I could get someone to watch her so I could make it to the station, and by then Eleanor wasn’t there. I figured she would try to contact me again. Eleanor was very persistent that way. But I couldn’t find her, so I left. Later that day, when I learned what had happened, I went back.”
“That’s when you took the suitcase.”
“Yes. I had seen it there that morning, but didn’t get close enough to notice that it belonged to Eleanor. Only later, after I heard the news, did I put two plus two together and realized it was hers. After what happened, I couldn’t just leave it there.”
“Do you mind if I look inside her suitcase?”
Marie shook her head. “I haven’t opened it yet. I couldn’t bear to.”
Grace laid the suitcase down on its side and undid the clasp. Inside, Eleanor’s belongings remained neat, untouched. Grace scanned the contents, taking care not to disturb them. At the back, nearly buried, was a pair of white baby shoes.
“Those are mine,” Marie said suddenly, reaching for them. “That is, they belonged to my daughter. Eleanor had no children. But she had these for my safekeeping.”
“So she brought them with her for sentimental value?”
Marie smiled. “Eleanor had no sentiment. She did everything with purpose.” She turned the shoes upside down and as she did, a metal chain fell out of one of them. Marie retrieved it from the floor. “My necklace.” She held up a chain with a butterfly locket. “Eleanor kept it safe for me after all.” She batted back tears as she secured the necklace around her neck. Then she studied the baby shoes again, a look of realization spreading across her face. She started working at the bottom of one of the soles with practiced fingers. “Shoes are some of the best hiding places.”
Inside the heel was a tiny piece of paper. Marie unfolded it carefully and showed it to Grace. It was a mimeograph of the order Grace had found in the file. Grace reached into the suitcase to see what else Eleanor might have brought. She pulled out a small notebook. “She always had a notebook,” Marie remarked, smiling at the memory.
Grace flipped through the pages. “There’s to be a parliamentary hearing on what happened to the girls. And look...” She pointed to one of Eleanor’s notations: “Need Marie to substantiate the Director’s role.”
“So she wasn’t coming to tell me what happened. She needed my help to prove that she had nothing to do with the radio game.”
“Do you believe her?”
Marie brushed the hair from her eyes. “Absolutely. The Director’s story never made sense. Julian told me before he died that Eleanor was worried about the radios and they wouldn’t let her cease transmissions. Whoever did this, it wasn’t her.” Marie’s face fell. “Eleanor needed me and I failed her. And now it’s too late.”
“Maybe not,” Grace said suddenly, an idea forming. In the end, Eleanor had died fighting for her girls, just as she had in life.
“But of course it is. Eleanor’s dead.”
“Yes. But what did she want more than anything?”
“To learn the truth.”
“No, to make sure the world knew. She died too soon to tell them. But we can do it for her.” Grace stood, holding her hand out to Marie. “Come with me.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grace
New York, 1946
One month later, Grace walked out of Bleeker & Sons at the end of the day and took the subway north to Forty-Second and Lexington. She reached the street and found Mark, waiting for her at the corner. “You do have a way of turning up,” she teased. It was a joke, of course; this time she was expecting him. After abandoning him at Frankie’s office to find Marie and then figuring out how to help her, Grace had returned to work to find him gone. He was needed back in DC on business, he’d told Frankie. She phoned him to apologize. She didn’t want him to think the kiss they had shared had put her off (very much to the contrary). He had been understanding, and though he was expected back in DC that night for work, he promised to let her know the next time he was in New York.
Mark was as good as his word: he’d phoned the previous night to say he would be in town for work and could she meet him for a drink? Grace had said yes straightaway, had taken care through the seemingly forever day at work not to mess her