September 1916, Paris, France
Evette took a deep breath before joining Monsieur McDougall at the small table outside a café. Even after three months of training and one month of following whomever he suggested, her most recent assignment had left her on edge. Her assignments always did. And she felt self-conscious sitting in a café patronized by officers and bourgeoisie civilians. One of McDougall’s associates had given her a wardrobe that helped her blend in, and today’s black brimmed hat and ankle-length dress wouldn’t reveal her peasant roots, but other things might. McDougall had assigned her a code name: Agent Sparrow. She found it fitting. Like a sparrow, she was common and tended to blend in. But what would the lieutenant’s friend think of her when they were introduced? Ordinary sparrows didn’t share cages with canaries or parakeets.
“You look lovely today,” McDougall said.
“Thank you, monsieur.”
His lips hinted at a smile. Did he find something amusing? “What did you learn of Monsieur Michel?” He kept his voice a whisper.
“He’s a heavy drinker. Two of the three nights I watched him, he sat with the same people and paid for their supper. I followed the other men, who were both staying in the Hôtel de Crillon. One of the hotel workers said they’re Swiss businessmen who often travel between Bern and Paris.”
“And from Bern they could take messages to Berlin if they wished.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything else?”
“He arrives at his office a bit past ten most mornings. Takes a leisurely break four hours later. Usually he eats, but occasionally he visits . . . um . . . a house with ladies of low repute.”
McDougall’s hand clenched into a fist, as if in triumph. “That is where we shall catch him. When his guard is down with a woman. I’ll recruit a few and have them ask all the difficult questions. Any particular woman he favors?”
“I’m not sure, sir.” Evette hoped McDougall wouldn’t ask her to find out. She preferred to keep her distance from places like that.
“Ah, here’s the friend I mentioned.”
Evette followed McDougall’s gaze to a tall Royal Flying Corps officer with sparkling brown eyes and a kind face.
McDougall stood to shake his friend’s hand. “Thanks for coming, Flynn.”
“I insisted, remember?”
McDougall ignored the remark. “Lieutenant Flynn, may I introduce Mademoiselle Evette Touny?”
He inclined his head slightly. “Pleased to meet you.”
As the two men sat, McDougall turned to Flynn and lowered his voice again. “As I was telling you at the aerodrome, having Mademoiselle Touny stay with the Donovans would be most convenient.”
“And if you were followed in the course of your counterintelligence work?” The lieutenant scrutinized her with tense eyes. His French accent was off, but she could understand him when she concentrated.
“First I would try to lose my tail, go to a more crowded area, and try to slip away. If that failed, I would try to bore them. Stand in lines, slowly eat a multicourse meal.”
The lieutenant leaned forward. “But what if the person following you is so good that you don’t notice him?”
McDougall cleared his throat. “That is rather unlikely to happen.”
Lieutenant Flynn turned to his friend. “But not impossible.”
“Perhaps you could stop fretting over the worst that could happen and help do what ought to be done.” McDougall’s voice was terse. “We are discussing matters of serious national consequence.”
“Matters which could affect Claire’s safety.”
Evette glanced at Lieutenant Flynn’s face, finally understanding his hesitation. It was in his eyes, in the way he said her name. Whoever this Claire was, the lieutenant was deeply fond of her. “I don’t want to be any trouble, and I certainly don’t want to put anyone in danger.”
“You won’t be any trouble,” McDougall said. “You are among my most competent agents in Paris. I have complete confidence in your ability to elude pursuit in the highly unlikely event that you are detected.”
“And if not?” Flynn asked.
“If not, the Donovans have a telephone with which to call the police.” McDougall tapped his fingers on the table. “Flynn, I am not asking you to force anything on the Donovans, but Miss Donovan is, after all, partially English. She may want to help.”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she should.” Flynn sat back in his seat and crossed his arms.
McDougall glanced around to ensure no one was nearby and lowered his voice even further. “This is important. The Germans have organized a system, a league for gathering information and sabotaging French factories. There is work to be done, vital work. We won’t win the war if we can’t stop this group.”
Lieutenant Flynn nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
Evette watched the airman, understanding his reluctance but hoping it wouldn’t prevent him from making a decision soon.