Audra Vollmer was no invalid. She stood on the opposite end of the room in front of a large mahogany desk, smiling broadly. Her posture was upright, her brown eyes clear and alert. She wore a navy business suit, as if she might have just returned from a day at the office, and her gray hair was pulled back tightly in a bun. She was considerably older than either Claire or Anna’s mom.
She opened her arms and called them forward.
“It is such a relief and a joy to see you!”
Anna, approaching with Henry in her wake, held out her arms as well, but instead of a hug there was an awkward clasping of hands. Still, Audra’s smile seemed genuine, and it was a second or two before she let go.
“You are the image of your mother. Did she ever tell you about us?”
“No. Nothing. I hardly know anything about that part of her life, except from what I’ve read in your letters.”
The smile seemed on the verge of collapsing, and she drew away a hand to dab at her eyes.
“Yes. And now it’s only me, I’m afraid.” She walked behind her desk. Henry saw a handheld radio on the corner, presumably for summoning any of her people at a moment’s notice. She gestured for them to be seated on a couch to their left, and then rolled her office chair around to the same side of the desk to face them.
“And this is Henry Mattick, the one who’s been helping me.”
“Yes,” Audra replied. “I know all about Henry and his help.”
Odd phrasing, he thought. A little ominous. He wondered if she would ask him to leave. But she didn’t object when he took a seat next to Anna.
“Well, then,” she said. “Let’s see what we can do about righting these wrongs that have taken away my two dearest colleagues. And also your father, dear girl.”
“Where should we begin?” Anna sounded breathless, and who could blame her? Finally she was in touch with her mother’s past, not just through a letter or a tape recording, but in the flesh.
“I thought I would leave that up to you. I’m assuming that you have lots of questions, and while in some cases I won’t be allowed to answer them, I’m happy to tell you what I’m able.” Another odd statement, Henry thought. Would Audra really withhold information from Helen’s daughter simply because it was still officially classified? But Anna seemed unfazed.
“What was my mom’s job in Berlin? Her duties?”
“She was a keeper of safe houses. Four of them. It was a desk job, when what she really wanted was to be in the field. I’d had the same ambitions once, so I understood her frustration.”
“How did she end up making the tapes?”
“On both occasions she just happened to be testing the equipment when the others arrived, unannounced. Or so she explained it to Claire and me. Quite extraordinary, really.”
“The woman, Frieda, who was raped. Was she Anneliese Kurz?”
“You’ve done your homework. Yes, it was Anneliese, whose murder is still officially unsolved. Have you seen the name of the only eyewitness on the original police report?”
“No.”
“Kurt Delacroix.” Anna’s mouth fell open. “Yes. His association with Kevin Gilley goes back quite a ways.”
“They manipulated my brother, with drugs and God knows what kind of lies. We have proof of it now.”
“I suspected as much the moment I heard what had happened. It’s how Gilley has always operated—by careful use of the orchestrated accident, or the unwitting surrogate. He fancies himself an artist in that way.”
“An artist?”
“Yes. An old hand in Athens once overheard him compare his work to that of a pointillist painter. Thousands of dots upon a canvas of his own choosing, each carefully rendered to form an illusion of suicide, or some other act of misfortune. Anything less elaborate would have wounded his vanity. That’s probably what has saved your lives up to now. The case of Anneliese Kurz taught him that. Act hastily and someone will be tracking your scent right away, just as your mother tracked his. You’re so much like her, you know. In your tenacity above all. Good work.”
“But do you think it will actually do any good?”
“That will depend in large part on the materials you’ve brought me.”
Anna turned to Henry, who zipped open his bag and withdrew the padded envelope. He handed it to Audra, who accepted it without looking him in the eye.
First she pulled out the two reports detailing Gilley’s rapes in Paris and Marseille. She then removed the smaller envelopes and read the dated labels from the Alt-Moabit safe house in Berlin. She smiled, looking immensely pleased, and turned back toward Anna.
“Am I to gather you’ve listened to these tapes? To both of them?”
There was a hint of steel in her words, and for the first time Henry detected a flicker of uncertainty in Anna’s eyes. She paused, so Henry rushed into the breach.
“We wanted to, but we didn’t have the right equipment.”
“Yes,” Anna played along. “We were hoping you’d have a way for us to hear them.”
Audra held her gaze.
“You’re having doubts about me, aren’t you.” A statement, not a question. “Because of him, I’m guessing.” She nodded toward Henry.
“Not doubts, really.” Anna smiled nervously. “That’s Henry’s department.”
“Henry’s actions have gone well beyond the realm of doubt, dear girl. The word for him would be duplicity. But you weren’t trained to notice these things the way your mother and I were, so you can be forgiven for taking a serpent to your breast.”
“Serpent? If you’re talking about the work he did before my parents were killed, he’s already come clean about that.”
“Has he, now? And did he also tell you about Mitch, the fellow in Washington who he continues to report to, day after day?”
Anna turned toward Henry, confusion giving way to dismay.
“Is that true?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Predictable that he’d say that,” Audra said. “Just as predictably, I’m guessing that he has already tried to poison you against me. For his own purposes, of course.”
“She’s only telling you half the story,” Henry said.
“Half of what story?” Anna’s voice rose. “Who are you still working for, and why?”
“We should go,” Henry said. “She’s lying for her own damn reasons, and we should leave while we can.”
He stood, already glancing toward the door where he’d last seen the goon Lloyd lurking. Audra picked up the handheld radio and pressed a button.
“Lloyd? It’s time.”
“So you’re not denying it, then?” Anna said to Henry.
“How do you think she knows all this?” Audra’s words and actions had made several things clear to him, and none of them boded well for their survival. “And who do you think this guy Mitch really works for? He works for Audra. That’s how she knows I’ve been calling him.”
“So she’s right, then. You’ve been lying.”
“To protect you, which is what I’m trying to do now. We need to leave!”
He grabbed her arm. She shook him off. Lloyd appeared in the doorway, holding the gun in his right hand.
“The boats are coming,” he shouted. “What should we do, ma’am?”
“Patience, Lloyd. Let it play out as planned.”
Lloyd nodded and disappeared.
“What boats?” Anna said. “What’s happening?”
Henry heard them now, engines buzzing across the water, moving closer to the island. The fruits of his nocturnal labors were paying off.
“Your friend Henry would tell you that it’s a rescue party. The one he arranged for last night over the phone at the motel. I warned you to not use the Wi-Fi, but of course he ignored that. Not that we wouldn’t have picked up the signal from our van. So you see, Henry? We were prepared. Come with me, then, both of you. We’ll deal with Henry first. Then you and I, Anna, shall have a long chat.”
“Then she’ll kill you, too,” Henry said. “She certainly can’t afford to let you leave. Not now.”
Anna, whose confusion gave way to a look of horror, shook her head.
“There’s no need to kill him! Not on my account.”
“It will be entirely on my account, I assure you.” She pressed the button on the radio. “I need you back in here now, Lloyd.”
Henry edged toward the door, wondering when the goon would return. He was about to make a run for it when someone else appeared in the doorway—a woman, trim build, late middle age, hair cut short, with black tights dripping water onto the floor. She held a gun that looked a lot like Lloyd’s, and pointed it at Audra.
“Hello, Audra. Put down the radio and step away from your desk.”
Audra’s reply was almost a croak.
“Claire? But…”
“Do it now, please. I don’t want to shoot you, but you know I will. Now!”
Audra dropped the radio with a clatter and robotically stepped forward.
“Never fuck with a field operative, Audra. That’s something you pencil pushers always forget. Your gorilla is handcuffed and out cold, by the way. Worst-trained muscle I’ve ever seen.” She turned toward Anna. “Hello. I’m Claire Saylor. Your mother asked me to look after you, so as soon as we’re finished here you can come with me.”
“What about him?” Anna nodded toward Henry.
“Oh, he’s one of the white hats, although he probably didn’t know for certain until a moment ago. ‘Need to know’ is a brutal rule to live by. Am I right, Mr. Mattick?”
“Yes,” he said, thinking fast. “The abduction in York. That whole thing with your car.”
“Staged.”
“What about all those boats she was just talking about?”
“Most of hers never left the marina. And the one that did is now at the bottom of the sound. Oh, and you both should know that Kurt Delacroix is in custody, down at the end of the dock, with that cat of hers rubbing against his ankles, just to piss him off.”
Anna looked warily at Henry, as if still uncertain of his loyalty. He nodded, to reassure her that everything was finally okay. This time he even believed it, if only because of the gleam of triumph in Claire Saylor’s eyes.
Claire crossed the room to Audra, who had sagged to her knees.
“Anna, could you please help me tie up this scheming bitch?”
The words snapped Anna out of her fog, and she sprang into action. Outside, the boat engines had gone silent, and a voice on a bullhorn blared, “FBI! Drop your weapons!”
Claire and Anna got to work.