Chapter Thirteen

Major Ramsey didn't get much more out of the man, and I suspected it was because the prisoner honestly didn't know any more than he had told us. He hadn't been a member of the original robbery gang but had been commissioned by them to locate a safecracker.

We'd got his name—Dugan—out of him, but other than that he'd insisted he had nothing else to tell. He was to bring the safecracker in question to Red's in two days' time, Tuesday evening, to meet with the group of thieves. That was a lead, though we were not as close to catching the thieves as I had hoped we might be.

It was perhaps an hour later when Ramsey, Uncle Mick, and I had made our way out of the cellar and into the chilly morning light.

"Pony continues to be as charming as ever," Uncle Mick said, breaking the silence.

"Whatever else might be said about him, he gets quick results," I replied.

"When did you come to see him?" Uncle Mick asked casually.

"Only yesterday evening."

Major Ramsey turned to me. "You came here to talk to him alone after you'd left me?"

I shrugged. "He's harmless enough."

Ramsey uttered a curse.

"I don't like it any better than you do, Major, but our Ellie's apt to do as she pleases," Uncle Mick said.

The major scowled at him. "How much has she told you?"

"Nothing. I just happened to answer the door when Pony's messenger came to the house this morning."

Ramsey nodded. "It looks as though we're going to need to bring you in on this, McDonnell."

"I take it I'm to be the yeggman."

Major Ramsey nodded. "If we can have you go with Dugan to Red's and make contact with the thieves. It would be ideal to have you in place there. Your reputation amongst this set of people will be invaluable."

"It's too dangerous," I said.

Both men turned to look at me. I realized the irony of my saying the words, but that didn't change them.

"It's not the first dangerous work I've done, lass." Uncle Mick's tone was gentle, but I caught the faint reprimand in the words.

Still, I couldn't help myself. I was afraid for him. "This isn't like one of our usual jobs, Uncle Mick. These men are spies… They're killers."

"I can handle myself, Ellie."

It was then Ramsey decided to make things worse. "Mr. McDonnell, why don't you see your niece home and then come to my office. We'll discuss things there."

I whirled to face him, my voice rising along with my temper. "Don't you dare be high-handed with me. I will not be put out of the way."

There was a moment of silence, both Uncle Mick and the major trying to decide how to deal with me, no doubt.

"Miss McDonnell…" Ramsey began. I wanted to scream in frustration. He always said "Miss McDonnell" in that odious way when he planned on reasoning with me.

"Ellie…" Uncle Mick said.

I was fairly steaming with anger by this point, but not so much that I didn't notice the major shoot Uncle Mick a speaking look.

"There's a tobacconist across the road there," Uncle Mick said suddenly. "I'll just go get a bit to fill my pipe. Won't be a moment."

And then he strode away across the road, leaving me alone with the major. I watched Uncle Mick's retreating form, my arms crossed, my teeth clenched in anger. Once again, I was being nicely pushed aside so the men could do the dangerous work.

"You know as well as I do that your uncle is the right man for this job," Major Ramsey said, as if in answer to my thoughts.

I didn't reply.

He took my arm and gently turned me to face him. "I am not putting you out of the way. But now is not the time for your interference."

My chin tipped up defiantly, and I glared up at him. "I should be in on the planning."

"And you will be. But at this stage, it's better if it's just your uncle and me. I'm asking you to trust us."

I let out an irritated breath. "It's not fair of you to put it that way."

"It's what it comes down to. Let us do what we need to do. And stay out of the way so we can do it."

I realized his hand was still on my arm, and somehow, despite my anger, I had shifted closer to him.

He realized it at the same moment I did. Our eyes caught. And then he dropped his hand.

"Tobacconist is closed. Have we decided on a plan?" Uncle Mick asked. I hadn't heard him walking up, but, admittedly, I'd been a bit distracted.

"You're going to see Miss McDonnell home and then meet me back at my office," Major Ramsey said.

"I can see myself home," I said shortly.

Perhaps it made sense for the two of them to plan without my worries distracting Uncle Mick, but I didn't like it, and I couldn't take my defeat graciously. Not yet.

Uncle Mick didn't argue. "Tell Nacy I may not be home for dinner."

I nodded. Then I turned and left them to concoct their schemes in peace.

I was still brooding that afternoon.

If I examined things dispassionately, I could understand where Ramsey was coming from. My protests and concerns for Uncle Mick's safety would not be useful to either of them. All the same, I didn't like to be left out. Especially when I was the one who had called this operation to the major's attention in the first place.

For Ramsey's part, maybe he wanted me out of it because he wanted to put distance between us. If things were growing serious again with Jocelyn Abbot, that made sense.

My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. I wished it was Felix, who would quickly cheer me up, but I was accustomed to his knock, and this one had a different quality to it.

I pulled open the door and was surprised to see my friend Julia Logan standing there. I hadn't seen Julia in… well, I couldn't remember when I'd seen her last, but it had been months.

"Julia!" I said. "How nice to see you."

"Hello, Ellie. It's been an age, hasn't it?" she said, a bit breathless, her dark brown eyes meeting mine for a moment before darting away. "I'm sorry to drop in on you like this, but I wondered if you had a moment to talk."

"Of course," I said, opening the door to invite her in.

Julia had grown up in the neighborhood with the boys and me, but she was more than a childhood friend. Until the war had started, we had spent rather a lot of time together. As it had done so many things, the war had changed our friendship. We had drifted apart, both of us consumed by our own worries and cares, though we still spoke warmly whenever we encountered each other.

Julia was a tall girl with glossy chestnut-colored hair and big brown eyes. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose, and there was usually a smile on her lips. Today, however, she looked tense.

"Shall I put the kettle on?" I asked as she took a seat at the end of the sofa.

"Oh, no. That's not necessary. I… I only wanted to speak to you for a few moments."

I wondered why she was so nervous. My instincts told me there was more to this visit than a chance to catch up.

I took a seat and waited for her to tell me why she had come.

"I… I was seeing a fellow for a while…"

"Brian," I said, remembering the young man she had gone with since we were teenagers. The two of them had always been inseparable. He had enlisted as soon as the war had started, and I had the uneasy feeling she was about to tell me he had died.

A flush creeped up her face, and she wouldn't look at me. I knew then that what she was going to say was not what I had first suspected.

"No. I… I was seeing someone else. Brian is still on the Continent."

"I see," I said. So she'd been two-timing Brian, had she? I didn't approve of such things, but I also wasn't one to judge. I'd found that few things in life were black or white. I'd had my own bit of trouble ironing out my feelings for two men, hadn't I?

"He told me that I was free to do as I pleased, that he wouldn't hold me to our relationship," she said in a rush. "I… went with another fellow for a while because I was so very lonely. You know how it is."

She looked at me pleadingly, and I gave her a nod, more to urge her to continue than to agree, though I could relate to the feeling of loneliness. I missed Felix a great deal when he was away.

"So I saw this other fellow for a bit," she went on. "But then I realized how much Brian means to me. How much I love him. We… well, I hope we're going to be married next time he comes home."

"I'm sure you'll be very happy," I said, still not sure why she had come to see me. We had shared personal confidences over the years, but I had the impression there was more to this visit than the need to relieve her conscience.

"That's just it," she said. "I'm afraid we won't be. I realized almost at once that I had made a terrible mistake with this other fellow. He didn't mean anything to me, and it didn't last very long. But I…" Her voice trailed off and the color crept up her face. "I wrote him some letters while we were seeing each other."

There was a moment of silence as I digested this information. I realized, of course, what she wasn't saying: there had been something compromising in those letters.

"When I broke it off with him, he was terribly angry," she went on. "He swore that he'd get even with me. I'm afraid he's going to show the letters to Brian."

I considered this for a moment. "Can't you make a clean breast of it to Brian?" I asked at last. "Explain what happened but that you truly love him and not this other man."

It was always easier to give advice from outside a situation, of course. My own life was much more complicated than it needed to be because of secrets I was keeping, because of truths that I was too afraid to speak out loud.

But I remembered Brian as a sweet boy who adored Julia. I was certain he would forgive her.

She shook her head. "No. I can't tell him. I just can't. He would forgive me, but it would break his heart. And I can't bear the thought of doing that. Not when he'll be going back to war with those memories. Those worries." Her eyes filled with tears, and I sympathized with her. It was a tricky situation she'd put herself in.

"What other option is there?" I asked, still a bit unsure of how I could help.

Then she looked up at me and made the matter clear. "I thought perhaps you could get the letters back," she said.

While my family had always kept most of our illegal activities a secret from those who weren't our associates, there was a faction of the community who knew what we were involved in. Julia's own family had often walked the line between the illegal and the legal. Her brothers had committed a few petty crimes with my cousins in their younger days.

So it wasn't really a surprise that she had come to me. She wouldn't have felt comfortable asking Uncle Mick, of course, but we had always been friends, and she knew I would want to help if I could.

"I didn't want to ask you," she said. "It's so embarrassing. I've been so stupid. But I have to do something. I don't want to hurt Brian." Her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears, but she managed to keep her composure.

I considered her problem. While I still thought honesty might be the best course of action, I could understand her wanting to keep this from her fiancé. If they were to be married before he went back to the war, it would only plague them both for him to know the truth. Julia had realized the error of her ways, so what was the use in making more trouble of what had happened?

Besides, I hated that this other man was threatening her just because she had decided that she no longer wanted to see him. What a cruel thing to do.

"Who is this man?" I asked.

She drew in a slow breath, as though steeling herself to speak about him. "His name is Peter Varney. He's a minor government official, a bit older than me."

"Do you know where he's keeping the letters?" I asked. After all, if I was going to retrieve them, it was first important to establish their location.

"I think they're probably in his flat," she said. She gave me an address in Knightsbridge.

"Are you sure he means to use them?" I asked. "Perhaps they are only empty threats."

She shook her head. "He means it. I can tell. He's not a nice sort of person. Only I didn't realize it until it was too late."

I felt sorry for her, but I was still hesitant to involve myself in her troubles. After all, she had made the choice to see the other man, to write him things that would have been better not put on paper.

"Julia," I began, "I'm not sure…"

"Uncle Frank said I should give you this," she said, fumbling in her handbag.

I froze. "Uncle Frank?" I repeated slowly, realization dawning.

She pulled out the book I had left with Frank Doyle. I hadn't known he was her uncle. In all the years we'd known each other, she'd never mentioned the reclusive mathematician. But I supposed we all held on to our secrets.

I took the book from her outstretched hand, though I didn't open it. Whatever he had discovered, I would look at it when I was alone.

"He said… he said that if I gave you that, you would be willing to help me."

I had made a bargain with him, after all. It was only fair for me to pay up.

Major Ramsey had forbidden us from participating in any illegal activities while we were working for him, but, then again, what Julia was asking me to do was not technically a crime. After all, the letters rightfully belonged to her; I would just be retrieving them.

She was looking at me with such desperation that I didn't have the heart to refuse her. She had been indiscreet, but that did not mean that her life should be ruined. If I could help her, I felt bound to do so. And then I would be able to scratch out my debt to Frank Doyle.

"All right," I said. "Yes. I'll do it if I can."

"Oh, Ellie! Thank you!" She embraced me, and I pushed aside my doubts. Julia might have made a poor choice in seeing someone else while Brian was off fighting, but that didn't give this Mr. Varney the right to threaten her and try to ruin her life. It was ungentlemanly, and he should be stopped.

She left shortly afterward, and I went to put the kettle on, wondering if I'd just made a sound decision or a big mistake.

My cup of tea prepared, I took a seat on the sofa and picked up the book Julia had brought with her. I could see the folded piece of paper with the message on it sticking slightly out of the top of the book.

Mr. Doyle had certainly made quick work of solving the puzzle. I was half afraid to open it, and I found myself wishing that Felix were here.

But there was no waiting, of course. I needed to know what it said.

I had been able to make no sense of the letters written on the page, but Mr. Doyle had neatly decoded the message. The words were written in surprisingly tidy letters, and I read them over three times before I allowed myself to try to interpret what they meant:

Be careful. I believe that you may have been discovered. This could mean danger to you and to your family. I suggest you take cover at once. Hand off your information to Chambers. The flowers are dying.