her down a primrose path. To win her cooperation and with “the greater good” in mind, the Bureau might have implied, without the handshake, that they would cut her a deal. But even so, Dante had been emphatic: there had been no firm deal, no promises.
The Countess was ripe for a shoulder to cry on, and I was here to listen. I slipped from my seat and went to her. “You’re not alone,” I said, patting her shoulder, savoring the downy plush of mink engulfing my fingers.
She cried harder and I continued patting until, as quickly as it had started, the weeping stopped. She looked up, nose running, eyes red. Snuffling loudly, she dipped into the folds of fur and removed a lacy handkerchief, the kind you would never expect to actually use. She blew into it noisily.
“What will you do?” I asked, dropping to the floor to sit next to her. “About the FBI, I mean. They’re a powerful organization. Don’t you have to do what they want?”
“I did. For a year and a half.”
“But—”
“No buts. It was hard labor, mentally exhausting. Think of it. In the entire time I did their bidding, I had no privacy. I was followed, they tapped my conversations, watched me through a peephole in my apartment, even when I was with my fiancé. Imagine!” She shuddered. “I did what they asked. I helped them capture seven spies. Now they must keep their end of the bargain. They must free me. Now!”
Her lower lip quivered. I thought she might start crying again, but she continued. “On their last visit, three days ago, they had the nerve to suggest—no, threaten—I must cooperate. Plead guilty. Ha. I will not! Such a plea would result in a long prison term. There, someone would surely kill me…” She sighed. “If I do not die of depression first.”
I tried again. “But—”
“I have already said no buts. I will tell the world they have threatened me. That I have been mistreated. Yes, even tortured.” She made a dramatic sweeping gesture. “This place is torture. I have nothing left to lose.”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe you should reconsider. Play along with the feds. It’s possible they only want to keep you in custody until all of the pleadings are in. I read in the paper that two of your gang members have already pled guilty. If there’s a trial, they’ll need your testimony. But if the rest plead guilty too, there won’t be one. If you cooperate, maybe they’ll set you free then.” I was lying through my teeth, trying to outgun an enemy spy, one who had fired more than her share of double-dealing ammo already. How sweet the offense.
She eyed me warily. “You know a lot about my case, about the feds and their ways.”
“Rumors about home front spies are a hot topic of conversation at work. I read the papers,” I emphasized firmly. My lips felt dry. I licked them and lowered my voice. “It’s said that a couple of
Abwehr
agents connected to your case eluded the FBI’s net. Do you know? Is it true?”
Her eyes were mere slits. “You talk about spies at work? With Mrs. Snodgrass?”
“Well, yes…”
The Countess, with her squinty eyes, resembled a cat about to pounce on a rat. “Tell me more, please, about how you came to be accused of stealing from her.”
“Like I told Billie, Mrs. Snodgrass has so much jewelry she must have misplaced a few pieces.”
“And they arrested you, brought you here, put you in a cell next to mine because they
thought
you stole her jewelry?” Entangled in the fur coat, she fought to free herself. Eyes blazing, she scrambled to her feet. “You’re a liar! Someone pulled strings to get you in here. Why? Who?”
“Hear me out,” I pleaded. “My situation is your situation, remember? It’s all a big mistake…”
The Countess paced again. “Who are you? Why have they left me alone with you?” She pressed her back against the cell bars and looked around, a desperate animal trapped inside a cage. “Have you been sent to harm me? Matron! Help!”
With
The Countess was ripe for a shoulder to cry on, and I was here to listen. I slipped from my seat and went to her. “You’re not alone,” I said, patting her shoulder, savoring the downy plush of mink engulfing my fingers.
She cried harder and I continued patting until, as quickly as it had started, the weeping stopped. She looked up, nose running, eyes red. Snuffling loudly, she dipped into the folds of fur and removed a lacy handkerchief, the kind you would never expect to actually use. She blew into it noisily.
“What will you do?” I asked, dropping to the floor to sit next to her. “About the FBI, I mean. They’re a powerful organization. Don’t you have to do what they want?”
“I did. For a year and a half.”
“But—”
“No buts. It was hard labor, mentally exhausting. Think of it. In the entire time I did their bidding, I had no privacy. I was followed, they tapped my conversations, watched me through a peephole in my apartment, even when I was with my fiancé. Imagine!” She shuddered. “I did what they asked. I helped them capture seven spies. Now they must keep their end of the bargain. They must free me. Now!”
Her lower lip quivered. I thought she might start crying again, but she continued. “On their last visit, three days ago, they had the nerve to suggest—no, threaten—I must cooperate. Plead guilty. Ha. I will not! Such a plea would result in a long prison term. There, someone would surely kill me…” She sighed. “If I do not die of depression first.”
I tried again. “But—”
“I have already said no buts. I will tell the world they have threatened me. That I have been mistreated. Yes, even tortured.” She made a dramatic sweeping gesture. “This place is torture. I have nothing left to lose.”
I cleared my throat. “Maybe you should reconsider. Play along with the feds. It’s possible they only want to keep you in custody until all of the pleadings are in. I read in the paper that two of your gang members have already pled guilty. If there’s a trial, they’ll need your testimony. But if the rest plead guilty too, there won’t be one. If you cooperate, maybe they’ll set you free then.” I was lying through my teeth, trying to outgun an enemy spy, one who had fired more than her share of double-dealing ammo already. How sweet the offense.
She eyed me warily. “You know a lot about my case, about the feds and their ways.”
“Rumors about home front spies are a hot topic of conversation at work. I read the papers,” I emphasized firmly. My lips felt dry. I licked them and lowered my voice. “It’s said that a couple of
Abwehr
agents connected to your case eluded the FBI’s net. Do you know? Is it true?”
Her eyes were mere slits. “You talk about spies at work? With Mrs. Snodgrass?”
“Well, yes…”
The Countess, with her squinty eyes, resembled a cat about to pounce on a rat. “Tell me more, please, about how you came to be accused of stealing from her.”
“Like I told Billie, Mrs. Snodgrass has so much jewelry she must have misplaced a few pieces.”
“And they arrested you, brought you here, put you in a cell next to mine because they
thought
you stole her jewelry?” Entangled in the fur coat, she fought to free herself. Eyes blazing, she scrambled to her feet. “You’re a liar! Someone pulled strings to get you in here. Why? Who?”
“Hear me out,” I pleaded. “My situation is your situation, remember? It’s all a big mistake…”
The Countess paced again. “Who are you? Why have they left me alone with you?” She pressed her back against the cell bars and looked around, a desperate animal trapped inside a cage. “Have you been sent to harm me? Matron! Help!”
With
Similar Books
