One silver eyebrow rose in affirmation, but his jaw remained set.
Wölfle fetched a brown leather satchel from under his chair and set it on the table. “Have you ever seen this?”
It had to be Charlie’s bag, filled with Gerrit’s maps. A sudden flash in his mind—instead of answering their questions with lies, he could anticipate the questions. “No, I haven’t.”
“Picot dropped it.” Wölfle opened the bag, pulled out the silk maps, and laid them on the table.
“Is that silk?” Gerrit fingered the cloth. If only he could rub away the secret ink. “Where would Charlie get silk?”
Klein sniffed. “We believe it came from an English parachute.”
“From a crash site?” Gerrit frowned at the army officer. “It’s against the law not to report downed airmen. By penalty of death.”
Tiny eyes grew even tinier in Klein’s round face. “Why would he take it to France?”
Gerrit shrugged. “Silk would have great value on the black market, ja? Do you think he planned to sell it to ladies in France?”
“You can imagine our curiosity,” Klein said with an acidic smile. “Why would he risk the death penalty to make a few francs?”
Gerrit huffed. “He’s seventeen. What boy of seventeen expects to be captured?”
Klein brushed his hand across the top map. “Very curious.”
If these men even suspected the presence of secret ink, they’d search for a developing agent. Although they couldn’t send the maps to Germany for analysis, they still had radio contact with Berlin.
If they developed the ink, Schmeling would recognize the maps and recognize Gerrit’s hand.
Gerrit cleared his throat. “Very curious indeed.”
St. Helier
Behind his locked hotel room door that evening, Gerrit finished his sketch of the St. Helier Parish Church in black ink.
Tomorrow morning in church, he’d drop the folded sketch beside Ivy’s pew and ask her if she’d dropped it.
Since his secret ink had been burned at the farm, he had to write plainly. But he could try to conceal his words from casual scrutiny.
After he shaded the edges lightly in pencil, he wrote in the smallest possible letters within the shading.
Mijn geliefde,
Today I was interrogated. Don’t worry—I wasn’t hurt, nor was I arrested. However, with both of us under investigation, it’s best that we do not meet, and I will no longer visit our favorite spot. Also, burn this letter after reading it.
Please know I love you dearly. When all this is over, I will come to you as soon as I’m able. Then no one and nothing will keep us apart.
I will pray for you and your family, and I will trust the Lord. He is good and he is faithful, even when we can’t see it.
Gerrit leaned back in his chair and raked his hands back into his hair. If only he’d proposed. Then she’d know he meant every word of his promise.
chapter
39
St. Helier
Saturday, October 7, 1944
Ivy removed her stethoscope from Mr. Whistler’s stocky chest. “You gave us a scare with that heart attack last week, but you’re recovering well.”
