There was music on the terrace of the Kursaal that evening when Andros and Elise came out from the little casino’s gaming room. Here the gardens commanded a superb view of the Alps with the city of Bern in the foreground.
“I can only thank the Maker that the boule table has a five-franc limit,” Andros said, looking up at the stars. “Between that and your little shopping sprees, Elise, you’ve drained my family fortune during our time together.”
He looked at her in the dim light of a nearby lantern. Tonight she was wearing a stylish caramel-colored suit with a white silk blouse. The jacket was padded at the shoulders and nipped tight at the waist. Her snug-fitting skirt hugged her hips. All paid for by Andros; he would pass the cost along to the OSS.
She laughed and playfully stroked the sleeve of his white dinner jacket. “But the night is young, darling, and there is so much more we can see and do.”
He thought they had done it all. He was tired of this ruse. He was tired of looking at her perfect features and scheming blue eyes. He decided to take advantage of the music and light atmosphere of the Kursaal gardens to bring up his visit to the German Legation. “Speaking of sightseeing,” he began, “I saw your friend the other morning while you were shopping.”
“I know, darling.” Her voice was sad now.
“You do?”
“Why else would he call me this afternoon and tell me to give you this?” She produced an envelope from her fashionable purse. “Oh, do open it, Chris. I’m anxious to see how much time we have to spend together.”
He opened it to see a train ticket for a one-way trip down the Simplon railway to Brindisi, an Italian port on the Adriatic. From there, said the accompanying instructions, a boat would ferry him over to Greece. In the meantime, he was to maintain his room at the Bellevue Palace Hotel, where he would return after his conference with Germany’s chief of Swiss industrial transportation, a certain Baron von Berg. Andros kept his best straight face as he looked up at Elise.
“What is it, darling?” she asked, trying to sound innocent.
He put on a brave show. “I’m afraid the money supply is low. It seems the man I need to see is in Athens.”
“But, darling, are you sure?”
He looked at the ticket. It was stamped with that day’s date: May 27, 1943. The train would leave at six. His watch told him it was already five. They weren’t giving him much time. He folded the envelope and slipped it in his suit. “I’m afraid so.”
“Oh, do be careful, Chris. I fear for you.”
“I fear for myself should I stay with you, Elise. You’re quite expensive.” He gazed at the pretty face next to him, at this vain woman of undeniable charm.
She kissed him, and it felt almost genuine. “Oh, Chris, darling. You won’t forget me?”
“How could I ever forget you, Elise?”
But he was looking at the Alps, thinking of what lay beyond. Twilight had melted the snowcapped peaks into a monolithic mound, an ominous black curtain through which he was about to pass. The other side promised another face, not quite as clear as the one next to him, but dearest to his heart.