette, never taking his eyes from her face. Once the cigarette was lit, he tossed the match into the street.
“I don’t see how that helps you with your articles.”
“This is rather embarrassing to try to explain,” she said, leaning forward. “You see, I found out about the idea from a typist over at the Daily Mail. The reporter that Herr Gerst has been meeting is putting together a string of articles to publish next month. His articles will paint the Nazis in a very different light. He will be presenting the idea that the German people are being oppressed.”
“What nonsense,” Hans snapped.
“Precisely! Which is why I’m writing a series of articles to come out at the same time and to present the true picture to my readers.”
“You stole this other reporters source?”
Evelyn managed a guilty look.
“I know some would say that it’s not quite ethical to do, but I don’t see anything wrong with it. You know, all’s fair and all that. Herr Gerst is telling me the exact same things he told the other writer. I’m simply presenting them as he states them to my readers, and the Daily Mail will be twisting and distorting it to fit their views.”
“And so you will be writing the truth while they will be printing lies,” he finished, blowing out a stream of smoke.
“That’s certainly the plan.”
“How did you find out Herr Gerst was his source?”
She swallowed. “I did what any reporter worth her salt would do: I followed him.”
A glint of amusement lit his eyes and, for the first time since she sat down, his face was softened by a smile.
“Did you indeed? All the way from London?”
“Goodness, no!” Evelyn laughed. “Even I am not that intrepid. I’ve been in France for the past two months. Last month, I covered the Tour de France. Afterwards, I stayed on to do some articles on Paris high society.”
“And now you write about foreign political and economic change,” he murmured. “I had no idea reporters in England had free reign to write on such a variety of topics.”
Evelyn felt a flush trying to creep up her cheeks. “My editor is very open-minded.”
“Tell me, how did you convince Herr Gerst to meet with you today and not this other journalist?”
“I told him the truth.” Evelyn glanced across the street to where Karl was smoking and staring down at his bread and cheese. “He was appalled when he realized how his stories would be used. Herr Gerst is a very loyal National Socialist.”
“Hm.” Hans made a noise that was non-committal. “And you? Why are you so eager to set the record straight and show the strides Germany has made under our Führer’s guidance?”
Evelyn opened her eyes very wide.
“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s inspiring what your country has been able to accomplish in such a short period of time. Why, your unemployment rate alone is outstanding. You went from thirty percent
