Outside, on the pavement below Estelle’s window, a woman had appeared, wrapped in a tattered coat that might once have been a vibrant shade of blue. She was moving slowly and unevenly, her shoulders hunched, her head covered by a dark scarf. As she reached the corner of the street, she simply sagged to the ground on her hands and knees, whether from exhaustion, hunger, or illness, it was impossible to say. Approaching from the other direction were two Wehrmacht soldiers in pressed uniforms, leather gloves, and polished boots. One of the men had a brochure or possibly a map in his hand, and they appeared to be in deep discussion. They stopped, inches from where the woman huddled, the taller one pointing up the street to the west. The Germans seemed to come to some sort of decision, and they moved off in that direction. Neither spared the woman a glance. It was as if she didn’t exist.

Estelle left the window. “You won’t be undetected.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Have you ever been to the Ritz?” she asked Sophie, coming to join her near the empty hearth.

“Once. Many years ago,” the agent replied slowly. “But just to the dining room and the shops. I’ve since studied the blueprint though. Why?”

“Plain sight.”

“What?”

“We’ll do this in plain sight. Detected by many.”

“And what, exactly, is it that we are doing and how are we doing it?”

Estelle looked up at the painting and the fatalistic maiden with her arms outstretched above her tunic that was still a vibrant shade of blue. Waiting for the dagger that would end her life. “If Polyxena is so intent on being a willing sacrifice, I have a far better cause for her to sacrifice herself for.”

Chapter 20

Chapter
20

Sophie

Paris, France
26 August 1943

The lorry that stopped in front of the doors on Place Vendôme was expertly handled by a driver in the Ritz’s dark uniform, gloved and groomed to the hotel’s uncompromising standards. His assistant, a youth likewise outfitted smartly, hopped from the passenger-side door and hurried to the rear of the vehicle. He was joined by the driver, and both set to work immediately maneuvering a large, flat object out of the lorry. The object was the height of a man and perhaps half as wide, and it was wrapped in stiff canvas, bound neatly with rope.

The car that Estelle and Sophie were riding in glided to a rolling stop behind the lorry and beside the lines of black vehicles, many adorned with miniature versions of the swastika banners covering the façade of the hotel. Sophie swallowed hard and reminded herself that she was not here to fight these Nazis. Not tonight. Tonight, she was here to be their friend. To help others one day obliterate them all.