They turned the corner of the street where Asp’s house was located and Jens glanced at her in the darkness.
“In his message, he instructed me to go to the side door,” he said in a low voice.
“All right.”
“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” he said, repeating the same thing he’d said before they left Marcel’s. “You can still turn back.”
“Don’t be absurd. Of course I’ll come with you,” she said briskly. “There’s no reason in world why I shouldn’t.”
“It could be dangerous.”
Evelyn was silent, reflecting that it wouldn’t be the first dangerous situation she’d been in. But of course Jens had no way of being aware of that. She was hardly going to leave him to face a German double agent alone. This was the first time Jens had ever done anything like this, and his nerves showed. She couldn’t just leave him to get on with it.
“There it is,” he said suddenly, nodding to the next house. He looked down at her. “This is your last chance to back out.”
She tucked her hand through his arm. “Don’t be silly. I’m looking forward to it.”
“What? You can’t be serious!”
“But I am. This is all very exciting! I feel like I’m in one of the American spy films.”
Jens made a strangled noise and chuckled despite his apparent unease. He looked around the dark street and paused under the street lamp in front of Asp’s house.
“It feels strange to go to the side door,” he said, looking at the house before them. “Almost as if we’re sneaking around.”
“Perhaps that’s where everyone goes,” Evelyn suggested, looking up at him. “Some people don’t use their front doors regularly. If he’s one of them, it might arouse less suspicion from the neighbors to have everyone go to the side.”
He nodded and started down the narrow path that ran between Asp’s house and the neighbor. “That’s true.”
Evelyn was silent as she walked beside him, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to look over her shoulder. Someone was definitely watching them, she thought with a start. She didn’t know how she knew, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that they were. Every instinct she had was screaming a warning, but there was nothing she could do. She had committed to going with Jens into the lion’s den, and she wouldn’t back out now. They would go, deliver the false package, and leave as quickly as they could.
And then they would be on their way to Paris where they could disappear, at least temporarily, into the city crowds. She knew just how to talk, act, and to blend into just about any arrondissement she liked. Evelyn knew Paris just as well as she knew London, and she defied even the cleverest of SS officers to try to locate her once they crossed into the city of light. They just had to get there.
Halfway down the side of the house was the side door, painted a dark green that had seen its share of winters. Jens stopped before it and glanced at her. Then, taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked. Evelyn glanced down the narrow alley between this house and the next, looking towards the street, still unable to shake the feeling that someone had been watching them. There was no one in sight, and the night was quiet around them. Lights burned brightly in the windows of the house next to them, but there was no sign of anyone peering out the windows to see who was visiting late at night. All seemed well in the little town of Marle.
The door opened before them suddenly and Evelyn found herself looking at a man of average height who leaned towards the stocky end of the spectrum. He stood in the doorway, looking from on to the other, then wordlessly stepped back and opened the door wider, motioning them inside.
Taking a deep, silent breath, Evelyn followed Jens into the house.
Voss straightened up and threw his cigarette away when a couple turned the corner at the end of the street and started up the sidewalk. There had been others who had walked down the road only to proceed past Asp’s house, but something about these two was different. They seemed nervous, or at least the man did. He kept looking around as if he expected someone to jump out from behind the bushes and attack them. The woman, on the other hand, seemed completely unconcerned, her head held high and her stride light and even. It was definitely the man who was uncomfortable out of the two, Hans decided, watching them. He would be willing to bet that that was Eisenjager’s young Belgian. Who, then, was the woman? Someone who had fled from Brussels with him, more than likely. Perhaps a girlfriend.
He watched as they walked along the sidewalk, waiting to see if they stopped across the road or continued on. As he watched, the woman tucked her hand inside his arm and looked up at him. They were too far away from Hans to see, but he would bet that she was smiling. She was definitely not nervous or worried about anything. Perhaps he was mistaken and it wasn’t the Belgian after all. Perhaps they were just two lovers out for a walk.
Hans leaned against the side of the building again, his eyes never leaving the couple making their way down the street. It was getting late and he was getting tired. If someone didn’t show up soon, he was going
