Henry moved out of the closet, closing the door again quietly and going swiftly back towards the drawing room. Well that tore it. He couldn’t search the house now, not with a man from the Secret Service lurking about. He’d have to leave it for now. It was a high enough risk having the butler see him, but to have a member of the intelligence community see him would be suicidal. This was no time to be bold. It was time to leave, and quickly.
As he crossed the drawing room at a near run, Henry marveled at the sudden turn of events. So MI6 was aware of the package. Interesting. And they were watching the house? Even more interesting. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they had the package already and were baiting a trap for whoever came looking for it. But he did know better, and there was no possibility of a man of Bill Buckley’s limited intelligence thinking so offensively. It would never occur to him to set a trap. If he had a man installed in Ainsworth Manor, it could be for only one reason.
They didn’t have the documents either.
That it was Bill who had installed the man in the household was never a question in his mind. He recognized him as one of Bills earlier recruits. The man had been with the Secret Service for some years now, and he was especially good at undercover work. It was no wonder Bill would have sent him. He would impersonate a servant to perfection, and would report back if anything remotely matching the description of a mysterious package was ever found. He would also report back if anyone came looking for the package...anyone like himself. But that was as far as it would go. He would report back, and Bill would tell him to hold his position. He was too cautious, old Bill. Always had been.
So were all the chief officers in the Secret Service. They were a bunch of old women, following outdated principles and turning a blind eye to progress and innovation. They were a good part of the reason that England would lose this war. Of that, Henry was confident.
He slipped back out the drawing room door onto the terrace, being sure to leave the door exactly as the MI6 man had left it. If he came back this way, Henry didn’t want him to know that his quarry had ever gone through the door again. Perhaps he would think the door had been left open by someone in the house. If he did, that would be best. But Henry was a prosaic man and wasn’t holding out hope. If he could get away without the man seeing him, he would call that a win. After all, if he didn’t have a description to give Bill, there was nothing that could be done.
A moment later, he was running across the lawn towards the trees, leaving Ainsworth Manor behind. His mission had been a bust as far as the search, but he’d learned something even more important. And it just might be enough to keep his handler quiet.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Evelyn stepped outside and took a deep breath. The air was damp and chilly, and she would rather go back to the roaring fire, but the lone figure sitting on the fence staring into the trees made her button her coat and start across the small garden behind the kitchen. As she drew closer, Jens turned his head and watched her.
“I thought you were going for a walk?” she asked, joining him.
“I was going to, but all I really wanted was some fresh air, so I decided to sit here instead.”
“It was getting rather stuffy in there, wasn’t it?” Evelyn leaned against the fence and looked out into the trees. “Are you all right?”
“Yes of course. I just wanted to think.”
“About the predicament we find ourselves in?”
“About everything. Don’t you feel...overwhelmed by it all?” He turned to look down at her. “I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare. The more we run, the closer they get.”
“It is disconcerting how quickly they’re moving,” she admitted. “It makes it difficult to know what to do next.”
Jens let out a short laugh. “You make it sound so ordinary, as if you’re discussing a mild inconvenience.”
A teasing grin came to her lips. “Well, it is an inconvenience! I would have been comfortably back in Paris by now if Hitler hadn’t decided to walk into Belgium.”
“I suppose when you put it that way...”
“Well how else will I put it? I’m certainly not going to pitch a fit because my travel plans have been extended and expanded to include some unscheduled stops, not when hundreds of people are losing their homes and lives as we speak.”
Jens sighed. “I suppose I deserved that,” he murmured. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be bemoaning our predicament, but should be thankful that it’s not much worse.”
They were quiet for a moment, listening to the night, then Evelyn glanced up at him,
“Why are you so interested in Marle?” she asked.
Jens looked at her, startled. “Pardon?”
“Marle. Why are you so interested in it?”
“I’m not! I told you. I knew someone who lived there once, that’s all.” Jens looked flustered and he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “It’s nothing.”
“I don’t believe that. I think it’s something, and I think it’s something that’s been there in the background ever since we left Brussels.”
“What—what do you mean?” he stammered.
“Why are you here, Jens?” she answered with her own blunt question, turning sideways to face him. “Really?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“It’s no use playing the fool, Jens. I
