and the two of them sat in leather armchairs with the table drawn between them, as they used to sit playing chess before retiring to bed. Only now Eve’s hands were tied flat to that table’s surface with the silk cord from one of René’s robes. Tied so tightly it hurt, so tightly she had no hope of pulling free.
She didn’t try. Escape wasn’t a possibility now. The only things possible were to remain silent, and show no fear. So she kept her back straight, much as she wished she could curl over her hands and shriek, and she managed a smile for René. He would not know what that smile cost her.
“You wouldn’t rather play chess?” she suggested. “I let you teach me how to play, because Marguerite was t-too ignorant to know chess, but I’m actually rather good. I’d love to play a real match instead of always losing on p-purpose so you can feel superior.”
Rage tightened his face. Eve barely had time to brace herself before the bust descended, and with it the now-familiar sound of crunching bone.
She screamed through clenched teeth, making René’s chin jerk. She had told herself at first that she wouldn’t scream, but she’d broken down by the fifth knuckle. This was the tenth. She couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. She couldn’t look directly at her hand anymore either. From the corner of her eye, she saw a mess of blood and black bruising and grotesquely twisted joints. All the damage so far was to her right hand—the left still sat beside it, undamaged, curled into a fist.
“Who is the woman with whom you were arrested?” René’s voice was taut. “She can’t be the head of the local network, but she might know him.”
Inside, Eve smiled. Even now, René and the Huns had underestimated Lili. They underestimated anything female. “Her name is Alice Dubois, and she’s a nobody.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He hadn’t believed anything out of her mouth so far. After the sixth knuckle went in a burst of blood, Eve had tried giving him false information, anything her imagination could make up. Hoping it would make him stop. But he had not stopped, even when she pretended to acquiesce and started talking. He might be new to the business of torture, but he was keen.
“What is the woman’s real name? Tell me!”
“Why?” Eve managed to spit. “You won’t believe anything I say. Give me to the G-Germans and let them ask the questions.” At this point she wanted a German cell. The Huns might interrogate her, they might kick her about the floor, but they did not hate her personally as betrayed, outwitted René did. Just turn me in, Eve prayed, biting the inside of her lip to stifle a moan, tasting her own blood.
“I will not turn you in until I’ve drained you of information,” René said as though reading her mind. “If I’m to overcome the distrust the Germans will harbor knowing I took a spy for a mistress, I must give them something valuable. If I can’t, I may as well spare myself the suspicion altogether and just shoot you.” A pause. “It’s not as though anyone will inquire about a disappeared waitress.”
“You can’t kill me. You’d never get away with it.” Of course he could, but Eve began flinging doubts at him anyway. She’d already thought of this, the moment he pointed the pistol at her. “You think you could march me out of this study on my own two feet, off to some lonely spot where you can shoot me and leave me in the bushes to rot? I’d scream and struggle every step of the way. Someone would see.”
“I could kill you here in this room—”
“And then have to dispose of me somewhere, all by yourself. Your German friends may owe you favors, but they won’t dispose of a corpse for you. You think you can lug a body out of your restaurant and get rid of it, all without someone noticing? This is a city of spies, René, German and French and English alike. Everyone sees everything. You’d never get away with it—”
Oh, yes, he could. Money, luck, and a good scheme could always make murder possible. But Eve kept flinging up objections anyway, and she could see the doubts being sowed in René’s eyes. He had no firm plan and he was floundering here, for all his taut control. You make brilliant plans, Eve thought, but unlike me, you can’t improvise worth a damn.