It was a billiards room, and the walls were done in a burgundy silk and the curtains were a brocade a shade darker. I met Graham’s gaze immediately, but I couldn’t read anything there, so I moved to the others. Esther was there, along with George, John Armstrong, and Auguste Dubois. No one was smiling.
John Armstrong was a young British man only a few years older than me. He had a smooth baby face and dark puppy dog eyes that made me want to pat him on the head. He never said much, and almost always had his hands in his pockets.
Auguste Dubois looked dangerous. It was the only way to describe him, and I found myself studying his face when he wasn’t looking. He was a man of mystery—a Frenchman—short and stocky in his three-piece suit. His hair was dark and his skin swarthy. He was seasoned at the game, that much was obvious, and he seemed impatient to be here. I had a feeling he was busy enough with his own missions, and didn’t appreciate getting pulled into ours.
“What’s happened?” I asked.
“Wagner had the staff at each of the Gestapo headquarters executed this morning after he received the news of the raid at Vitrolles,” Graham said. “Maids, kitchen staff, drivers…most were innocent. We lost seven agents we had working undercover as staff.”
I felt my mouth go dry, thinking of Esther’s comment about how Wagner had a habit of shooting the messenger when he got bad news, and apparently, everything in his path.
“He suspects someone who had daily contact with them overheard the location of the new internment camp once Les Milles shut down,” George said. “The most obvious choice was the staff.”
“He’s laid their bodies along the avenue as an example,” Graham said. “His orders are to let them rot there, and to let the people see what happens to those who betray them.”
“And then he sent me two dozen roses and requested I accompany him on a scenic drive,” I said, understanding the urgency of this impromptu meeting.
“He’s a psychopath,” Esther said, her beautiful face rigid with anger and grief. She turned to her husband. “It is too dangerous to send her on this mission. Wagner will start looking for others who have come across his path, who could’ve shared secrets, and their fates will be like our friends whose blood runs in the streets.”
“Settle, my dear,” George said, putting his hand on her shoulder gently. It was the first time I’d ever seen him show affection to her, and it was odd, but her body relaxed beneath his touch.
“It is this very reason why I believe Miss Holmes must go through with this charade,” he said.
“Can she pull it off?” Auguste Dubois asked, his gaze inspecting me like a horse at auction.
“She can,” Graham said confidently. “And at this point, Wagner would be more suspicious if she cancelled their appointment than if she goes through with it.” His gaze bored into mine and I felt the tingles down my spine. “I assume you’re suitably armed in case something goes wrong?”
“On both accounts,” I assured him, referring to my knife and the small white pill in my locket.
He nodded, satisfied, and I guessed that was good enough for the others.
“You have a new mission,” George said. “You must get him to take you back to his rooms at some point very soon. We feel after his actions today that the Cordiers have very little time left before they become his next example. One of our last bits of intelligence from Lise before she was killed was that both sets of twins and their father are still alive. Jean Cordier has sensitive information, and all we can do is pray they haven’t tortured it from him yet.”
“Jean wouldn’t betray the Alliance,” Auguste said. “He’d die first.”
George nodded in agreement, and his stare was intense. “You must be a distraction for Wagner. You must keep him occupied through the night, and it must be within the next two nights. Dr. Meissner took the train to Lambsec as a precaution to make sure there wouldn’t be a raid there as well to release prisoners, but we expect him back before the end of the week. Things are chaotic and scattered right now. It’s the perfect time to move. To keep Wagner off guard, and to undermine his authority and everything he’s trying to build in Marseille. We can take this city back.”
“I understand,” I said, and my gaze met Graham’s. “I need to be going. The car will be here to pick me up soon.”
“I’ll escort you back,” Graham said, taking my arm and leading me back through the secret passageway through the fireplace.
We moved in silence, but I relished the time together with his hand in mine. We hadn’t spent any time together outside of formal briefings or my bedroom. I didn’t know anything about him, not even where he was staying in Marseille.
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” he said when we arrived at the back of the bookcase that led to the Smithers’ home.
“Always am,” I said cheekily.
He took my arm and pulled me toward him, and his face was in shadow. “I mean it,” he whispered. “He’s insane and volatile. He’s just murdered dozens of people in cold blood. People he had no proof betrayed him. They were just possibilities, as are you. He’s eliminating loose ends. You are too important to be glib about your safety.”
“I’m not naïve enough to think that the Alliance can’t replace me if anything should happen.”
“I can’t replace you,” he said. “To hell with the Alliance.”
I was speechless for a moment, and then I nodded, hoping I understood what he was saying between the lines.
“I’ll be careful,” I promised.
“If
