Engel didn’t speak on the short drive to the clinic as he sat beside her in the car. The car was accompanied by two motorcycle outriders who then stood at the entrance to the property as Engel and Fitz climbed out.
There was no point even thinking about trying to flee, Fitz knew she wouldn’t get very far and, if anything, it would only signal her guilt.
She followed Engel up the steps to the entrance of the building, and the two soldiers walked closely behind her. At the front door, Fitz paused briefly, looking upwards, squinting at the coolwintery sun. Would this be the last time she’d see a crisp clear sky? Would she ever get to experience flying up above the clouds again?
She drew in a deep breath, savouring the moment, envisaging herself in the cockpit of a Spitfire, dashing through the sky, looking down at the greens and browns of the land below her.
Then she was being jostled into the building where it was just as cold, if not colder, than outside and the shutters kept out the light. It wasn’t only the dip in temperature within the building that made Fitz shiver – there was something else, a chilling, malevolent sensation that wrapped itself around her, squeezing her ribcage, tightening her windpipe, and making her heart thud.
A clinic before the war, Fitz didn’t allow her imagination to conjure up all the instruments available to the Gestapo to persuade a person to talk. Instead, she thought of all the people she’d loved in life, her mother, her father, little Michael, darling Sam, and dear sweet Yvette. She wouldn’t let them down. She’d be brave and face whatever was coming to her. She could and would endure her fate.
To her surprise, Fitz was taken into a room that appeared to be an office. Engel indicated for her to sit at a chair on one side of a large walnut desk, while he opened the shutters and flooded the room with light. One side of the wall was lined with bookshelves and opposite were three filing cabinets. Fitz assumed she was in what would normally be a consulting room.
Engel took the seat opposite and lit a cigarette. He offered one to Fitz, but she declined.
‘So, Claudine Bardot,’ began Engel. ‘Do you want to start by telling me your real name?’
‘Claudine Bardot is my real name,’ replied Fitz. She was sure Engel was just taking a shot in the dark on this. It was one ofthe first questions she had been coached in replying to at SOE training.
Engel waved his hand as if shooing a fly away. ‘Very well, we don’t have to waste time on the little game of your name. I will find out soon enough.’ He smiled but not in the way that conveyed any kind of sympathy. Quite the opposite. ‘So, as I’m sure you are aware, Colonel Hoffmann is missing.’ Engel paused.
‘I wasn’t entirely aware,’ replied Fitz. ‘I did think it was strange he wasn’t in his room this morning but assumed he had been called away and hadn’t wanted to disturb me.’
‘He was last seen with you,’ said Engel. ‘Going up to his room.’
Fitz nodded. ‘Yes. We decided to retire from the party a little early. Rolf … I mean, Colonel Hoffmann, was keen to get back to his room and requested I accompany him.’
Engel gave a chuckle. ‘You make it sound very civilised.’
Fitz offered a slightly confused expression. ‘It was exactly that. Colonel Hoffmann is a very charming man.’
‘And when you arrived in Hoffmann’s room, what happened?’
‘Pardon?’
‘I don’t mean that,’ said Engel. ‘I mean, what happened? How did you lure Hoffmann away from his room? Who helped you?’
‘I didn’t lure him with anything,’ said Fitz. ‘We went to sleep quite soon after getting back to his room.’
Engel jumped to his feet and slammed his hand down on the desk, causing Fitz to flinch. ‘Stop playing games,’ he shouted. ‘Either you tell me or I will make you tell me. What happened to Colonel Hoffmann last night?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ replied Fitz. She didn’t have to inject a nervous wobble into her voice, it came naturally.
‘You can make this as pleasant or as unpleasant as you like,’ replied Engel. ‘It doesn’t matter to me.’
‘I don’t know any more than you do, Herr Engel,’ said Fitz. ‘If I did, I would of course tell you. I’m very concerned about Colonel Hoffmann if he is missing.’ She wondered if she’d overplayed it with the last sentence.
‘You are very fond of the child, aren’t you?’ said Engel, catching Fitz off guard at the turn in conversation.
‘Yes, of course I am.’ Fitz tried to remain relaxed. She hadn’t expected Engel to bring Yvette into this quite so soon. She could only hope that someone had taken Yvette to safety already. Maybe the family who Margot mentioned before.
‘We are currently looking into her identity and exactly how she is related to Monsieur Philippe Tebow. I’m concerned that she might have been travelling with you under false pretences.’
Fitz shrugged. ‘I can assure you,HerrEngel, that you will be wasting your time. Everything will be in order just as I said before.’
Engel gave a small smile. ‘Let’s hope so.’ He sat down at his desk again, his anger appeared to have been replaced by a more settled countenance. ‘A few days ago we picked up two members of the resistance, Bernard Gareau and André Dacier. They came into the country with a woman who, thus far, we haven’t found, but I suspect we are very close.’
Fitz maintained her impassive expression. Inwardly, her heart was racing. ‘You did mention that at dinner the other night,’ she said.
