I didn’t know how to put into words what I was feeling. This was a job. This wasn’t real life. We were all living lies to the point that the truth was becoming more and more difficult to decipher.
“Ah,” Graham said, taking my hand. “You’re thinking when your mission is complete that you’ll be displaced.”
“It’s not like I can keep peddling makeup after today,” I said. “At least, not unless I want a bullet in my head.”
“That would be a travesty,” he said. “Your brain is one of my favorite things about you.”
Heat rushed to my face.
“You’re not comfortable with compliments,” he said. “I wonder why.”
“Of course I am,” I said, hating that he saw through me that easily.
“You’re comfortable with compliments about your looks. I bet you get told you’re beautiful a hundred times a day. And you are. You’re probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But I’ve watched you, and I’ve heard George sing your praises for weeks. You not only have a photographic memory, but you’ve been able to dictate conversations you’ve had and overheard in their entirety. You’ve picked up languages and learned skills it sometimes takes new trainees months to a year to learn.”
It was a challenge to keep from squirming in my seat at his assessment of me, and I wondered if he was doing it on purpose just to see if he could make me squirm.
“What are you getting at?” I asked.
“I’m saying that after this mission is done, you’re going to have your pick of what’s next. And if America ever decides to join this fight, I predict there’s going to be an interesting negotiation over your services between MI6 and the OSS.”
“And what about you?” I asked, pretending I was braver than I was. I didn’t really want to hear his answer, but I had to ask. “Where will you be?”
“I’ll be like you,” he said. “Wherever they send me. Which according to the letter I received yesterday is Belgium. I’ll take the command position at the new Alliance headquarters there. And you’ll start a new cover under my command. If you’d like to accept the job.”
I arched a brow and my mouth tilted up at the corner. “And what about during the night?”
He picked up my hand and brought it to his mouth, his eyes telling me everything I wanted to know. “During the night, you get to be in charge.”
“Then it looks like we’re going to Belgium.”
Chapter 6
An hour later I was at Number 1 Dorset Square, standing over the blueprints of the Schwartz house.
George and Esther were with me, along with Graham, Auguste, and John Armstrong. The team was small, but they insisted it was all the manpower that was needed to take their headquarters and free the Cordiers.
“Wagner made it a point to tell me that only two of his officers would be on site,” I said. “And that they’d be contained to the first floor so we’d have complete privacy.”
“The first floor has the large entry area you’ve seen before,” George said. “There’s a front parlor…”
“That’s completely empty,” Graham said. “I had a good view in there after Scarlet ran me down.”
“I still don’t know how you ended up in front of my car,” I said.
“That’s easy,” Graham said. “Because you’re a terrible driver.”
“Moving on,” George said. “The kitchen is also on the first floor and takes up almost the entire back half. There’s a front stairway…”
“Which is the one I’ve taken each week to meet Helene and the other women on the fourth floor.”
“But there’s also a secondary staircase in the back leading up from the kitchen,” George finished. “I’ve got a rough sketch diagram from what information Lise was able to give me.”
“You’d think she’d have been able to pinpoint the Cordiers’ location inside the house,” I said. “Servants observe and know everything.”
“That’s the thing,” Graham said. “There was a basic skeleton crew of domestic staff. Lise, another girl, and a cook. None of them were live-ins. And they were all given strict instructions on what they could and could not do, and where they could and could not go. The second floor was completely off limits, but so were the servant stairs. We have good intel on all of the other areas.”
“Dr. Meissner allowed people into his personal space?” I asked, surprised, remembering Meissner was on the third floor.
“Yes,” Graham said. “Meissner is known for having some interesting quirks along with just being insane.”
“As if that isn’t enough,” I said.
“He’s very particular about his living and work spaces,” George said. “He has an aversion to anything dirty. He’s been known to wash his hands to the point his skin gets raw.”
“Considering some of the horrible things he does with those hands, I’m not surprised,” I said.
“He’s just as particular about his rooms,” Graham said. “No dust, no papers out of order, no empty coffee cups, and no smudges. He insists that bleach be used to wipe down all the surfaces in the areas he occupies.
“I feel like I need to be worried about what I’m going to be walking into tonight if Wagner hasn’t had his rooms cleaned in weeks. It’s hard to be seductive with dirty underpants on the floor and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling.”
Graham coughed to cover a laugh, though his eyes were sparkling. “I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it work. Besides, I was up there a few days ago and everything looked clean and in its place. And there were no underpants on the floor.”
“Good to know,” I said. “I’m assuming you got a good look at what I’m about to walk into?”
“He’s got the whole second floor to himself,” Graham said. “It must have been the floor where the children and their nanny stayed, because it’s a large open space and the wallpaper is softer in color. But everything
