the quiet tearoom. It seemed I was to spend the majority of my day in tearooms, but at least this one was less stuffy than the last had been.
The waitress set our tea before us, and I found suddenly that I was nervous. I wasn’t sure why, exactly. I supposed it was because I had never asked him for anything before, and I was suddenly going to ask him to put himself in the middle of a risky situation, one in which his life and the lives of many others might be at stake.
“What’s the matter, sweet?” he asked, placing his hand over mine.
I looked up. I had wandered off in my head. I made a good show of appearing to be at ease while my mind wandered, but the truth was that I was uneasy. Few people would have recognized it but Felix.
“I have a favor to ask you,” I said, deciding to charge ahead.
“I’d do anything for you. You know that.”
“You’d better hear me out first,” I said.
“I’m listening.” He released my hand and took a cigarette from his pocket and put it to his lips.
I had debated the best way to go about telling him what I had to say, but I still hadn’t quite come to a decision. After all, how did one go about recruiting a spy? That was, in essence, what I was doing.
“I’m afraid I’ve been keeping a secret from you,” I said, as he struck a match and put it to his cigarette.
“Oh?” He was watching me carefully, but there was no sign of apprehension in him. Felix was always very calm, always certain that things would work out the way he intended them to.
“Yes, you see … I’m afraid I’ve been engaged in some rather clandestine work.”
“With your uncle?” he asked.
“In a manner of speaking.”
I realized that I was drawing things out unnecessarily. I might as well have out with it.
“Uncle Mick and I have been working with the government.”
“You’re working with the government?” he repeated. He didn’t sound entirely surprised, but it was hard to surprise him. He always took everything as it came, with good humor and unruffled composure.
“Yes. I … well, it’s a long story. We were … caught breaking into a house, and it came down to a choice between helping or going to prison.”
His brows rose, concern flashing across his expression. “You should have told me.”
“I wanted to … but I couldn’t,” I said.
“So you’ve been drafted into service. Doing what?”
“I … I can’t say, exactly. Not until after I’ve told you the rest of it.”
“Go on.” He took a leisurely drag of his cigarette, as though I hadn’t been telling him the most astounding things. It occurred to me that if anyone was born to do clandestine work, it was Felix. He was collected, resourceful, and unflappable. I suddenly wondered what the story was behind the loss of his leg. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it had happened when he was doing something heroic.
“There’s been a bit of trouble, and we need your help.”
He blew out a stream of smoke and then a smile tipped up the corner of his mouth. “It’s all rather dramatic, isn’t it?”
“Yes, I suppose it does sound that way.”
“Well, why don’t you tell me more about it.”
He settled back in his chair, the picture of casual comfort.
“There is a certain set of documents that needs to be recovered. Well, not only recovered, but replaced with a different set entirely. There is a letter that must accompany them. We need an alternate letter written in a specific handwriting. You’re the only person I know who could do something like that.”
He said nothing, but took another long drag from his cigarette, staring out into the room as he blew out the smoke.
I didn’t know whether I should remain silent and let him think it over or if I should press onward. When the silence lengthened, I decided to continue on.
“I know you’ve done your part,” I said, my gaze flickering to his leg. “More than your part. But this is very important. If we don’t get these documents back…”
“Who’s in charge of this operation?” he asked.
“I … I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you, as of yet. Not until you’ve agreed to meet with him.”
Felix seemed thoughtful as he put the cigarette to his lips again, breathing deeply and exhaling a cloud of smoke.
“You’re under no obligation to do anything, of course,” I went on. “But I hoped