“Yes, it’s just past—Oh!”
The exclamation was ripped from her as her handbag flew out of her right hand.
“My apologies!” The man said as the bag hit the floor. The force of the impact proved no match for the delicate clasp and the bag popped open, spilling its contents all over the tiled floor.
“See? You’re not the only one!” The young man beside her said with a grin and a nod. “I told you! These floors are deadly.”
With a cheerful wave, he headed back into the stacks and Josephine turned to move into the closest aisle. As soon as she was out of sight, she peered around the corner, watching as the man and the woman bent to pick up the items from the handbag. While the woman reached for a lipstick and compact, the man picked up a small notebook and a white envelope. After looking at the open notebook a moment longer than necessary, he straightened up. As he did so, Josephine watched the envelope disappear into his coat pocket.
“Are you a writer?” he asked, closing the notebook and handing it to the woman as she stood up.
“Yes, I am,” she said, tucking the notebook into the bag along with the makeup. “I’m a journalist.”
“I thought you must be,” he said. “I can’t think why anyone else would carry a notebook and pencil with them.”
“Pencil!” The woman looked at the floor. “Where’s my pencil?”
“Here.” The man bent down and picked up a pencil that had rolled a few feet away. “I’m terribly sorry. I slipped. Do you have everything?”
The woman tucked the pencil into her bag and closed it, nodding.
“Yes, I think so.”
He nodded and turned away to head back towards the stairs in the center of the floor. Josephine watched as he walked towards her, his head down. He pulled the envelope from his coat pocket as he walked and she held her breath. The woman appeared in no hurry to follow him, walking slowly as if she was still looking for a book. The man opened the envelope, then stopped mid-stride. An ugly look crossed his face and Josephine inhaled involuntarily, her skin growing cold. Whatever was inside, he was not happy. And if a Gestapo agent wasn’t happy, it was never good news for the person on the receiving end.
Chapter Seven
Evelyn’s heart surged into her throat as the man stopped abruptly ahead of her, his head bent towards the envelope he’d pulled from his pocket. He’d been stealthy enough when he pocketed it, but she had been watching for it and saw him do it. She’d hoped he would wait until he was away from her before opening it and finding it empty. Now, he swung around and advanced towards her, an ugly look on his cold face.
“I was hoping to keep this civil,” he snarled in a low voice, “but now that seems impossible.”
“Pardon? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, casting an anxious glance around. The aisles on either side of them were deserted and his voice was low enough not to draw the attention of the other two patrons who had been there just moments before.
“Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
“What was in this envelope!” He brandished the empty envelope in one black-gloved hand.
Evelyn opened her eyes very wide and shrugged.
“How should I know?”
“It came from your bag!”
“Did it? I haven’t the faintest idea. I don’t remember. Probably theatre tickets, long gone.” Only a very slight tremor disturbed her voice as she met his arctic gaze.
The man reached out and grabbed her arm, his fingers digging painfully into her through the fabric of her jacket sleeve.
“As I said, I was hoping to keep this civil,” he said, looming over her and bringing his face closer to hers, “but you’re trying my patience. Where are the contents of this envelope?”
In an instant, a surge of anger dispelled the fear coursing through her and Evelyn’s eyes narrowed sharply.
“You’ve already gone beyond civil,” she told him coldly, “and so I feel completely justified to do the same.”
His mocking laugh was cut short abruptly when the arm he gripped suddenly moved, pulling him forward. A small fist drove under his chin, snapping his head back painfully. He released his hold on her and stumbled back, stunned. Before he could recover, or focus enough to see it coming, Evelyn kicked him swiftly inside his thigh at the apex, near his groin. His leg collapsed and he fell towards her as her elbow made contact with the side of his head. Spinning to the side, her hand sliced into the side of his neck, hitting the main pressure point located there as he went down.
Evelyn stepped back as he fell to the floor, his eyes closing. She lowered her hands from their neutral defensive positions in front of each other and, taking a deep breath, stepped over the prone figure on the floor. After a quick look around, she moved quickly towards the stairs.
Any second, one of the other patrons would emerge from the stacks to find him lying there, and she wanted to be far away when they did. There was no good explanation for why a man was suddenly unconscious on the floor and, while experience had taught her that most would never believe she was capable of bringing a grown man down, she instinctively realized that the less attention she brought to herself now, the better.
Without looking back, she walked swiftly towards the spiral staircase, her heart pounding in her chest. Of all the rotten luck! She thought she was being terribly clever when she put the envelope in her handbag as a diversion. She was convinced it would buy her time. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Chalk it up to a lesson learned.
