“All the time I do not know where my father is, I will be anxious for news.”
“Indeed.” Leslie consulted his notes and looked back at Maisie. “Now, we have been summoned to Nazi headquarters. Apparently, this whole thing has put them into a bit of a spin, and—”
“How do you know they’re in a spin?”
“Miss Donat, not only would we be in a spin if the boot were on our foot—losing citizens at a diplomatically sensitive time is not generally a good idea—but we have our sources.”
“I see. Of course you do.”
“One thing might be in our favor, though it will certainly draw manpower away from the investigation. It has to be said that the SS administrators and their Gestapo brethren are nothing less than vipers when it comes to seeking out prey.” He tapped the table. “Events have moved on apace in Austria. German troops entered the country, and we have word that Kurt von Schuschnigg, the Austrian chancellor, has been replaced by the Nazi Arthur Seyss-Inquart. The Gestapo and Waffen SS will be swarming across Vienna—you can count on that.” He turned a page of typewritten notes. “We have word that Herr Hitler will be making a triumphant entry into Vienna tomorrow. However, whilst all this is going on—and we can only hope it puts the men we see today in a good mood—I must assure you that we have certain resources of our own here in Munich, and will conduct a parallel investigation into your father’s disappearance. Though such searching has, of course, to be carried out in a somewhat, well, careful manner.”
Maisie nodded. “And you will keep me posted daily?”
“We will do our best, though you understand there are certain formalities here that cannot be divulged to a civilian, no matter how deeply concerned with the welfare of the subject of the investigation.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Now, let me brief you on what we expect at Nazi HQ. Frankly, they cannot bully you. You have been as shocked as anyone could be, given the circumstances—but they will ask about your father’s associates here, and will ask you again about his intentions during what should have been a sojourn of just a few days. They may try to intimidate you—in fact, at some point, you can count on it—but simply be yourself, and all will be well.”
Maisie nodded.
Leslie looked at his watch. “The call should be coming in soon. Again, nothing to worry about, Miss Donat—some foreign office bod over there wants to check up on you, in private. A word to the wise, though—all calls received and placed from this telephone in this room are, we hope, unable to be overheard by any listening devices employed outside the confines of the consulate, and indeed inside the building. However, one can never completely trust anyone. Frankly, I remain circumspect in all telephone conversations. Mind you, you’re safer than you would be on an ordinary telephone.” He took the key, slipped it into the lock, lifted the receiver, and turned the dial once for the operator.
There was a click as the call was answered, and Leslie cleared his throat to speak. “Yes, thank you. Ready when London comes in.” He nodded, as if the operator were in the room. Then he replaced the receiver, pushed back his chair, picked up the sheaf of papers, and took one step toward the door. The telephone rang. Leslie did not look back, but kept walking. Maisie waited for the door to close behind him, and picked up the receiver.
“Are you there?”
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Well, you’ve been having some fun, haven’t you, lass?”
“Just so I know you’re who I think you are, tell me your favorite pub.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” MacFarlane paused. “We’ve trained you too well. It’s the Cuillins of Skye.”
“Right. As you can imagine, Mr. MacFarlane, I wouldn’t mind a swift visit there right now.”
“Mr. MacFarlane, is it now? All right, Maisie. Get it off your chest.”
“In the few days since I arrived in Munich, I have been followed and engaged in conversation by an American—from the United States Justice Department, I might add—who maintains, with his hand on his heart, that he has my six. Elaine Otterburn is in all likelihood under suspicion for the murder of an SS officer, though I also have a suspicion about that little problem.” Maisie took a deep breath to keep her voice steady. “More to the point, in the course of my duty to bring Leon Donat home to England, I may have consigned a poor sick man to torture beyond belief—that’s the one breaking my heart, Robbie, and I have to live with it. Now then, what’s all this about having to give Leslie a list of my plans for each day? I have a job to do here, and that is to find Leon . . . my father . . . and if he’s still alive, bring him home. Given what I’ve heard about what’s happened in Austria, I suppose we’re going to need all the boffins we can get. And one more thing—does Leslie know who I am? Or are we two being moved around like puppets?”