The Oslo Affair (Shadows of War, #2) by CW Browning (read after .txt) 📗

He finished the message and folded the paper, looking around the top of the desk. Spotting a stack of envelopes in a pigeon hole, he extracted one and slid the paper inside. If there was any way he could warn Evelyn of the threat, he would, but there wasn’t. She would be on a train to Stockholm herself by now. The most he could do was alert her when she checked in upon her arrival.

He turned to leave the study, uncomfortably aware that tomorrow could be too late. Her mission had been severely compromised, that much was clear, and the prudent thing to do now would be to recall her immediately.

A rush of irritation went through him. If Daniel Carew had informed them of this Herr Renner before now, they would never have approved her going to Stockholm. It was far too risky with two agents now aware of her presence. She hadn’t been prepped for this. She had been prepped for a nice, easy fact-finding mission on friendly soil, and this had turned into anything but.

He went down the stairs to the hall again and handed the clerk the sealed envelope.

“Have this transmitted directly to Lord Montclair, in London,” he told him briskly. “His eyes only.”

“Yes, sir.”

He watched the clerk hurry out the door and into the night before turning back to the stairs. His lips suddenly curved as he considered the situation. This was the second time that a simple, straight-forward mission had turned sideways on Evelyn. She really did appear to have the worst luck. The first time she had come through without a scratch, but that was before the war began.

The smile was gone as quickly as it appeared. Everything was different now. Both agents trailing her worked for countries that would not take kindly to a British agent in their midst. It was time to get her out of there.

He just hoped tomorrow would be in time.

Chapter Sixteen

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The Strand Hotel, Stockholm

November 9

Evelyn signed the registry at the desk and waited while the man checking them in went to a cabinet to get the key to their room. It was early afternoon and the lobby was empty save for a few guests wandering through on their way to the door, heading for the sights and sounds of the harbor. Anna had stopped at a vendor outside on their way in, lured by the sight of newspapers and cigarettes, promising that she would be right in.

“Here you are, Miss Richardson.” The man returned with the room key and a smile. “The lift is to the back. Would you like me to call a porter to carry your luggage?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He nodded and motioned to a porter. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

“Oh! There is one thing. Can you have a message delivered to the British embassy for me?” she asked.

“Of course. Would you like some paper?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He placed a pad of paper before her and handed her a pencil. “I’ll ensure it is delivered immediately.”

Picking up the pencil, Evelyn wrote a few lines on the paper and tore it off the pad. Then, folding the paper, she wrote a name across the front.

“Please have it delivered to Horace Manchester.”

“Of course.” He took the note and slipped it into an envelope, sealing it in front of her. “I’ll send it over right away.”

“Thank you very much.” Evelyn picked up her gloves and purse and smiled brightly. “I appreciate it.”

She turned from the desk as Anna came hurrying across the lobby, her heels clicking a rapid staccato on the tiled floor. She held a folded newspaper in her hand and her hair had partially slipped from under her hat in her haste.

“Maggie! You’ll never guess what’s happened!” she exclaimed breathlessly, coming up to the desk. She shoved the newspaper into Evelyn’s hands. “Someone tried to kill Adolf Hitler!”

“What?!”

Evelyn grabbed the paper and opened it to the black and white headline. She didn’t need to know Swedish to understand the headline: EXPLOSION MENADE FÖR HITLER.

“It says there was an explosion last night at the beer hall where he was speaking,” Anna told her, looking at the paper with her. “He speaks there every year on the anniversary of the Putsch. Last night, not ten minutes after he left, a bomb exploded behind the podium where he had been speaking, bringing half the roof down. A bunch of people were killed, but it says that there’s no doubt the bomb was meant for Hitler. His speech was supposed to be at nine, but they moved it up to eight so that the Führer could get back to Berlin. If he had started when originally planned, he would have been killed.”

Evelyn stared at the paper for a moment, trying to decipher some of the words for herself, then looked at Anna.

“Does it say anything about the person responsible?”

Anna shook her head. “No. They’re looking for them. They think the bomb was on a timer and put inside a stone column.”

The porter cleared his throat apologetically and, when both women looked at him, he motioned to Anna’s bags questioningly. She nodded and he picked them up along with Evelyn’s.

“How extraordinary,” Evelyn said, passing the paper back to Anna and turning to walk towards the lift. “I thought everyone loved him in Germany!”

“Not everyone, apparently.” Anna fell into step beside her. “Could you imagine if it succeeded? It was so close! Hitler had just left!”

“If it had succeeded, it certainly would have taken care of this war,” Evelyn said. “Pity. This could have all been over.”

“I’m sure that’s what the person who did this thought as well. I wonder if they’ll catch him?”

“I’m sure they will. The Gestapo are nothing if not efficient.”

Anna shot her a look as they stopped before the lift and the attendant opened the door and stood aside for them to