Fun. That would be the quiet of her flat and that journal the Duchess of Stafford had lent her. She’d already read through the whole thing twice, but she’d like another go at Einstein’s article before she dared to talk of it to the duchess. Her German was good, but it hadn’t recently been focused on mathematical and scientific phrases, and she wasn’t altogether certain she’d been translating each word properly. She’d brought a massive dictionary home with her this afternoon, though, to help her remedy any mistakes.

Once Dot put down her glass and joined the sailor on the not-a-dance-floor, Margot edged backward until she’d found a nice corner to disappear into. By her calculation, they could leave in another twenty-three minutes without it looking rude. Assuming Dot wanted to go. With a bit of luck, the sailor wouldn’t be charming enough to outweigh her friend’s urge to return home. Surely she’d want to go and check on her newly installed brother.

Culbreth drifted to a halt in front of her, along with Sir Malcolm—one of DID’s staff. “A bit scary, isn’t it?” he was saying.

Sir Malcolm hummed his agreement. “I’m just grateful we managed to intercept it. Can you imagine the chaos it would have caused if they’d made it to our armies? There was enough sugar there to have killed thousands of animals. Horses, donkeys—we’d have been in quite a spot.”

Margot lowered her glass a bit. Sugar. Dead animals. She’d decoded something about that, but the details wouldn’t quite surface. Which was troubling. She frowned at her soda and tried to sort through it.

Wednesday last. That was it—the day she’d come home with a fever and found Maman.

No wonder the details were playing hide-and-seek.

Culbreth was shaking his head. “I can’t quite fathom it. Using a disease like anthrax to gain the upper hand. It doesn’t seem right, does it? Deliberately spreading something we’ve tried so hard to eradicate?”

“The huns are scrambling for any advantage they can find, that’s what. We’ve got them on the run.”

Anthrax. Margot took another sip of the soda.

“Yes, but what if some of that sugar had made it into human consumption? Can you imagine the results?” Culbreth, though his back was to her, was surely frowning. She could hear it in his voice. “I looked it up—nasty thing, that. Gave me quite a start, too, to see how many symptoms of infection resembled the flu, what with that bout of it going round the office.”

The synapses in her brain finally fired in such a way that she felt the jolt all the way to her toes. This was what had been bothering her ever since she stumbled home that morning and found Maman.