“The evening Major Hutton first approached you in New York, did you ring U.S. Lieutenant Arie Jansen about the encounter?”

Internally I flinch. Then I note that as part of my vetting, my bills and records must have been examined.

“I did phone him, yes.”

Crockatt sits forward slightly.

“It was strictly to ask for any general insight about the major, seeing as Arie—Lieutenant Jansen—serves in intelligence, and the two might have crossed paths.” Deducing what’s sure to be the next query, I add, “He said he’d heard Major Hutton was eccentric…and resourceful, I think. And that was that.”

Bogart asks, “I presume he encouraged you to accept the position?”

“Actually, no. I never mentioned the offer.” It’s a bit rewarding to have knowledge this man doesn’t have.

The colonel interjects. “Yet he knew to locate you here on the premises just weeks ago.”

As quick as that, I’ve lost the upper hand. The idea of a staff member observing our reunion through a window unnerves me further. “I imagine the lieutenant simply asked around to find me.”

Come to think of it, Commander Moretti likely directed him to Wilton Park, but no reason to pull the airman into the mix. I add, “Arie and I hadn’t communicated since the one telephone exchange, but his parents are aware I’m in England to help with the war in some manner. I’ve corresponded with the couple to put them at ease, always keeping my information vague. You see, I grew up in their home since childhood.”

“Yes,” Bogart says. “We’re aware.”

I conceal the gritting of my teeth as he resumes the lead.

“So when the two of you last met, you never disclosed details pertinent to your work here?”

I believe we’ve covered this, I want to say but think better of it as the colonel sits back, steepling his fingers over his middle. I’m reminded of the air commodore who ruminated in a similar way, right before his pristine office went up in flames—a story, in fact, that Arie and I touched upon. But even on that, I didn’t expound.

I regard Bogart with conviction. “No, sir. I didn’t.”

“Nothing about quantities or locations of shipments? Perhaps agreeing to gift him one of your clever devices?”

Agreeing.

The choice of word clings in my ear. Agreeing, not offering. Bogart is implying I was asked. What exactly is he after?

“Miss?”

“Absolutely not. I take security very seriously.” I hold Bogart’s gaze. After a moment, he nods but then pushes on.

“Do you recollect, at any point, your work papers being out of your possession?”