“He’s dead.” Jens sounded calmer now, even if his voice wasn’t quite steady. “What do we do?”
“What do you mean? How should I know?”
“Well I’ve never killed a man before!” Jens exclaimed. “I’ve never even seen a dead body before!”
“Neither have I!” she shot back, her voice sounding high pitched even to her own ears.
They were both silent for a moment, then she exhaled loudly, still refusing to turn and look.
“What can we do?” she asked, trying to think. “It’s not as if we can bring him back to life. We’ll have to leave and pretend that nothing happened.”
“But there’s a dead body! And blood!” Panic was edging back into his voice and Evelyn nodded.
“All right, all right,” she said soothingly. “Let me think.”
“Aren’t you going to turn around?” Jens asked after a second.
“Not until you cover him up.”
Jens hesitated, then sighed. “I suppose I can understand that,” he said. “What can I use? I don’t want to use my coat.”
“No! We can’t leave anything behind!” Evelyn looked around, careful not to look in the direction of the fireplace. “There! Use that blanket on the back of the couch.”
Jens crossed the room to pick up a woolen blanket from where it was draped over the back of the couch. As he passed her, he looked into her face and paused.
“It’s all right,” he said, trying to reassure her. “I’ll cover him up.”
Evelyn nodded, realized that she was shaking, and wrapped her arms around herself to try to stop the trembling. A moment later, Jens cleared his throat.
“It’s safe now.”
Evelyn slowly turned around. Jens had covered the body with the blanket, but blood was spreading in a pool out from under it. With a shudder, she looked away and her eyes fell onto the rug before the window. She stared at it for a minute, and then her trembling stopped and numbness stole through her. She suddenly knew what they had to do.
She went over to the rug swiftly and tossed it out of the way, opening the hidden compartment in the floor. She looked up to find Jens watching her speechlessly.
“Toss me that bag hanging by the door,” she commanded, pointing to a dark canvas shoulder bag.
Jens looked to where she was pointing and went over to get the bag. He brought it back to her with a bemused look on his face.
“What are you doing?”
“We can’t leave all this here,” she said, pulling out the leather roll Jens had given Asp. Beneath it were two packets of papers tied with string, and several stacks of money. “We’re taking it with us.”
“There must be twenty thousand francs there!” Jens gasped, staring at the stacks of bills. “We can’t take that!”
“It’s money he got from selling out his countrymen,” Evelyn said coldly. “We can, and we will. We’ll give it to people who can use it.”
“I could use it,” Jens muttered. “I only brought what I had in cash in my apartment.”
She looked at him and nodded. “Then you will have it,” she said. “But we’re certainly not leaving it here for the Germans to take.”
She finished cleaning out the hidden compartment and put the floor board back before replacing the rug. Jens watched her and took the bag she handed him as she passed on her way to a desk on the far wall.
“You are that woman who took the stolen plans from Antwerp, aren’t you?” he asked, watching as she began to open the desk drawers, going through them. “You’re the courier.
Evelyn glanced over her shoulder. “I’m not a courier.”
“Then who are you?” Jens walked over to stand beside the desk. “What are you?”
She paused and looked up at him, then sighed and straightened up.
“Everything Asp said was true,” she admitted. “I did meet with a Dutch agent in Antwerp and he did give me a package. I work for the British Secret Service, MI6. I’m an agent. I was sent to Belgium to retrieve the package and take it back to London.”
Jens swallowed and nodded slowly.
“I suppose I should have realized you weren’t a secretary when we ran into Josephine. That’s how you two know each other?”
“We met in Strasbourg just before the war. I was a courier then. She helped me escape from an SS officer.” Evelyn turned back to the desk and continued going through the drawers quickly. “It seems we both kept a secret from each other.”
Jens watched her, still clearly trying to process everything that had happened in the past half hour.
“Do you think Asp was telling the truth about the SS coming after you?” he asked suddenly.
“Yes.” She glanced up at him. “Marcel told me before we left his house. Josephine told him who I was in the letter she wrote, and he warned me that an SS agent was looking for a woman who had been in Antwerp to pick up a package.”
Jens stared. “And you came here tonight with me, knowing that Asp was in league with the Germans, and knowing that he might lead them to you?”
“Well, I came knowing that there was a risk,” she replied. “I didn’t think it would play out quite the way it did, I’ll admit, but yes.”
“That’s my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t slipped and said Marie, he would never have known.” Jens ran his hand through his hair and looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry.”
Evelyn nodded and finished going through the last drawer.
“It’s over now. We’ll consider it a lesson learned.” She straightened up. “There’s nothing else here. Let’s go. We need to get moving.”
“What about him?” Jens asked, looking towards the fireplace. “We’re just going to leave him there?”
Evelyn hesitated, blanching, then nodded, turning towards the door.
“We can’t call a doctor; it wouldn’t do any good. And we certainly can’t call the police.”
“It doesn’t seem right, somehow.”
She paused and glanced back at the body covered with the blanket, a wave of horror going over her.
“I know,” she agreed