“Now. Once they are in your possession, you march half—that’s half—of them straight over to the RAF Quartermaster’s department. With detailed instructions for use, mark them addressed to these particular chaps.” He’s spouting this while jostling over to his desk, where he drops onto his chair and swaps the spoon for a pencil to scribble on a scrap of paper. “If anyone gives you what for, merely relate that I insisted they try the gadget immediately and contact me to discuss. The spares can be locked up here in our Pending cupboard. Have you got all that?” When he holds out the note, I hurry over to accept.

“Y-yes, sir,” I say as my brain scrambles to keep up.

“Brilliant. I do believe, Miss Vos, we will strike lucky on this.” Brightly, he swipes the burning cigarette from his ashtray and takes a puff. But before I even tuck the paper into my coat pocket, his focus shifts to his paperwork.

Our meeting is over.

A celebration short lived.

I start for the doorway, digesting his directives until, off in the corner, an assortment of cloth maps—the boxes holding them, specifically—revives a vision of his nighttime rendezvous.

How nice it would be to move forward without a trace of misgivings, to put any silly notions to rest.

Boosted by our exchange and with a subtle approach dawning, I turn back. “Sir, I’ve been meaning to ask.” He hums in acknowledgment. “The last parcel I retrieved from the station, is there anything in it I should take care of?”

He peers over the rims of his glasses. “The parcel…?” He says this as if attempting to remember.

“From King’s Cross. I assume it was samples of some kind?”

“Ah, yes. That is all sorted, but thank you for inquiring.” He flits his hand. “There is no time to waste on those cans.”

I nod and comply by taking my leave.

As I tread out of the building, a weight descends in my gut, only partially from his ambiguity and haste in sending me away. Mostly, in the midst of his answer, it was the downward flick of his gaze, confirming he has something to hide.

Chapter 31

Analyzing and solving: these skills have long been my specialties, as much onstage as in life, a means to achieve order in chaos. Perhaps that’s been another draw to my watching more spy and detective films than I’d care to admit. There’s satisfaction to be found in the promised resolution of a riddle, from cobbling pieces together through intuition and sleuthing.