Cold Lonely Courage (Madeleine toche Series Book 2) by Soren Petrek Page A
Authors: Soren Petrek
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The man didn’t seem to be looking for him. Whatever they were going to do, it would happen before they got to England, he thought. One way or another, they plan to put me over the side.
.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The calm waters of the Mediterranean turned into the rough waters of the North Atlantic. The fine mist threatened to turn into rain, and the rolling motion of the ship kept the passengers inside. Madeleine walked along the second class deck, holding onto the handrail, watching the waves rise and fall under a gray sky. The fresh air and the movement of the sea helped her to focus on what lay ahead for her and less on what she’d left behind. The deck was slippery as she moved forward. Madeleine hadn’t seen DuPont since the day before and only for a brief moment in the cafeteria. He said hello, but seemed preoccupied and hurriedly left when the Germans walked into the room.
Madeleine started up the stairs that led to the main deck and was nearing the top of the first flight when she heard hushed voices arguing in German above her on the first class deck. She stopped and listened. She was unable to understand the conversation, but one of the men spoke in an excited and insistent manner. She made out the name DuPont more than once. The conversation ended as Madeleine heard the two men starting down the stairs towards her. She started back up, intentionally making as much noise as possible, hoping that it wouldn’t seem obvious that she had been listening from below. A moment later the two men saw her and she immediately greeted them.
“Bonjour,” she said cheerfully. Both men touched their caps briefly while barely glancing at her. They think I’m just a stupid young French girl, she thought as she reached the top of the stairs. They don’t notice me at all. But DuPont has some trouble coming. I have to say something to him.
Madeleine walked up to the bar and ordered a Pastis. She leaned against the rail and looked around the room hoping to see DuPont. Several other passengers had come to fight their seasickness with a cocktail. Madeleine finished her drink and walked back to her cabin, realizing that she didn’t even know what cabin DuPont was in. As she reached her door a young steward was walking down the hallway. “Excuse me,” Madeleine said stepping close to him. “Perhaps you could help me. Monsieur DuPont was going to meet me for dinner. I’m afraid the sea is a bit much for me at the moment and I don’t think I could eat anything at all.” Madeleine reached out and set her hand on his arm.
The steward smiled bashfully. “It’s a little rough today,” he said trying to be helpful. “A little ginger beer and soda crackers will help. I could send someone over with some.”
“I may want some later. What’s your name? Maybe I could ask for you,” Madeleine said.
“Ask for Pablo. That’s me. Monsieur DuPont is in room A-43. I’m really not supposed to give out room numbers but since you know him I guess it’s okay.”
“Pablo is a nice name,” Madeleine said, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Nice to meet you, Pablo, I’m Madeleine.”
Pablo reddened and looked at his feet. “I’m at your service, Madeleine. Call whenever you need something,” he said moving down the hall.
Madeleine watched as he moved away. She stepped into her cabin and over to the porthole and looked out. Spray from the waves splashed against the glass and she couldn’t look out it long before she felt queasy. She looked at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed. It was five o’clock and dinner wouldn’t be until seven. I’ll wait until at least six, she thought. That way it will look like I’m going over to tell DuPont I’m not well enough to eat. He must have done something the Germans really didn’t like, Madeleine thought. Maybe he’s in the Resistance. Whatever the reason, I have to warm him. Madeleine went over to her suitcase and took out her pistol. She checked the safety and tucked the
.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The calm waters of the Mediterranean turned into the rough waters of the North Atlantic. The fine mist threatened to turn into rain, and the rolling motion of the ship kept the passengers inside. Madeleine walked along the second class deck, holding onto the handrail, watching the waves rise and fall under a gray sky. The fresh air and the movement of the sea helped her to focus on what lay ahead for her and less on what she’d left behind. The deck was slippery as she moved forward. Madeleine hadn’t seen DuPont since the day before and only for a brief moment in the cafeteria. He said hello, but seemed preoccupied and hurriedly left when the Germans walked into the room.
Madeleine started up the stairs that led to the main deck and was nearing the top of the first flight when she heard hushed voices arguing in German above her on the first class deck. She stopped and listened. She was unable to understand the conversation, but one of the men spoke in an excited and insistent manner. She made out the name DuPont more than once. The conversation ended as Madeleine heard the two men starting down the stairs towards her. She started back up, intentionally making as much noise as possible, hoping that it wouldn’t seem obvious that she had been listening from below. A moment later the two men saw her and she immediately greeted them.
“Bonjour,” she said cheerfully. Both men touched their caps briefly while barely glancing at her. They think I’m just a stupid young French girl, she thought as she reached the top of the stairs. They don’t notice me at all. But DuPont has some trouble coming. I have to say something to him.
Madeleine walked up to the bar and ordered a Pastis. She leaned against the rail and looked around the room hoping to see DuPont. Several other passengers had come to fight their seasickness with a cocktail. Madeleine finished her drink and walked back to her cabin, realizing that she didn’t even know what cabin DuPont was in. As she reached her door a young steward was walking down the hallway. “Excuse me,” Madeleine said stepping close to him. “Perhaps you could help me. Monsieur DuPont was going to meet me for dinner. I’m afraid the sea is a bit much for me at the moment and I don’t think I could eat anything at all.” Madeleine reached out and set her hand on his arm.
The steward smiled bashfully. “It’s a little rough today,” he said trying to be helpful. “A little ginger beer and soda crackers will help. I could send someone over with some.”
“I may want some later. What’s your name? Maybe I could ask for you,” Madeleine said.
“Ask for Pablo. That’s me. Monsieur DuPont is in room A-43. I’m really not supposed to give out room numbers but since you know him I guess it’s okay.”
“Pablo is a nice name,” Madeleine said, giving his arm a little squeeze. “Nice to meet you, Pablo, I’m Madeleine.”
Pablo reddened and looked at his feet. “I’m at your service, Madeleine. Call whenever you need something,” he said moving down the hall.
Madeleine watched as he moved away. She stepped into her cabin and over to the porthole and looked out. Spray from the waves splashed against the glass and she couldn’t look out it long before she felt queasy. She looked at the alarm clock on the table next to the bed. It was five o’clock and dinner wouldn’t be until seven. I’ll wait until at least six, she thought. That way it will look like I’m going over to tell DuPont I’m not well enough to eat. He must have done something the Germans really didn’t like, Madeleine thought. Maybe he’s in the Resistance. Whatever the reason, I have to warm him. Madeleine went over to her suitcase and took out her pistol. She checked the safety and tucked the
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