“If I get what you require,” he says, “and that is only if, I will leave them…there.” He points to a gap between the floor and the base of the cobwebbed machinery.

I nod that I understand. “Thank you, Willem. I have every bit of faith you’ll try your best.” I say this not meaning to pressure him. Oh, who am I fooling? Of course I do.

Appearing to sense this, he tips his hat without another word and slips out the door.

Chapter 62

My idea of escaping together, the three of us, wouldn’t come without complications. There are train connections, safe-house stops, and a mountain hike to consider, as well as the logistics of linking up with my guide.

As it stands, on Saturday, straight after my morning train to Tilburg, I’m to relay scripted lines to a bookshop clerk—who, I now realize, probably isn’t even my contact. Mirroring Willem’s, that role will more likely belong to an inconspicuous listener, which means I can’t delay my arrival. And since Evelien’s escape isn’t possible until that evening, I’ll be spending a long day and night in Tilburg, just praying she and Arie will follow on the first train in the morning.

That is, if by then the Gestapo isn’t scouring Utrecht’s transportation hubs for the pair of them…

Oh, bother. None of this will matter if Willem and the forger don’t come through.

For now, I’ll refocus on a problem I can actively solve. Namely, devising a way to delay an alert at the hospital once Nel is freed.

Years ago, I witnessed an impressive trick that just might prove key. I was living in Chicago when a showman stopped through. Onstage, he disappeared in a poof of smoke and reappeared almost instantly in the balcony, dazzling the audience, me included. I attended the performance twice more to puzzle and analyze. When finally I noted a change in the man’s face, his chin gaining a powdered scar but only while in the balcony, it hit me: the fellow had a twin, or some other kin who could pass as him.

Needless to say, I’m not counting on finding Nel’s doppelgänger, much less in two days. A similar swap, however, could be an option. Nel has a room to herself due to security, her door being guarded round the clock. What if her nurse, made to doze off, was tucked into bed to pass as the patient? With Arie there for misdirection, Nel, in a nurse’s uniform, could conceivably walk right out of her room, then the hospital entrance.