The Book of Lost Names(66)

Geneviève turned pink. “It’s not his real name, Eva, only his code name. In any case, I’m very sorry. I’m only making conversation.”

“I know. I’m being too cautious.” Geneviève’s deep brown eyes were sparkling with tears, so Eva added, “And to answer your question, I was a student in English literature.”

Geneviève wiped her eyes and smiled. She seemed to realize that the words had been a concession. The truth was, Eva had probably shared too much, but there were plenty of schools in Paris, which would make her much harder to track, even if someone had that information.

“And you?” Eva asked after a moment. “I only know that you come from the Plateau.”

“I—” Geneviève began, but they were interrupted by the door to the secret library cracking open behind them. They both scrambled instantly to hide the ration cards under the books scattered on the table; it was Eva’s reaction every time the door opened when she wasn’t expecting a visitor. She and Geneviève were fish in a barrel.

But danger hadn’t arrived today. Instead, it was Joseph standing there. “I’m very sorry for startling you ladies,” he said, stepping all the way in and pulling the door closed behind him. “Père Clément gave me his key.”

Geneviève looked quizzically at Eva as Joseph gave the dark-haired girl an appraising once-over. Eva realized they hadn’t yet met, though Geneviève had become a part of Eva’s day-to-day life. “Geneviève, this is… Gérard Faucon.” It was still strange to call him by the code name, which didn’t fit the Joseph she’d known in Paris. “And, um, Gérard, this is Geneviève Marchand, my new partner.”

“Ah.” Joseph crossed the room, picked up Geneviève’s hand, and kissed it gently, gallantly. He smiled first at Eva, then at Geneviève, and Eva had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at Geneviève’s reaction. The other woman had turned red and was tittering nervously and fluttering her long lashes. “I had no idea Eva’s new partner was so beautiful,” Joseph added with a grin. “I would have come calling sooner.”

Geneviève giggled. “It’s nice to meet you, Monsieur Faucon.”

“And you, mademoiselle. Please, call me Gérard.”

“Very well. Only if you call me Geneviève.”

“It would be my honor. Now, Geneviève, I hope you’ll excuse me if I borrow Eva for a moment.”

“Certainly.” Geneviève was still the color of a tomato.

“Very well, I’ll return her in no time.”

Joseph led Eva out of the library and gestured to a pew. “We won’t look suspicious if anyone comes in,” he said. “Just two lovers here to pray for peace.”

His words rubbed her the wrong way; was there no other reason a man and a woman could be together in a church? But Joseph’s eyes were dark, his expression serious, and she knew something was wrong. “What is it, Joseph?”

He waited until they were kneeling side by side, pretending to pray. “There were some arrests made in Annecy a few days ago. Your forgery partner, Rémy, was among those picked up.”

Suddenly, she couldn’t breathe. “What?”

“He was escorting a group of children to Switzerland. His papers did not pass muster when he was questioned.”

“Joseph, is he—?” She couldn’t say it.

He looked blankly at her.

“Dead?” She forced the word out. “Did they execute him?”

“No, no. They’re questioning him now, along with the woman he was with.”

The woman he was with. Certainly it was just another passeur, but the words made Eva’s stomach twist with jealousy. She wondered fleetingly if that had been Joseph’s intention. “And the children?” she managed to ask.

“They’re fine. He was arrested on his way back across the border, after seeing them safely across.”

“But—I thought he was working with explosives for the underground.”

Joseph shrugged. “He was. He has experience crossing, though, and we needed someone who knew what he was doing. We just didn’t expect that it would be his papers that would trip him up.” He shrugged again, and Eva’s face burned with shame.

“But how?” she asked. “How could the papers possibly not work?”

“The Nazis are getting savvier, Eva.”

“Well, of course. That’s why we’ve been using the Journal Officiel.” It had seemed foolproof; for months they’d been crafting unimpugnable identities.

“Sadly, he was using the identity of someone a local gendarme knew. And thus, the gendarme knew the young man had been killed in a farm accident last year.”

“Oh my God,” she murmured, the full weight of it crashing down on her.

“Look, Eva, I know this is a setback.” Joseph put his arm around her shoulder. “But we must think of the future. I’ll speak with Père Clément, too, but the two of you and Geneviève should lie low for the next several days.”

She blinked at him. “Why?”

“In case Rémy gives you up.”

Angry tears rushed to Eva’s eyes. “He would never do that.”