The Consequences of Fear by Jacqueline Winspear (the best electronic book reader TXT) 📗

“So, who gives the last word, Robbie? Who does that? Who do I speak to about Elinor?”

“So you can do what?” Now his eyes met hers, shocking her with their clarity and resolve. “You made an assessment and youwere bang on right about her. But she was not captured because she made a mistake. She was caught out because she didn’t standa chance. The Germans have ever more sophisticated detection equipment, and they are fast. We have boffins doing their best,and by golly they are good, what with the inventions they come up with, yet we still can’t keep up with them. But the Germans—bestengineers in the world when it comes to wireless transmission and signal detection. Those boys are born with antennae comingout of their ears and coils of wire running through their veins, Maisie.” He paused. “Thank god our code-breakers are betterthan theirs. Anyway, I’m not finished.”

Maisie felt chilled, as if any remaining air in the room had become colder. “Pascale! Where is she? What’s happened to her,Robbie?”

“We know it was close—the whole unit was at risk from the start. As far as we know she’s on the run. We hoped it would be toward the border—there are safe houses on the way. The other option would be for her to lay low and then we’ll get her out on a Lysander as soon as she makes contact and it’s safe. We’re awaiting confirmation as to her whereabouts, who’s keeping her under their wing, and then we’ll know the best way to bring her home. That’s where you come in—trying to predict what she would do.”

Maisie did not pause to reflect. “She would make an attempt to go home.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said MacFarlane.

“No, it’s not, Robbie. England is not her home.” Once again she met his gaze. “Her home is her grandmother’s chateau, andat the moment it is also home to senior Gestapo officers.”

“God help us.”

“It’s in the notes, Robbie—or perhaps you were all so captivated by that clipped English accent and her perfect French, whichas you know she speaks along with several other languages. It’s a gift she has. And I’m sure you know that Chantal—her grandmother—hasbeen running an escape line for RAF pilots from her cellar.”

MacFarlane looked at his watch. “We’re expecting to hear from one of our agents any minute now—which is why I wanted to getyou in here sooner rather than later, so you can give us your opinion, and if there is contact with Miss Evernden, keep heron the straight and narrow. She’s got a lot of her aunt in her.”

“Robbie—” Maisie caught her breath. The news about Elinor seemed to have diminished her ability to draw air into her lungs.She had known Elinor since meeting her in Biarritz, when she was the young nanny to Priscilla’s boys. “I’m sorry—just giveme a second.”

MacFarlane reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick white cotton handkerchief. “It’s clean,” he said, passing it toMaisie.

Maisie took the handkerchief, and wiped her eyes. She cleared her throat, composing herself. “Robbie, Pascale has all Priscilla’s bravery, all her forthrightness, and she’s a lot like her aunt, but she’s also tempered. She’s not quite so hotheaded. In fact, being too cool in a situation was something I commented upon in my notes—the middle ground can be a very safe place, whereas being brittle—and she can be brittle—renders you breakable.”

MacFarlane nodded. Maisie had never known him not to have a quick retort. He glanced at his watch again, and pushed back hischair. “Come on, Maisie. Time to see what the radio operators are up to out there.”

MacFarlane led Maisie along a corridor into another room, larger, with desks and radio equipment, and the tapping of Morsecode coming from a unit in the corner, operated by a young woman with hair that had been drawn back into a smooth roll tracingthe nape of her neck. Beads of perspiration had formed on her brow, and she was frowning as she leaned closer to the equipment.A man and a woman were standing behind her, peering over her shoulder. They both looked up as Maisie entered with MacFarlane,and nodded in their direction.

“Where are we?” asked Robert MacFarlane.

“She’s alive,” said the woman, her voice low. “But she believes she was shopped—someone gave away the radio operator’s locationand she was with her, having just disbanded with the rest of the group following a less than successful sabotage attempt ona train carrying men and ordnance. It’s clear the Gestapo knew where to find them; it wasn’t just the skills of a clever Naziboy in a van with equipment locating her signal.” She turned her head toward the operator, placing a hand on her shoulderas if to steady her. The young woman scribbled something on a piece of paper, which she handed to the man.

“Apparently our agent sustained a flesh wound, and she’s been hiding out in the forest—well, we assume that’s what it is,” said the man. “She said she’s missed the big bad wolf and she’s on her way to grandmother’s house, whatever that means.” He turned to the woman. “Did I miss something—is grandmother’s house code for a safe house?”

“Oh dear—,” said Maisie. All four people in the room now focused on her as she turned to MacFarlane. “It’s as I feared, Robbie.Grandmother’s house isn’t a code—she’s going to try to reach her grandmother’s residence. It’s in the country, a chateau.Very grand. But it’s currently home to a few Gestapo officers, as I said. And she’s well aware of that fact.”

No one spoke, yet the young woman kept her attention on the signal coming through. She wrote more notes, and handed them tothe man.

“The injury is manageable, as far as we know. She’s been seen by a local midwife who cleaned the wound, so her arm has atleast been bandaged. She’s going alone on foot and will not be using safe houses—because nowhere is safe. And she’s takenone of her pills.”

“What pills?” asked Maisie.

“Benzedrine,” said MacFarlane. “We can’t have tired,