“What if street urchins—vandals—get at it just for the orneriness of it?” Bucky asked.

Bridgette shrugged. “It could happen, Lodestar, but most likely not in daylight with the German patrols about and certainly not after curfew. I expect street contributions. You can bet some other artists won’t be able to resist adding their own touches, and I wouldn’t doubt but that some children’s marking in crayon de couleur will show up, but they shouldn’t interfere with my renderings regarding you, not if you know what to look for.”

Bucky nodded, satisfied.

Alistair had sat back and allowed the group to toss the plan back and forth, looking for holes and sticking points without butting in. The team would have gathered that Bridgette must be an artist of some sort working in a capacity that required her talent. Logic would also tell them that the courtyard wall would be close to her lodging to allow her ready and fast access to it. It was a brilliant plan if it worked. “A ray of light in a city gone dark. I like it,” he said.

Victoria stuck up her hand. “Well, if we’re voting, Liverwort here casts her vote for giving the mural a go. I see no reason why we shouldn’t try the plan, and I like the idea of putting one over on the Germans right under their noses.”

Bucky held up his palm as if swearing an oath. “And I, Lodestar, cast my vote to try it as well. Nice going, Labrador.”

Brad gave a rainbow wave. “Count Limpet in.”

Chris raised his thumbless right hand and smiled at Bridgette. “Ditto for Lapwing.”

A duplicate of the painting Bridgette had in mind went up on a wall, and in the next few days, the group memorized and developed a secret language made up of the features common to aquatic landscapes. Shadings, vertical and squiggly lines, circles, light and dark brushstrokes assumed meaning. Certain markings warned, notified, informed, and confirmed. Every emergency situation that could crop up were impossible to anticipate or address. The team concentrated only on the ones likely to occur. For example, a need might arise for a member to speak with Bridgette in person—what if the mail slot was compromised? That person should draw a diagonal line through his or her own symbol. It was an emergency summons to meet with Bridgette at the tea and book shop at four o’clock the day of the mark’s appearance. By the same token, a diagonal line drawn across the mural’s central dragonfly—Bridgette’s symbol—called for the entire group to meet.

Brad posed a question. How would Labrador notify the team that she’d been blown?

Bridgette pursed her lips while they looked at her expectantly. “I’ll leave a V in the dog’s ear if I am able. Then you’ll know to head for your safe houses.”