Beyond a Doubt

chapter Thirty-Nine




“What do you think? Is it her?” asked Maximilian.

“Impossible to tell,” said Olga.

“But you spoke with her!”

“I know. But the woman was prepared. She looked at me like she was confused. Nothing more to us did she say, other than offering refreshment and a place to sit. Even after I told her they followed her. The woman either has a sense of control or bad hearing, I know not which.”

“What are we to tell Gustav? We’ve talked with everyone from the exhibit and none of them seem to fit. We have to find L.L.!”

The woman patted their sleeping children. It would not do for them to hear the conversation. That would tend toward confusion and if said aloud might attract unwanted attention.

“Maximilian, please do calm down. We will tell Gustav what we will tell him.”

His hands flew to the air. “What does that even mean?”

“It means, we will tell him we searched out every individual within the vicinity of Joshua and only three individuals have the initials L.L. Two of those are old men and one is a young woman. That is all we know; the rest he must gather for himself.”

The tedious carriage ride ended around midnight. The sleepy children were ushered into the cold, dark house. The driver had doused the lantern before arrival and the family ambled in under complete darkness. Olga placed the weary children in bed. A lullaby passed her lips as the children snuggled deeper under their covers.

Years before, the teachings of Martin Luther had inspired Max and her to leave the Catholic Church. The hypocrisy of the priests, as well as the pressure to purchase indulgences from healing to saving the soul of a dead relative, had sent them to research for themselves.

The German Bible they had received changed their world. They read the pages until the corners furled. Ink on the parchment blurred.

Once convinced, Olga and Max had moved. It had been a bold step. They’d left family and friends behind, but the call to minister to other German-speaking brothers in neighboring countries had pulled them onward.

Olga returned to find her husband sitting behind a wooden desk and staring out the window. Worry lines furrowed his brow.

Admiral Gaspard was a friend. They and the Admiral had spent time together in France.

Everyone who knew the Admiral discouraged any public announcement of the Huguenot colony. They felt the timing was wrong, but the Admiral disagreed. More and more people died because of their faith, and logic deemed they be moved to a safer, more acceptable location — hence the Admiral’s idea to colonize in Brazil.

Behind the scenes, friends worked to find solid proof the Admiral’s life was in immediate danger; with the finding, they hoped he would cancel his plans. Everyone knew a plot to eliminate the Admiral existed, but he wouldn’t accept the possibility. Olga understood her husband’s pain. So much death and no way to stop it.

“Max?”

“Ja?”

Olga stepped around the desk. She sat on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder. His lips grazed the top of her head.

“Olga, Gustav will be here in a few hours. We need to review what we’ve learned. We have to be missing something.”

She placed her hand behind his neck, drawing him closer. “What we need to do is rest.”

He removed her hand and then lifted her from his lap. A sigh left her lips as she took the available chair in the room.

Skirts settled, she spoke her honest opinion. “If we must review, then I believe it is the woman.”

“But why?”

Olga shrugged. “I think it would be obvious. The men are too old. They have wives and families. Besides, one of them sported a limp.”

“But Olga, the woman? She was young and had the huge burly man with her. Besides, I believe the woman is a collector. Did you study the house?”

“Of course I did. Remember, she invited me inside.” Had he already forgotten their conversation from a few hours past? Perhaps the man needed more rest than she’d thought.

“And what did you think? Was the man there on a personal visit?”

“Max, I don’t know. I already gave you my opinion. The woman was friendly but hid a little too much emotion when I spoke of someone following her. Besides, how much can one learn while accepting a drink?”

The next few hours they sat in silence. The quiet caused her eyelids to droop. Her body jerked at the pounding upon the outer door. Max jumped from his seat and raced to the front entrance before Olga rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Gustav entered. Olga retrieved refreshments. When she returned, Gustav and Max huddled in deep discussion. Their voices silenced. The items on the tray rattled as she forcefully placed it on the table.

“Have you not explained my involvement, husband? Or are there new secrets you wish to keep from me?”

Gustav came forward and kissed her brow. “Dear sister, I’m sorry. I forget you two share everything.”

“We do. And what of Teresa? Does she know where you rest your head?”

“She does.” His smile of genuine affection melted her hardness.

“Good. I assume Max told you our findings?”

“He did.”

“Did he tell you about the people we met?” She gave him time to nod before continuing. “I believe it is the lady. It would be the perfect ruse. Who would suspect a lady of means to be passing on secret messages?”

“Perhaps.”

“Gustav, you know I’m right. Those two old men could never travel and retrieve the information—“

“We don’t know that. Lyle Lamar travels to Scotland to visit his daughter on a regular basis. While there, Lyle is known to frequent similar activities as those of Joshua. I dare say the man attends at least half of the places in question. We believe if we continue to follow the clues Joshua’s left behind, we will discover the contact eventually.”

Her husband frowned. “Dear brother, have you yet to hear?”

“Hear what?” asked Gustav.

Olga’s mouth formed an “o” of shock. Maximilian proceeded. “Gustav, Joshua is dead.”

Gustav searched their faces for any conflicting thoughts between them. “B-but this can’t be! He was in France last week! He assured Jean and I that he would acquire the message upon his next visit to London. What happened?”

As Olga listened to her husband relate the story of Joshua’s, or rather Reginald Spalding’s, demise, worries beset her. Gustav shouldn’t have been surprised by the spy’s death. After all, hadn’t he been the one to send the directive to search for L.L. amongst the patrons of the private art collection?

Olga chewed on her fingernails as she fretted. Something was amiss. If her brother didn’t know of Joshua’s death, then perhaps he hadn’t sent them the message to search for L.L. That could only mean someone else had. By following the orders, had they just revealed all their leads? And if so, who had they revealed them to?