He’d wanted to be there, part of the prize crew. And yet he wasn’t at all sorry he was here instead. “Are they certain she’s seaworthy? I’ve seen her, sir—she’s in sorry shape, and that’s a heavy load for her to carry.”

“Hence the many weeks of repairs. But I imagine we’ll soon know how she fares. Now.” Hall pulled a stack of clipped papers forward and slid it across his desk to Drake. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long to compile this information. We’ve been able to discover precious little about this Jaeger chap. But I’ve had a team combing through all entrance records, looking for him or his compatriots. There are half a dozen or so who could well be working with the Germans. A few have been detained already, a few have left the country again already. But these are still at large.”

Throat tight in anticipation, Drake took the papers and flipped through it. Looking not just for Jaeger, but for the man in the grey overcoat.

His fingers paused on the fourth page. “This could be him.”

“Jaeger?”

“No. The man outside my building, the one who ran from me. The height, weight, and age are right, and the description matches.” Tall—six foot four. Not too many men could answer to that. He frowned. “Niall Walsh. Irish?”

“Claiming to be an American of Irish descent, but I have my doubts. The story he gave the custom agents didn’t check out.” Hall blinked and tapped a finger to his desk. “What’s more, he’s vanished. He was apparently on board the Boynton when she was sunk, was rescued, hospitalized . . . and then nothing after his release. He let his flat go afterward, but I can’t track where he’s gone. No hotels or boardinghouses in the city have seen him, but he hasn’t left the country again, so far as we know. My people are checking other cities, but thus far, nothing.”

“Mm.” He kept reading, that page and the final two. Sighed. “None sound like Jaeger himself to me. But that supposedly Irish chap could be the one watching my flat for him. If we find him . . .”

“Right. I’ll put a few more lads on it.” Hall made a note and gave him a distracted smile. “I believe that’s all. Oh, except that I did send Thoroton a note this morning with the good news from your doctor, that you’ve been given the all-clear to return to the field. He’ll be expecting you by the new year.”

“Excellent.” He said the word easily enough. And hoped it sounded truthful. He was looking forward to seeing Abuelo again and getting back into the work he was so well suited for, doing something other than reading all day.

But . . .

Hall angled him a knowing look. “She’ll be here when you return, Elton.”