The Book of Lost Names(98)

She closed the book after drawing a dot over the first m on page 611; there weren’t enough pages left for the final e, but it would be enough to piece together the message: Marry me. I love you. As she slid it back into place, she let her hand linger on its spine, just for a second. Would Rémy find it? Would he know she loved him? Or would the book mean nothing in the end?

Just then, there was a noise at the door, and she jerked her hand away from the bookshelf. It was too late, she realized, too late for everything. As Joseph moved into the room, clutching a handgun, Eva shrank back against the wall. She had nothing to defend herself with, nothing but books. She groped behind her, and closed her hand around the spine of a heavy Bible. He would shoot her, she knew, but she didn’t want to go without a fight.

“Joseph,” she murmured.

His face twisted as he moved into the space she had once shared with Rémy. “Eva, you’re even more foolish than I thought. You came back? To the one place you knew I could find you?”

She took a deep, trembling breath. “I had to.” Even if she died here today, which she almost certainly would, Rémy would know she had loved him.

“You know, I’ve never understood you, Eva Traube, even in Paris, with your wide eyes and your nose buried in books like the world outside the pages didn’t matter. You were always an odd bird, weren’t you? And you think I didn’t see the way you looked at me? Just like all the others. I could have had you if I wanted, anytime.”

She ignored him. “What have you done, Joseph? To Geneviève? To my mother?”

There were tears in his brilliant blue eyes, just for an instant, as he looked away. “I didn’t want to hurt them, Eva. It got away from me.”

“What did? How could you do any of this, you bastard?”

When he turned back, the tears were gone, replaced by a look of steely resolve that sent a chill down her spine. “I had no choice. The Germans knew I was part of the underground. They were going to execute me, so I offered them a deal.”

“It was your idea to work for the Germans?”

“You would have done the same to save yourself.”

“No, Joseph, I wouldn’t have. Not in a million years.”

He narrowed his eyes. “They wouldn’t have offered you the chance anyhow. You’re a Jew.”

“You are, too!”

He shook his head, the traces of a smug smile playing across his lips. “My father was Catholic. My mother was only half Jewish. The Germans said I was lucky; one more drop of Jewish blood, and I would have been doomed.”

“You’re doomed anyhow, Joseph. You really think there’s a place for you in Germany if they win the war? They’ll never be able to see past your Jewish blood. And if France wins instead, well, they execute traitors.”

“You think I haven’t thought things through? The Germans have promised to pay me, enough so that I can disappear after the war and live my life.” His expression hardened. “Besides, there won’t be anyone left to tell them what I’ve done, Eva.”

She swallowed hard. “So you’re going to kill me, too, then. Just like you killed my mother.”

His face fell. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I cared about your mother, Eva, I did. She was always kind to me. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were there for Madame Barbier, and after they arrested your mother, too, they asked me if I knew her. I was going to deny it, but she begged me to help her. She even used my real name, the old fool! After that, I couldn’t deny that I knew who she was, especially because it was obvious by then that she was your mother. And she refused to tell the Germans what she knew, Eva. They might have sent her east rather than executing her if she’d told them where you’d gone. It’s her own fault.”

“None of this was her fault.” Eva choked back the lump in her throat. “And Geneviève?”

He flexed his jaw. “If things were different, maybe we would have had a chance. But I needed to know where you were. You’re my ticket to a new life, Eva. I gave them Gaudibert already. You’re the second half of the bargain. If I turn you over to the Germans, give them the Jew behind the largest forgery operation in the area, I get to live. You can see my dilemma, yes? Geneviève had information, and she refused to give it to me. I only meant to threaten her, Eva, but she was selfish. I told her that giving you up was the only thing that could save my life, and she wouldn’t do it.”

“So you shot her in the stomach and left her to die?”

“It truly is a shame that things had to end that way.”

“You’re a monster.”

He looked away. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. How could you? You Jews don’t have a future in France, but I do. Surely you see that.”

She could feel the fury inside of her surging hot and strong. She reminded herself to remain calm. “So what happens now, Joseph?”

“You tell me everything about what you’ve been doing here the past year. I know where you’re getting the papers, of course—and I’ve told the Germans all about the Algerian drops from the Allies—but how are your documents themselves so convincing? I’ve been trying to get the information from Gaudibert and Père Clément for months now, but they’re both too careful, too tight-lipped. Even under torture, Gaudibert wouldn’t give your secrets up! How are you and Rémy erasing information? How are you duplicating stamps so perfectly and so quickly, even when the Germans change their methods and their inks? What are the other networks you’re working with? Who are your contacts? The Germans need to know so that they can crack down on all the forgery bureaus like yours across France. If I bring that information to them, they’ll let me leave Aurignon, start a new life.”