She knew that to the east, sirens were likely still blaring. But here, on the opposite end of London, all was quiet. She’d heard a few reports coming in over the wireless before she left the OB. Enough to know that the German raid was over and damage had been minimal.

That meant the munitions factory had been spared. In that at least, they’d won.

Dot and the rest would be back soon, then. Wouldn’t they? She had to believe they would be. She would believe it, cling to it.

The door to Dot’s building opened with its usual squeak, and the dim lights of the entryway greeted her. No one else would be about at this hour.

Except, apparently, for the man sitting on the steps. Looking shorter than he was, hunched over. With a gun at his side pointing straight at her.

Her breath caught, went still inside her, and for the briefest of moments she wondered, Why? Why didn’t you warn me, Lord?

But that wasn’t the right question. That wasn’t the question that led to life. That was the question that led to bitterness, to walls between her and her God.

She let the door fall shut behind her and met the eyes of Dieter Regnitz. And prayed He would give her the right question.

She didn’t know if she’d found it. But she could think of only one thing to say as she looked at his blackened hand. Heard the rasp of his breath. And saw his face, pale as a ghost. She eased a step forward and held out her hands to show she had no weapon. “Why did you alter the game?”

The game. She meant Go, he assumed. The pieces he had put where he needed them. Das Gespenst tried to lift the gun, but his hand shook if he didn’t keep his arm anchored to his body. And he wasn’t nearly skilled enough at shooting left-handed anyway. He wouldn’t be able to work the bolt to load another chamber—he’d have one shot, that was all. As he’d had one in the rifle he used to signal Elton. It had been enough then.

This would be enough now.

“It was necessary to prove my point. Do not move, Miss De Wilde. I will score at least one victory tonight—and this may in fact be the sweetest. It may not help the High Command to take out an Admiralty secretary, but it will provide my revenge. Elton loves you, does he not? It will hurt him more than death to lose you.”

Her eyes darted to the left, toward the landlord’s office. A ploy, no doubt, to distract him, so she could lunge. But he refused to take his eyes off her. Hands still held out, she dared to ease another step closer. “You’re ill. And injured. What happened?”