Chapter Four

I went with Uncle Mick on a locksmithing job the next morning, after I'd been sure to eat every bite of the breakfast Nacy had served.

My mind had been churning over the possibilities of what I'd discovered in the mythology book. Not that I'd had much chance to study it. The Germans had come back again at twilight, and we'd been forced to spend the night in the cellar.

Luckily, the locksmithing job today provided ample distraction for my tumultuous thoughts. We opened three safes that a gentleman had inherited in the dusty cellar of an old apothecary shop he had purchased. There was nothing of too much interest in them, but the opening of the safes was diverting enough. Besides, the contents didn't really matter when we weren't sneaking home with them.

Uncle Mick did the bulk of the work. He was so adept at opening safes that he didn't require a pencil and paper to graph the points as I did. The math just clicked together in his head. I had always marveled at this innate skill, at the talent for numbers that he had been born with. Watching Uncle Mick work was like watching a virtuoso play a concerto.

I had trained long and hard to be able to open safes. It was the difference between someone who could read music well and someone who felt that music in their bones.

For me, there was the satisfaction of solving a complex problem. It was nice to have a job to do, and I knew that the money would be useful as well. We hadn't exactly been flush with cash lately. The government had paid us for the work we had done, but that meant the recent lack of official business had put a strain on things financially.

I had worried more than once in the past months that we would run out of work and be forced to resort to thievery once again. I had surprised myself by thinking of it in terms of an unwanted necessity. Not long ago, I would have relished the thought of planning a job, would have thought nothing of taking what we found to supplement our income. Now it felt as though my view of the world and my place in it had shifted drastically.

Sometimes I wondered what I would do when the war was over. The future lay stretched before me, so blurry and indistinct I sometimes got vertigo looking at it.

"Are you all right, Ellie girl?" Uncle Mick asked me as we walked home from the Tube station.

"Of course. Why do you ask?" Just like Nacy, Uncle Mick knew me so well it was difficult to hide things from him. Unlike Nacy, he wasn't one to press, but he was always there if I needed a shoulder to lean on. That's what made it so difficult that I had to keep what I had learned about my father from him.

I knew how Uncle Mick felt about this adopted homeland. I knew how he would feel if he learned his brother had been spying for the Germans. He couldn't find out. I would do everything in my power to make sure he didn't.

"You've been quiet lately. It's not like you."

"No, I suppose it's not," I said with a smile. "I've just had a lot on my mind."

"With what happened in Sunderland?"

I hadn't been able to tell him the full scope of our work there, but he knew that things had got thorny and that Major Ramsey had been injured. I had come home shaken from the experience—and from what I had learned about my father. And I had been unable to discuss any of it. In so many ways, war was putting up walls that hadn't been there in peacetime.

"Yes, in part," I said. "I'm still working a lot of things out."

He put his arm around my shoulders and gave me a little squeeze. "Well, you're more than capable of that, love. But don't forget that I'm here if you need me."

"Thank you, Uncle Mick."

When we got back to the house, Nacy beamed at me. "You've had a message," she said. "From Major Ramsey."

Nacy adored Major Ramsey. Granted, he had been more than usually charming with her. He was not, as a general rule, the sort of man I would consider charming, but he could turn it on when it suited him, and he had always been unfailingly courteous to Nacy. As a result, she was ready to plan my wedding to him at a moment's notice. My telling her she would be waiting in vain had no effect whatsoever.

Despite myself, I felt a jolt of excitement at her words; I had been so sure from his manner that he planned to go on avoiding me. What had caused him to change his mind?

I tried not to appear too interested as I asked, "Oh? What did he say?"

"He asked if you would come back to his office this afternoon." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "You didn't tell us you had been to see him."

"I went to return that ring to him," I said. I had never been able to lie convincingly to Nacy, but half-truths sometimes did the trick.

"Well, it seems the visit made him realize how much he missed you. He wants to see you again."

I gave her a skeptical look, but my heart rate had increased. What was it that he wanted to see me about?

I looked over at Uncle Mick. "Can you do without me for the rest of the afternoon?"

He grinned. "If the major wants you, who am I to say no?"

I took the Tube to Sloane Square, my mind turning over the possible reasons the major had asked me to return to his office.

It was nothing of a personal nature, that much was certain. He'd rarely been more formal with me than he had been yesterday. Any sense of camaraderie that we'd built up over the earlier part of our Sunderland mission had been obliterated by that stupid kiss, and we were back to where we'd started when the major had first recruited me: cool civility and strict officialness.

I sighed. This was all a waste of reflection. A distraction from what really mattered. It was why the major had said that we could not be involved romantically. Because it was a breach of protocol and would no doubt prove a detriment to any sort of work we could do together. And if there was any choice to be made between his personal inclinations and his duty to his country, there was no doubt whatsoever which Major Ramsey would choose.

As for myself, I thought there could possibly be room for both duty and personal inclination, but the point stood. We had agreed that nothing else would happen, and that was that. I didn't have Nacy's unerring sense of romanticism.

Constance let me in again, taking my coat immediately this time with brisk efficiency. "He's waiting for you," she said. Constance had a knack for conveying the major's frame of mind without saying anything, and I sensed from her tone that he was in one of his more snappish moods.

I walked back down the hallway and found that the door to his office was open. He was indeed waiting for me, then.

"Good afternoon, Miss McDonnell," he said, beckoning me into the room in a gesture that veered more toward impatience than politeness.

"Good afternoon."

"Thank you for coming back again at such short notice."

It never ceased to amaze me how he could maintain this level of formality after all we'd been through together. After the way he'd kissed me senseless.

"You're quite welcome," I replied in the same punctilious tone. His gaze caught mine for just a second; he'd discerned that I was being facetious. He decided to ignore it.

He motioned for me to take a seat, and then he sat. It appeared he was in no mood to dally with false pleasantries.

"Your instincts have proved good once again, Miss McDonnell."

Then this was about the robbery I had brought to his attention. I felt a surge of excitement I was careful to suppress. I had learned it was best not to appear too enthusiastic about anything thievery-related in the major's presence.

"I asked around yesterday about the article you showed me," he said. "And it seems there is more to it than meets the eye."

A dozen questions immediately sprang to mind, but I waited for him to tell me more.

"You're sure you don't know anything about this?" His eyes fastened on me, and I realized he was wondering if I had deceived him yesterday.

"No," I said, meeting his gaze steadily. "I don't know anything about it. I only thought something in it seemed… odd."

"You don't know who might have done it? Anyone who works this way?"

I shook my head. "That's another thing that struck me. We don't know every thief in London, of course, but Uncle Mick usually hears a thing or two about the bigger jobs. Especially jobs like this. You might not hear about it when it was being planned, but you'd hear things about the valuables they were trying to sell, who was thinking of buying. These things get around. People brag, especially about big scores. The criminal world is its own community, in a way. So the very fact we've heard nothing is unusual."

He considered what I'd told him. Then he nodded. "That fits in with what we're thinking."

He opened his desk drawer and took out a sheet of paper. I watched him as he did so and found that he didn't look particularly well rested. He had always given the appearance of being indefatigable, but now he looked tired. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he'd got any sleep since I'd been here yesterday, but I knew he would not appreciate it.

At least I knew his sister was here; I was sure he would be more receptive to her scolding than to mine.

He looked up at me from the sheet of paper in his hand. "In the past two weeks, there have been three robberies reported in London at the residences of politically influential individuals."

"Three?" This was a surprise. "Were the others in the paper as well?"

Had I missed them? Uncle Mick read the paper from front to back, so I knew he would have seen them and likely mentioned them to me when we discussed the article.

"No," Major Ramsey said. "Only the one you noticed was in the paper. Two of the robberies were kept out of the papers deliberately. The third was the one you brought to my attention. Let me lay out the details for you."

I nodded, the familiar focus that came during jobs settling over me. I realized how much I had missed this feeling, missed the sensation of being involved in important work that required concentration and skill.

"The first robbery was ten days ago at the Savoy. Miguel Perez, a Spanish diplomat, reported to the police that several items were stolen from his hotel room." He glanced at the paper in his hand. "A gold cigarette case, a diamond tiepin, and things of that nature. I have a complete list of the items reported stolen that I will show you in a moment. Perez was here on diplomatic business but was sharing the hotel room with a female companion who was not his wife. He was anxious the matter be handled quietly, and the hotel was as anxious to hush it up as he was."

I nodded my comprehension of the facts, and he continued.

"The second was Germaine Arnaud, a Frenchwoman who worked in the Paris government before she was forced to flee as the Germans approached. She was allegedly in possession of some jewelry that had belonged to several high-placed persons and brought it with her for safekeeping."

"And it was stolen?"

"Some of it was stolen. A week ago. She was visiting a friend until quite late and arrived back at her hotel to find her room had been broken into. There was a small jewelry box in one of her drawers that was taken, but she had secreted the bulk of it beneath her mattress, and the thieves did not find it."

I frowned. Any thief worth his salt knew to look beneath a mattress.

"She rang the police when she discovered the jewelry box missing, but asked that the matter be kept quiet," he said. "She is hoping that the jewelry can be recovered before its absence is a matter of public knowledge."

"She doesn't want the owners to know it's gone unless it's necessary," I said.

"Presumably."

"What about the robbery in the article?" I asked. "Are those facts correct?"

"Relatively so, it seems. Lazaro was hosting a dinner party when three masked intruders entered the house. One of them took the valuables of the guests, one of them held the staff at gunpoint, and one of them searched the house. A few other valuables were taken: Lazaro mentioned a gold cigarette lighter, some silver, and a valuable vase."

"A vase?" I repeated. What an odd thing to grab when one was taking jewelry from dinner party guests.

"So he says. This matter, too, would likely have been hushed up, but it happens that one of the guests mentioned it to the wrong person and it ended up in the newspaper."

I shrugged. "It's not so very bad for it to be in the newspaper, is it? It's not as though Mr. Lazaro did anything wrong."

He said nothing to this.

"Can you be sure that all of these crimes were committed by the same person or persons?" I asked at last. "After all, the methods are very different. Usually a thief prefers either stealth or an armed robbery, but it's rare that someone uses both. It's odd that they would have snuck into an empty hotel room on two occasions and then came in with guns at a dinner party on another."

He nodded. "That's what the police thought, too. It appeared it was just a rash of unfortunate robberies. But then we looked a bit closer."

I looked up at him, knowing a reveal was coming. Major Ramsey was the most phlegmatic person I knew, but he did enjoy a bit of the dramatic on occasion.

He set the sheet of paper on the desk and pushed it across toward me. "This is the full list of the items that were reported stolen from the three robberies. What do you make of it?"

I ran my eyes over the list. It was as he had said. There were the usual things, the things one would expect a thief to take: necklaces, pocket watches, cuff links. Then there were a few things that struck me as strange. The vase, of course. There was also a porcelain figurine that was part of the Savoy's décor and a decorative cigar box that belonged to Miguel Perez.

Without a comprehensive list of what had been in each of the locations, I couldn't tell if anything important had been overlooked by the thieves. But something struck me as unusual about the list of items that had been taken.

"It's all very haphazard. It's almost as if…" The idea clicked suddenly into place, and I looked up at the major. "As if the robbery wasn't the main goal—as if someone was looking for something in particular."

His eyes took on that approving glint they sometimes got when my guesses were correct.

"A quick check told me these people have one thing in common," he said. "Each of them was on the same flight from Lisbon a fortnight ago."

My brows went up. "And you think one of them brought something back with them. Something that someone else wants."

He nodded. "Yes, I'm quite sure that has been the motive behind these robberies. While valuables have been taken, it is my impression that the stolen items are somewhat random in nature."

I considered what he was telling me. It was obvious from the list of stolen items that these were not, in fact, professional thieves. Or, at least, not professional the way my family and I were. These people were looking for something, not burglars out to take the most valuable items they could get. That meant that Major Ramsey was very likely correct in his assumption that they were committing robberies with a specific goal in mind.

"It would be difficult, I suppose, to determine what they're after just by looking at this small list of items, and the people from whom they've stolen them," I said. "Do you have any more information you could share with me?"

"I don't really have any information at present, Miss McDonnell," he said, and I sensed he was telling me the truth. There was the slightest note of weariness in his voice that I had never heard there before. "All I know is that something is clearly going on here, and, given the connection with Lisbon and the rampant espionage activities there, it is probably in our best interest to figure out what it is."

"Does this mean you are offering me this job?" My heart thudded heavily as I awaited his answer.

His response was noncommittal. In fact, his entire reaction was less enthusiastic than I would have hoped.

"I don't even know what this job might entail as of yet," he said. "But I think that your intuition is good, and you were clearly onto something when this came to your attention. I'm of the opinion it's something we should pursue. I've spoken to my superior, Colonel Radburn, and he agrees. He told me I should make use of your expertise."

Ah. It had been an order, then. I kept my expression neutral, determined not to show the silly way this knowledge stung.

I offered him a polite smile. "Colonel Radburn has good sense, it seems."

His eyes met mine, and I could feel everything we were leaving unsaid hanging in the air between us. Did he think I might be worried he would pursue a physical relationship? Or did he think I might throw myself at him? Perhaps he just thought the past would affect how we worked together.

Whatever the case, orders were orders, and Major Ramsey was nothing if not a rule-follower.

He gave a brisk nod. "Then, yes. I am offering you a job. At the very least, we can look into these robberies and rule out the espionage angle."

I smiled, a bit more genuinely this time. "Excellent. So what's the plan?"

"The plan," he said, his eyes on mine, "is to try to determine where, assuming these thieves are after something in particular, they might strike next and prevent it. Or catch them in the act, if possible. To do that, we need to discover what it is they're looking for and why it's so important they get it back."

I nodded. The fact that they were going to such lengths to retrieve whatever it was indicated we didn't want them to have it. But we were working with such a vague idea of what our nemeses' motives might be. It was going to be an uphill battle.

I considered. "It seems that the Germans believe whatever it is they're searching for was on that plane. You'll want to talk to the people who were on it. Do you know who else, besides the robbery victims, came to England on that flight?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "That was easy enough. I've been able to obtain the passenger lists."

That had been quick work. No wonder he looked as though he hadn't slept.

"There are only a few of the passengers still in London. The others have moved on to other locations. Which leads me to believe the thieves have narrowed it down to the London residents as well."

"Then they know that someone brought something back to London, but they don't know who any more than we do."

"So it seems."

"Do you have any contacts in Lisbon?" I asked.

He gave a brief nod. "I've sent inquiries through the usual channels, but it may take time to get any leads."

I sighed. "This is a monumental task. You think this is important enough to go to all this effort?"

"Colonel Radburn thinks so, and I'm inclined to agree with him. There is something that these people have deemed worth taking great risks for. It is best that we get it before they do."

"Fair enough," I said. "What do we do first?"

He gave the appearance of considering, though I had no doubt that the plan was already neatly laid out in his head. What he was considering was likely how much of that plan he wanted to lay out for me.

"I've been over the list of the people who were on that flight and gathered what information I could on them."

He had accomplished a lot since my last visit. Not exactly surprising; when Major Ramsey set his mind to something, very little could stand in his way.

"And you've decided who we should talk to first?"

"We may as well proceed in an orderly fashion, visit the earlier robbery victims and proceed from there. Miguel Perez has, unfortunately, left the country for the time being, but Germaine Arnaud is still here."

"Does she have a flat in London?" I asked.

"No. She was robbed in her hotel suite. She's since moved to the Ritz, thinking it might be safer."

"Ah, so she's that type of refugee, is she?"

He looked over at me, his brows raised slightly.

"A rich one, I mean. There're a lot of people who've fled the Continent who don't have enough to eat. This woman sounds like the type I wouldn't have minded lifting a few valuables from myself."

"Don't get any ideas," he said darkly.

I narrowed my eyes at him but did not respond to this remark. "When do we go to see her?" I asked.

He looked at his watch. "Would now suit you?"