B008AZB1XW EBOK (13 page)

“Yes!” the professor said happy to expound on the subject. “They’re quite adept actually at usurping other religions and turning them to their own purposes. Both from Christianity and Paganism. You’ll see symbols and even rituals that might once have been a celebration of the winter solstice warped into parts of an SS dinner party.”

“Sounds more like a religion than a political party.”

“Yes, doesn’t it?” the professor said as he scanned his bookshelves. “I’ve often thought as much myself. Himmler in particular is rather adept at using mythology and the occult to increase the zeal of his men, or so I hear. Not that I hear much. The hallowed walls of academia can be terribly thick sometimes.”

“I know the feeling,” Simon said.

“Supposedly,” Giles said, “Himmler and Hitler admire the epic struggles often found in Norse mythology and even in stories of the Holy Grail. Parsifal in particular.”

“That’s another Wagner opera, isn’t it?” Elizabeth hadn’t forgotten everything Simon had tried to teach her about opera.

“Yes, they both share a great affinity for his work,” Giles said. “Personally, I’ve always found it rather overwrought.”

“Agreed.” Simon said. “You’ve been so very helpful with our research, I’m hesitant to ask too much of you, but I was wondering about something else. We were at Smith’s bookshop and he mentioned that you’d bought a copy of
The Book of Iona
. I don’t suppose you have it here. I’ve been searching for it. For a colleague.”

“Smiths…” Giles took off his glasses and chewed thoughtfully on the earpiece. “
The Book of Iona
…oh, yes!”

Elizabeth and Simon exchanged quick, excited glances. This was the moment they’d been waiting for.

“But I’m afraid I don’t have it here.”

So much for the moment.

“I don’t actually have it at all anymore. It’s funny you should say you wanted it for a colleague. I bought it for a dear friend. Was his birthday present as a matter of fact. Sometime last month. I can’t remember precisely.”

“Pity,” Simon said looking at Elizabeth for help.

“Is he a professor too?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, although he doesn’t teach anymore. He’s a bit of an odd duck, you see. Regardless, I have to say he is the most talented linguist I’ve ever known. Rupert Morley. Has a place over in Cirencester.”

~~~

They thanked Professor Giles for his time and it was all Elizabeth could do not to run out of his office and all the way to Cirencester. That was until Simon told her it was about a hundred miles away. Both her feet and her stomach protested against the idea of running that far. They agreed to have lunch first and then save the world.

They found a large cafeteria. Simon explained that it was one of the hundreds of British Restaurants the government controlled in an attempt to keep food costs down and its citizens fed. They had Welsh Rarebit, which Elizabeth always thought had actual rabbit in it (Run, Monty, run!), but ended up being just burnt toast and a tangy cheese sauce. The side dish was, ironically, carrots. They split a piece of victory sponge for dessert. An actual sponge might have been better. But, Elizabeth was determined to eat every mouthful. She had a bad case of the guilts.

“You don’t have to finish it,” Simon said.

“I do.” She forced down the last bit. “Everything I don’t eat is something someone more needy needs. Needier needs? Either way, it’s less for someone else.”

“I don’t think one bite of cake is going to make a difference.”

“Maybe not, but—” The rest of her sentence died in her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Simon asked.

The hair on the back of Elizabeth’s neck stood on end as a cold chill ran through her. Sitting at a table less than twenty feet away was the German, Hans. She took a calming breath and didn’t answer the panic knocking at the door.

Simon followed her gaze. “Dammit. Come on,” he said as he urged her to get up. She sure as heck didn’t need urging.

They tried to move casually, but every sound, every movement felt like a claxon going off announcing, “We’re here!” They hurried to the door and slipped outside. They’d barely gone twenty feet when Elizabeth looked behind her. The door to the restaurant flew open and Hans spilled out onto the sidewalk. His face was pale, making the red from his scar look angrier than before. He scanned the crowd and found them easily. He sneered and set out after them.

“Not good,” she said. “He saw us.”

“This way.” Simon pulled her across the street.

Once they were on the other side, they wove their way through the pedestrian traffic. It was mid-afternoon and the streets were filled with people, most of whom it seemed were going in the opposite direction. Elizabeth desperately searched for a policeman or even an air raid warden. Someone. Where was a marauding band of GIs when you really needed them?

As they hurried through the crowd, she saw a big blue police box and a ridiculous series of thoughts tumbled one after the other through her mind. Maybe Dr. Who was there? She idly wondered which doctor it would be. No, it was a real police box and not a Tardis. Darn it. But, police were good. They could go inside and call for the police. That’s what the boxes were for, after all. They could go inside and be trapped like rats while they waited for an unarmed police officer to come from some station a block or more away and defeat the patient Nazi who would surely wait and not just kill them.

They ran past the police box and Simon pulled Elizabeth toward a Tube entrance, which was really little more than a sandbag bunker above a hole in the ground. Elizabeth nearly slipped as they hurried down a short set of steps and through the main concourse. They ran past the ticket booth and down an absurdly enormous escalator before Simon yanked her into an offshoot tunnel. After another long, narrow corridor, they headed down an even longer set of stairs. At the bottom, they ran through an archway and onto a crowded platform.

Simon’s grip on her hand was so tight it hurt, but she sure as heck wasn’t about to complain or let go. They serpentined through the crowd toward the far end of the tunnel. A train pulled into the station and brought a blast of warm air with it. Elizabeth looked back and saw Hans weaving his way through the crowd. One hand was stuffed into his jacket pocket and she knew he was holding a gun.

The train doors opened and a wave of people washed out. She lost sight of Hans for a moment as he struggled against the tide. But he reappeared a second later and their eyes met. The coldness in his expression took her breath away.

“He’s right behind us.”

Simon yanked on her hand again and they tried to duck out through one of the exits, but it was so packed with people, they couldn’t get through and had to press on down the tunnel. The further they went the thinner the crowd became. Finally, they reached the end, an aptly named dead end.

They turned back just in time to see a man stumble into Hans. It looked like they were arguing, but it was difficult to tell because Elizabeth couldn’t see the other man’s face. Hans tried to shove the man away, but he held on to Hans’ arms.

The interruption gave them what they needed, a chance to run for the exit. They started for the archway.

Hans suddenly fell back against the tiled wall, his shoulders hunched and a hand clutching his stomach. The other man stepped back and helped Hans slide down the wall as though he were instantly drunk. Hans slid all the way down until his chin was resting on his knees. The other man patted his shoulder in a friendly manner. The man straightened Hans’ hat before he stood back up and then turned to face Elizabeth and Simon.

The last thing she expected was to recognize his face. And when she did, her heart flipped. It was Evan’s doctor from Guy’s hospital.

“Dr. Webber?”

Dr. Webber wiped the blade of his knife on Han’s coat, folded it and slipped it into his coat pocket. His expression was flat and unreadable.

Elizabeth looked up at Simon. He’d seen it too. He jerked on her hand and pulled her back toward the crowd. “Come on.”

They ran for the exit and melted in with the crowd as it poured through the corridor, up the wooden-planked escalator, more stairs, past the ticket collector who shouted something after them and finally outside. Elizabeth didn’t know what to think. What on earth was Evan’s doctor doing there and why had he just killed Hans? She supposed she should be grateful for that last part, but not knowing why he was there and who he really was scared the bejesus out of her.

Everything was all harumscarum now. Her heart pounded as she caught her breath. “What just happened?”

Simon didn’t have an answer.

“Evan,” she said, gripping his hand. “We’ve got to get to the hospital.” What if the doctor had already done something to him and they were too late? But then why would he hurt Evan? Why was he following them? He’d killed Hans, which was a good thing, she tried to tell herself, but the idea made her sick anyway. He’d just murdered a man. What had seemed straightforward before was suddenly a twisted Mobius strip.

Simon flagged down a taxi and they both silently urged it to go faster as it headed toward the Thames and Guy’s hospital on the other side. Simon paid the cabbie and they hurried toward the wing where Evan was. All they found at the end of their journey was another dead end. They were politely informed that Evan was not allowed to see visitors — doctor’s orders. It wasn’t hard to guess what doctor. Elizabeth wasn’t sure what she’d expected. It was naïve to think they could just walk out with Evan after everything that had happened.

What if Evan wasn’t even at the hospital anymore? What if he’d been moved? They’d come here to save him and now he was probably God only knew where. Stymied at the hospital, they went back to the hotel. Maybe Jack could help them. He’d know what was going on.

Simon knocked loudly on Jack’s door. “Wells!”

“All right, all right,” came Jack’s voice from inside the room. “Keep your shirt on.” He opened the door and stood aside for them to enter. Harry James’ Sleepy Lagoon played softly in the background.

“We just saw Hans,” Elizabeth said breathlessly. “He chased us and we ran. But then the doctor, Evan’s doctor, he was there and, I think he stabbed Hans.”

“I know,” Jack said.

“We were—” Simon started. “What do you mean, you know?”

The bathroom door opened and Dr. Webber stepped out, casually drying his hands with a towel. “I told him.”

Chapter Fourteen

Dr. Webber tossed the towel back into the bathroom. “I’m sure you have questions,” he said as he rolled down his shirtsleeves and re-buttoned the cuffs.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “Just a few.”

Simon edged in front of her. “Stay where you are.”

“Relax,” Jack said. “He’s one of the good guys.”

“I like to think so.” The doctor grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. “Andrew Blake, British Intelligence.”

Another spy? She needed a scorecard. “Is anyone in London who they seem to be?”

“You might be the only ones,” Blake said with a smile.

If only he knew.

Blake stepped forward and offered Simon his hand. “I apologize for the ruse, but I assure you, it was necessary.”

Reluctant at first, Simon eventually shook it. “You’re not a doctor then?”

“Heavens, no. Can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it a few hours ago,” Elizabeth said. The memory of Hans’ stabbing and Blake’s cold face were at odds with the easy-going charm of the man in front of her.

“Nasty business,” he said. “Please?” He gestured for them to sit.

Elizabeth sat in the corner of the sofa, but Simon remained standing behind her. Blake took a chair opposite hers and offered her a cigarette from a silver case in his pocket. When she declined, he tapped the end of his cigarette against the case and then lit it with a matching silver lighter.

“Why were you following us?” Elizabeth asked.

Blake plucked a stray fragment of tobacco from the tip of his tongue. “I wasn’t following you. I was following Hans, whose real name, by the way, is Heinrich Bernhardt, SS. We’ve been watching him and his partner for several months now.” He took a deep drag from his cigarette.

“Apparently,” he continued, slowly exhaling the smoke, “they were involved in the killing of the two Swedish agents near Swindon. It’s possible they were responsible for the injuries Eldridge suffered. He was in bad shape when we found him.”

“You found Evan?” Elizabeth asked.

“We took him to the infirmary, did our best to help him regain his health and hoped he could help us recover the Shard. But, it hasn’t quite worked out that way.”

“His memory,” Elizabeth said.

“Is selective,” Blake said. “We are quite aware that he is not as ill as he appears.”

That definitely wasn’t what Elizabeth wanted to hear. She really thought they had that one advantage over everyone else and now even that was gone. It made her wonder what else they knew and weren’t saying.

“Eldridge has kept his own counsel,” Blake continued. “Until now.”

“You two weren’t the first people to visit him at Guy’s hospital,” Jack said. “But you were the only ones he spoke to.”

“That makes you rather special,” Blake said.

Elizabeth turned to look up at Simon and they shared an uneasy glance.

“We’re family,” Elizabeth said quickly. Perhaps too quickly.

Blake smiled enigmatically, but if he knew they were lying he didn’t press the point. “Yes and word of your relationship and visit has spread.”

Simon stepped forward so that he was at Elizabeth’s side. “There’s still something I don’t understand.”

Elizabeth’s brain was having trouble keeping up. “Just one thing?”

Jack chuckled.

“How did the Germans know about our flat that first night?” Simon asked. “We’d only just arrived. No one knew where we were staying except for staff at Guy’s.”

“Including myself,” Blake added for him. “Yes, I’m afraid we have a bit of a mole problem. Several of the staff are MI5 and it seems one of them is a double-agent. Your whereabouts weren’t the first piece of leaked information we’ve discovered.” The ash on his cigarette had grown precariously long and Jack slid the ashtray toward him. He tapped the end off and continued. “That’s one of the reasons I was following Bernhardt this afternoon. I’d received word that he might be meeting with our mole. I trailed him into the restaurant where, well, you know the rest of that story.”