My Name is Eva An absolutely gripping and emotional historical novel - Suzanne Goldring Page 0,26

grubby handkerchief. ‘But you’ll be in trouble if you try to help them. One of the chaps said their German cook was caught taking home scraps of food from the barracks and now he’s been sent to prison. He was only doing it to feed his family.’

‘But do you honestly think all the Germans are guilty? You can’t blame everyone, surely?’

‘You’ll soon see for yourself. They can all say, oh, I wasn’t that sort of a Nazi, as much as they like, but I can’t believe they didn’t really know what was going on in the concentration camps.’

After another five minutes, Eva said, ‘How much longer will we have to wait around here?’ She peered inside the entrance to the building, but still couldn’t see anyone else coming. ‘I’d just like to settle down to some proper work.’

‘Oh, you won’t be doing anything for a day or two, I bet. That new consignment’s only just come in. They won’t be ready for us yet.’ Jimmy ground the cigarette end under his heel, then strolled up and down, flexing his shoulders.

Eva watched him, trying to work out what he meant, then heard brisk steps marching down the hallway, accompanied by curt, clipped words, and out stepped a small, dapper man with a tidy moustache, wearing a sharply pressed uniform.

‘Right, line up. Let’s get this over with,’ he snapped, waving at the three of them with his swagger stick. The photographer who’d followed him fussed with his camera and waved his hands backwards and forwards to position the group till the Colonel spat, ‘Just take it, man. Take it as we are and have done with it.’ And then the camera clicked two or three times as he stood in front of the entrance doors, with his lesser colleagues arranged to his right.

So this was Robinson. This slightly built, brusque little man was the ‘terrier’ Tim had described. Eva tried to look at him while they all stood side by side, heads up, shoulders back, but the cameraman urged them to stay quite still and look straight ahead. She caught a glimpse of uncertain half-smiles on the faces of her two companions and thin, tightly pressed lips on the Colonel, who jerked his chin as if his starched collar was constricting his throat. And after the shutter had clicked, she heard him bark, ‘Right, as you were. Back to it, chaps.’ Then he marched back inside the building, the footsteps from his highly polished shoes echoing on the flagstones of the entrance hall.

‘We can relax now,’ Jimmy said, lighting another cigarette. ‘You can take your time if you want. There’s nothing much doing today.’

‘Why not? We should be getting on with the debriefings, shouldn’t we? Not hanging about, twiddling our thumbs.’

Jimmy shrugged. ‘You’ll be busy soon enough, once he gives the signal, don’t you worry. I tell you, if he had work for us, he wouldn’t be out here taking beauty shots. Once he gets going in there, he doesn’t stop.’

‘Bit of a taskmaster, is he?’

‘I wouldn’t say that exactly. It’s more that…’ He paused, as if trying to find the right words, ‘…once he’s picked up the scent, he follows it to the end. There’s no stopping him then.’

‘Am I right in thinking that was Colonel Robinson?’ Please let it be him. That’s the reason I’m here. I’ve come all this way, but I have to be sure.

‘That’s him.’ Jimmy leant close to Eva and, in a lowered voice, said, ‘Ruthie, we call him.’

‘Ruthie? Isn’t that a girl’s name?’

Jimmy laughed. ‘Short for Ruthless. He got the name in his previous position, running agents on special ops. End justifies the means, he always says.’

Eva watched Jimmy disappear through the heavy swing doors with the other clerk. The words he had uttered just before he left had made her shiver, with their echo of all she had heard about Robinson from Hugh and Tim McNeil. She was relieved that all her efforts had brought her to the right place, but how was she going to work under this man? How could she come to terms with what he had done to Hugh? She could feel a knot in her stomach and a hard lump of bile rising in her throat. He didn’t look like the type to succumb to the charms of blonde hair and lipstick. But at least she now knew what he looked like, and soon she’d have her own copy of the group photograph to keep, so she would never