Rough hands seized him and lugged him from his office under the astounded gazes of the lingering staff and arriving janitorial crew. Before being yanked over the threshold of his fiefdom that he would never see again, Louis threw a wild-eyed look at Claus Bauer watching from his cubicle door. Their gazes locked. Chris kept his perfectly still, with not a hint of guile in it, but Louis’s flared in shocked recognition of his denouncer as he was dragged away screaming by the men in whose hands he had planned to deliver Claus Bauer.

A drop-jawed instructor next to Chris said, “Herr Mueller, a queer? Whoever would have guessed?”

“Whoever indeed?” said Claus Bauer.

*  *  *

Derrick finished composing his note to Victoria Grayson and affixed the seal of his family crest to the flap of the envelope. It contained his written apology for cutting their picnic short yesterday and an invitation to make it up to her by taking her on another drive through the countryside to a small inn that offered spectacular views and served the finest lemon sole in France. Would she be free this Friday, November 20? Enclosed was a telephone number where he could be reached. After summoning Karl to arrange a courier to deliver it to the fencing school this Monday morning, Derrick settled back in satisfaction to finish his coffee.

Victoria Grayson had taken the bait and proved beyond doubt that she was a spy. Now he hoped whoever she was working for would swallow it as well. The whole dramatic scene at the folly had been staged as a setup to lure her to make contact with whomever she was working for. Upon their return to Paris, excusing himself for a matter of urgency, Derrick had instructed Karl to take him to his headquarters first before driving Mademoiselle Colbert to her residence. He’d then gone to his rooms at the Crillon to await the report from his wolfhound, now in place to follow her as soon as she left the hotel. No one was more skilled at shadowing than his longtime investigator. Derrick had not been surprised to see the man’s face fall as he gave him his instructions. Though Derrick trusted him and Karl above all men, the confidences he shared with them were limited to a need-to-know basis. Neither ever questioned his orders or asked for information beyond what they were given, but like all men after having seen Victoria Grayson, his wolfhound was saddened that such a beautiful woman should fall under the suspicion of the counterintelligence head of the Sicherheitsdienst.