A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [114]
“Yes, he seemed about to explode at the debate yesterday.”
“And he’ll definitely explode if he discovers that she was only offered the job in the first place because she’s Roth’s niece—his sister’s daughter. Roth can’t be happy about having to send her home to her parents, and I bet he’s none too pleased about Robson Headley, either.”
Maisie nodded. “Oh, of course! That explains Roth’s affection for Lang.”
Thomas inclined her head to acknowledge the piece of information clicking into the puzzle for Maisie. She said nothing for a while, then went on. “You’ve found Miss Linden, I take it?”
“Caring for her rather ill mother, along with her brothers and sister.”
“You may wish to talk to her again. The last time I saw her before Greville was murdered, she was conversing at great length with Dunstan Headley, in the grounds, along the meditation walk.”
Thomas requested sandwiches and glasses of water to be brought to her office, and over this simple lunch they talked about the clouds that seemed to be forming over Germany, clouds that appeared to have been observed with some indifference by those in power. When coffee was brought to the room, Maisie sipped from her cup and felt she knew Thomas well enough to ask a personal question.
“Were you ever married, Dr. Thomas?”
The woman smiled. “Yes, I was. I was married to one of my fellow agents, a very brave young man. His name was Dietger. I loved him dearly, but love in the midst of war is always more urgent, more undiluted by the ordinary responsibilities of marriage which most couples encounter. I was widowed when he was captured by the German army.”
“I am so sorry.”
She rubbed her upper arms, as if cold. “It is something we all lived with. He gave his life and it made me an even more determined fighter.” She untied the scarf at her neck to reveal the scar Maisie had seen when she first came to the college. “I sought my revenge, and won—but I have this to show for my trouble. I found out who was responsible for my husband’s death, and I lured him to his end. I killed him with my bare hands, and almost lost my life in return. I buried him with the strength I had left, and I went back to work.”
Maisie realized that the woman before her would continue to seek her revenge; what she had seen and done in the war had all but hollowed her heart. It was evident that Francesca Thomas would not hesitate to kill again to save the countrymen she considered her people.
You will remember that all that we have discussed must be very tightly held,” said Thomas, as Maisie departed in the late afternoon.
“I gave you my word.”
“Good.” She smiled, and whispered, “You know, the propaganda men would have everyone believe that women agents were little more than Mata Haris who gave their bodies for information. Now you know we gave our hearts—and we worked as hard and took as many chances as our men.”
Maisie walked back to her motor car, having pulled down her cloche again. She had just unlocked the MG, when, as if on cue, a black vehicle pulled up alongside. The driver stepped out and opened the back door with haste.
“Miss Dobbs—step in, please.”
Maisie locked the MG, then took a seat in the motor car, next to Brian Huntley.
“Having me followed, Mr. Huntley?”
“A fortuitous sighting as I was leaving a colleague’s office.”
“Of course it was. I was looking forward to seeing you this evening—does this mean that I won’t have the pleasure of supper with you, Mr. Huntley?”
“Sadly, it does. But I am sure you can spare some time now to assure me that you haven’t done or said anything that might run counter to your signing of the Official Secrets Act.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.”
“Any news, Miss Dobbs?”
Maisie recounted the events of the previous evening, and Robson Headley’s display of support for a regime that had not come to