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

jewelry upstairs and everything is accounted for.” Rob dropped the letter on the desk again and shook his head. “I can’t make head or tail of it.”

“Could the window have been left open?”

“No. The lock was broken. She’s had a locksmith out to replace it, and he replaced all the locks on the ground floor while he was at it. Most of them were older than all of us, so it’s just as well. Honestly, I think that’s the only reason she even told me about the whole thing. She knew I’d see the bill.”

Miles sat up with a frown. “Have the police been notified?”

“Yes, but they haven’t had any other incidents in the county. It’s all very strange. They’re saying it was probably some kids for a prank.”

“Are those the kinds of pranks they get up to in Lancashire?” Miles asked, raising an eyebrow.

“They never have before.” Rob sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I feel bloody responsible. With Dad gone, now it’s all up to me. I mean, they’re all alone there.”

“It sounds as if this isn’t the norm. I wouldn’t worry too much unless it happens again. The police are probably right. It was probably just some kids on a prank. If the locks have been replaced and the servants are more mindful of keeping an eye on things, everything should be fine now.”

“Mmmm.” Rob nodded reluctantly. “I suppose you’re right. I do wish Evie was still there, though.”

Miles looked at him in surprise. “Evie? Why?”

Rob glanced at him and Miles was astonished to see his face turn a dull red. He shuffled the letters on his desk together, turning his face away, and Miles’ curiosity grew.

“Oh, well, she’d be company for Mum, y’know,” Rob muttered. “Kind of a moral support, if you know what I mean.”

“How will that help against burglars?” Miles demanded bluntly.

The color on Rob’s face increased and he shrugged, still avoiding Miles’ gaze.

“She’s a bloody good shot, you know. Once hit a pheasant at nearly two hundred feet!”

Miles pursed his lips skeptically but let the comment pass. While he had no doubt that Evelyn was a good shot, he had a hard time picturing her roaming the manor house with a rifle tucked under her arm. This was England, not the Wild West of America. But if Rob didn’t want to tell him the real reason Evelyn would be useful against potential burglars, he wouldn’t pry.

Miles felt his lips twitch. He’d just have to discover the truth from Evelyn herself.

“Well, are you coming to London or not? If not, I’m leaving and you can jolly well have beans on toast for your dinner,” he announced, grabbing his hat and standing.

Rob choked back a laugh and turned to lift his coat off the back of his chair.

“I’m coming!” he exclaimed, pulling it on and opening a desk drawer to pull out his wallet. “No need for threats.”

Miles grinned and followed him to the door, noticing that the color in his friend’s face had returned to normal. Evelyn was getting more and more fascinating by the day. What was the big, juicy secret that made her brother turn the color of beets?

And when the bloody hell was she going to answer his letters?

At least now he knew she was as busy as they were. He supposed it stood to reason, especially if she really was training plotters. If he’d had time to think on it properly, he would have realized that himself. Instead, he’d sent off three letters and a gift, and had heard crickets in reply. And that was something he hadn’t been expecting.

Miles Lacey was not used to having to work for his female friends. Yet he had the sneaking suspicion that that was exactly what he was going to have to do with Assistant Section Officer Ainsworth. The prospect didn’t bother him one bit, and he whistled jauntily as they went down the stairs and outside to his low-slung, two-seater Jaguar.

Evelyn Ainsworth didn’t stand a chance.

Chapter Eighteen

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Evelyn walked out of her room dressed in wide-legged trousers and a wrap blouse, her hair loose around her shoulders. Now that she’d changed from dinner and had had time to think, she felt calmer and more poised to take on this new challenge. There were ways around having a Soviet agent watch her every move. She just had to find them.

Anna was lounging in one of the chairs, smoking a cigarette and flipping through the pages of a glossy magazine. As Evelyn walked in, she glanced up.

“I wonder if the person who set that bomb in Germany was a communist,” she said. “What do you think?”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow. “Why would you think that?”

“The paper said it might have been politically motivated, and I can’t think of any other political party with the nerve to do it.”

Evelyn dropped onto the love seat and thought for a minute.

“It’s possible. If it was a communist, that won’t bode well for continued good relations with the Soviet Union. More than likely, though, it was simply another German who opposes the Führer. I’d imagine there are enough of them about.”

“Do you think so?” Anna laid the magazine in her lap and looked at Evelyn. “I received the impression from those two scientists the other night that most Germans are in agreement with the Nazis.”

“Why? Because they won’t do anything to oppose the unfair treatment of the Jews?” Evelyn shook her head. “I don’t think that necessarily means they’re in agreement. I think they’ve been conditioned against opposing the government, but that doesn’t mean they all truly support it. Rather, I think it’s just like anywhere else. There are those who are Nazis, and there are those who are not.”

“Erik says that to be complacent is to be complicit. I’m starting to wonder if he’s not onto something there.”

“I think we should be careful not to hurry into judgment of people when we aren’t in possession of the full story,” Evelyn said with a frown.