The Librarian Spy(25)



“Here.” Nicole handed Elaine a stack of envelopes. “These are all to be delivered up there.”

Elaine gazed up, up, up at the winding incline of Montée de la Grande C?te, a narrow street with narrower walkways on either side, shimmering with moisture from a recent rainstorm. The brown buildings stretched up to the sky, and stone-arched windows from an ancient time dotted their bland faces. Elaine hastily slid the pile into the secret bottom of her basket.

By late afternoon, the task was complete, and Elaine descended the steep slanting road, careful to ensure her shoes did not slip on the damp cobblestones. The sheen of sweat on her brow chilled in the cool breeze, a glorious reprieve after her exertions.

Her stomach pinched with hunger and in those moments of quiet reflection, she found her thoughts once more drifting to the plates of food left behind by the Nazis earlier that day. Denise and Josette arrived at nearly the same time as Elaine approached the bookshop. Suddenly, a Nazi officer emerged from a nearby café, his back ramrod straight with authority as he glanced about the street.

Josette gave a little squeak and tripped on the walkway. Though she staggered and her free arm flailed, she was no match for the wet surface slicking the pavement and she careened to the ground.

As her basket struck the cobblestones, its false bottom fell open and an envelope tumbled out.

The German looked toward the commotion, his gaze going sharp.

All at once, Nicole appeared in front of Josette and waved to the Nazi. “Pardon, monsieur.”

His expression shifted from one of suspicion to one of interest as he strode confidently toward her. Nicole sashayed closer, blocking Josette and allowing the flustered woman the opportunity to reclaim the spilled envelope and snap the scared rabbit look from her face.

The German did not notice. “Oui, madam? What may I do for you?” he asked in broken French.

“Do you have a light?” Nicole drew a slim silver cigarette case from her handbag.

“Of course.” The officer pulled a box of matches from his pocket, the contents giving a delicate rattle.

Nicole opened her case and giggled. “Do you have a cigarette as well? I appear to be out.”

The charade was almost laughable if Josette’s slip had not put them all in such terrible danger.

Without hesitation, the Nazi presented an orange pack of Sulimas to Nicole. He shook two sticks free, lighting first hers, then his own.

Nicole pursed her red lips and slowly blew out a billow of gray smoke. “Merci, monsieur.” After gifting him with a winning smile, she sauntered away, leaving him staring after her.

In the time the exchange took place, Josette managed to collect herself and walked with Denise past the apartment as Elaine crossed the street, keeping her distance so as not to show they were together.

“Ah, Elaine, there you are, ma chérie,” Nicole called out, waving her hand as though they were simply friends meeting up with one another.

She took Elaine’s arm and led her in the direction Denise and Josette had gone, stopping when they rounded the corner. The street was empty, with most women having returned home after a day of waiting in queues for their rations. It would be Elaine’s turn to queue for food tomorrow, a familiar task she was already dreading.

Nicole sucked in a long inhale of the cigarette, her eyes closing in pleasure. But as she exhaled a stream of smoke, she stubbed it out on the bottom of her shoe.

“Such commodities are too valuable to waste,” she explained. “I send as much as I can to my brother and father in Germany. My hope is that...” Her lips pressed together as she pulled out her silver case and slid the black-tipped cigarette into the empty container before replacing it in her handbag. “I hope the things I can spare will be enough to get them through this awful war.”

“I’m sure it will.” Elaine knew nothing of the camps where the soldiers were imprisoned, especially when she had been left ignorant in the months Joseph forbade anything pertaining to the Resistance. But the wounded plea in Nicole’s gaze compelled Elaine to offer some reassurance, even such a simple platitude.

Nicole pulled up her sleeve slightly to reveal a small mole just over the crook of her elbow. “My father has the same.” She smiled fondly as she gazed at her own arm. “Do you see the heart?”

It was a bit of a stretch to make out a heart in the mole, but when the idea was put in one’s mind, the shape became recognizable. Elaine nodded. “I do.”

Nicole’s smile broadened, and she pulled the sleeve of her sweater lower to cover it once more.

“I can’t believe you are still using that tired, out-of-cigarettes trick.” Denise shook her head with playful censure and joined them with a downtrodden Josette at her side.

The worried expression on Nicole’s face brightened into one of confident victory, like a light switch being flipped on. “It’s only tired if it stops working.” She patted her purse. “I assure you, it is still quite effective.” With a wink toward Elaine, she added, “It works every time.”

Denise cast her eyes heavenward as they found the entrance to another doorway and traversed a series of traboules and stairs. Eventually, they returned to the courtyard of Rue d’Algérie. A quick glance in the letterbox revealed a small message addressed to Elaine. She snatched it out, her heart doing a flip. Once in the safety of the apartment, she ripped open the envelope, recognizing Etienne’s slanted writing straight away. Unfortunately, the note was not about Joseph as Elaine had hoped.

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