“You must have been friends a long time ago,” he said.
She shrugged. “Yes, it was. We are very different, which is why we were able to be good friends.” She wondered if the lie would work.
“Yes, I can see that. She needs a sensible friend.”
“Do you know where I can find her?” Maisie pressed.
The man nodded. He held up a finger and rested his broom against the door frame. “Wait here.”
Maisie remained on the street outside the pub, moving a few steps so it might seem as if she were window-shopping in front of an adjacent store. Still, passersby took second glances at her, as if wondering what a good woman was doing outside a destination for the committed drinker.
The landlord emerged, clutching a piece of paper. “Here you are. This is where you will find her.”
Maisie took the small sheet of paper and then looked back at the man. The red rims of his lower eyelids appeared to be sinking toward his cheekbones. “How do you know her address?”
“I did not say it was her address, madam. I said it was where you would find her.”
Maisie nodded. She asked the landlord for directions, and he indicated with one hand that she should follow the street, take a third left and a first right, then another left and right. She thanked him, wished him a good day, and went on her way, knowing she would have to stop another pedestrian at some point to ask for fresh instructions. Though she did not look back, she knew the landlord was watching her as she stepped out along the pavement, her body braced against the cold air.
Some forty-five minutes later, Maisie stood across the street from what appeared to be a plain apartment building, almost severe in its design. She had read about the very plain, simple architectural style that had become fashionable in Germany, a trend which celebrated the union of form and function, akin to other artistic movements in Europe wherein ornamentation was set aside in favor of strength and purpose. This modern sensibility was reflected in the property she’d bought in Pimlico, where Sandra now resided. The flat had been new when she’d purchased it some years earlier, yet the way its glass reflected light on even the most overcast day gave the building a warmth. The overall impression was of a stately ship on the sea, not the square box of a government office.
She thought back to the landlord’s comment. It is where you will find her. But who lived in this building? She crossed the street. The door was locked, so she cupped her hands around her eyes to look through the metal-framed glass door. Two men stood at the back of an expansive entrance hall, as if they had just reached the bottom of the staircase and were finishing their conversation. She had seen those distinctive black uniforms before, when she presented her papers to support the release of Leon Donat. Before they could turn toward her, she crossed the street to gaze into the window of a shoe shop. In the window’s reflection, she saw a black motor car draw up alongside the building, and the men left the entrance hall and climbed aboard. Maisie would have to wait. She walked up and down, stamping her feet to keep warm. She hoped she would not have to linger very long, and attract unwanted attention. She watched as more men left the building, in pairs and individually, sometimes on foot but more often in vehicles. She was about to give up when a younger man pushed open the door, looking both ways and across the street.
Maisie picked up her heel as if to remove a smut from her stocking. The man took no notice of her, but Maisie was in time to see him gesture with his hand, as if to say “Hurry.” Elaine Otterburn ran down the steps, dressed in clothing more suited to a night out on the town. She pulled the officer toward her as if to kiss him, but he drew back. He hailed a taxi, took Elaine by the arm, and all but pushed her in. Instead of joining her, he closed the door and turned back into the building. The taxi set off, but at a slow pace. Maisie was wondering how on earth she would corner Elaine Otterburn when she saw the taxi draw to a halt to allow a line of schoolchildren, holding hands and walking in pairs, snake their way across the road. She ran toward the taxi. It would be her only chance, she knew, to talk to Elaine.