Alistair had thought and come up with the perfect gift. He would allow his operatives to write to their families back home—their letters censored by him, of course—and Bridgette would leave the collection in the dead-letter box for Henri to pick up. His plan would call for two meetings at the tea and book shop, but the morale boost would be worth the risk of the group being seen together. One was necessary for Bridgette to inform the team of their surprise with instructions to slip their letters into the mail slot unaddressed, and another for her to distribute their families’ replies. Considering the circuitous and unpredictable routes correspondence between France and the Allied countries were forced to take now, mail to and from the States would require weeks to cross and recross the continents, but their families’ letters should be in the team’s hands by Christmas, in all but the orphaned Bridgette’s. He’d have to think of something special to do for her to compensate.

*  *  *

Colonel Derrick Albrecht had forewarned her by telephone of an imminent visit from homicide detectives of the French National Police, so Victoria was prepared for the summons to Jacques Vogel’s office later that morning. “You have nothing to fear,” the colonel had assured her after explaining about the police’s discovery of the photos. “Simply pretend that you have no idea why they were in Monsieur Fournier’s possession.”

“What if he left an explanation of who I am and how he knew me?” Victoria asked.

“I wondered, but the detective didn’t mention it, not to me.”

“But he may to me. I’m the one Fournier meant to blackmail.”

“Or me for consorting with an American. I could be blissfully unaware of your nationality, for all Fournier knew.”

“Or he meant to turn me in to you. Perhaps that was the reason the man was on his way to your office the day he disappeared,” Victoria said. There was an abrupt, strange silence as if she’d said something amiss. “At least, according to Le Temps.”

“Ah, yes. I did hear that. In any event, the man never arrived, so his mission will remain a mystery.”

After the police interview with Victoria, who claimed she’d never met the author and did not know why he possessed photos of her and Colonel Derrick Albrecht, the junior detective put forth a theory to his superior as they left the fencing hall. “Mademoiselle Colbert is a most beautiful woman, Chief. She impresses me as the kind who wouldn’t give that philanderer a lick of her spit even if he did try to blackmail her, especially if that SD colonel was bedding her. The scoundrel wouldn’t have dared given her a side glance.”