using her cover. “Will sent me.” She didn’t have any sort of password and she hoped that his name would be enough. There was a flicker of recognition around the woman’s eyes.
“Where is he?”
“He flew a plane back to London.”
“You should have gone with him. Things are very dangerous now,” the woman hissed. “I’ve had two other agents knock in the past day.”
“Who were they?” Marie asked.
“Agents from Montreuil, seeking shelter. I had to turn them away.” Marie expected to be sent packing as well. “I’m Lisette,” she added.
“I need a place to stay for the next six days until Will comes back for me.” Marie could see the woman calculating the risk, weighing it against whatever loyalty she owed to Will.
Finally, Lisette nodded. “Six days. No longer.”
Lisette led her down to the cellar. “One more thing,” Marie said. Lisette turned to her, arms folded. “Vesper didn’t return as expected. But we think he’s somewhere in-country. I need to find him.”
“Impossible,” Lisette snapped. “Do you have any idea what has happened out on the streets in the past twenty-four hours? More than a dozen agents have been arrested, and almost all of the safe houses have been discovered.” Marie thought back to the deserted villa. Had the other agents been arrested there? If the Germans had that location, they might know about her flat as well. She regretted then leaving her radio intact, lest they come looking for her and discover it. “And the locals who were helping have grown scared and started turning folks in. It’s a miracle you made it here,” Lisette added. “To start asking questions now would be suicide for all of us.”
“Please.” Impulsively, Marie reached out and touched Lisette’s arm. “You must understand—I didn’t fly out with Will because I need to find Vesper. I can’t simply sit here.”
But Lisette shook her head emphatically. “If you stay here, you must stay out of sight. Otherwise you will risk this location—and my girls.”
“Then I can’t stay,” Marie countered.
“All right,” Lisette relented finally. “I will make inquiries for you. But you must stay hidden.”
Marie wanted to argue that she herself had to go looking. But what chance did she have really, without connections or any link to the locals here? No, Lisette was her best and perhaps only chance of finding him. “Thank you,” she said finally.
“I’ll ask around for you. But don’t get your hopes up,” Lisette cautioned. “With all of the arrests, it’s all but over now.”
So Marie waited helplessly in the cellar for five days, her hope of finding Julian fading. Each night Lisette came back with nothing. No news of his whereabouts. Marie saw his face constantly, and she wondered where he was and whether he was hurt.
A creaking from above pulled Marie from her thoughts. Footsteps, too heavy to be Lisette’s. One minute passed, then another. Then silence. A cold sweat broke out on Marie’s skin. But the footsteps creaked again on the floor above, followed by a rattle and clink sound. She relaxed slightly. Probably Anders, the barkeep, setting out the clean glasses from the night prior. The whorehouse had a quiet rhythm during the day, silent preparations for the boisterous evening that always followed.
There was an unexpected, high-pitched ringing, the bells above the front door to the bar as it opened. Marie tensed once more. The girls all used the discreet back entrance and almost no one came here during the day. She crept up the stairs from the cellar and peeked through the crack in the door. Two gendarmes had entered the bar.
“Have you seen this woman?” Once of the policemen held up a photo. Anders’s expression did not change, but Marie knew without a shadow of a doubt they were looking for her.
Anders shook his head. “She isn’t one of our girls.” Marie prayed the barman would keep her cover.
“Marie Roux,” the policeman pressed. They knew who she was. But how?
“She isn’t here,” Anders said, and retrieved a bottle of expensive cognac from beneath the counter. “We’re closed,” he added, extending the bottle toward the man. Marie held her breath. Would the bribe work?
“We’ll be back tonight,” the policeman said ominously, taking the bottle Anders offered and starting back toward the door.
When the door had shut behind the gendarmes, Marie slumped against the door frame. But her relief was short-lived: hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her back into the cellar, nearly throwing her down the stairs. She struggled to escape the grasp.