Page 47 of The Secret Librarian
‘Stop. I told you I would do it, and I haven’t changed my mind. I understand the risks.’
Avery’s eyes were wide; Camille could tell she was trying very hard to be brave.
‘We have the chance to do something that matters, you’ve shown me that now,’ said Avery. ‘I’m not saying I’m not scared, because I’m terrified, but this war needs to end, and if I can play a small part in doing something about it ...’
Camille reached for her hand. ‘I’m so pleased I met you, Avery. You’re nothing at all like I expected.’
Avery squeezed her hand back. ‘What do we do next?’
‘You keep doing what you’re doing, and when there’s another Jewish family needing my help, we work quickly to forge the visas,’ Camille said. ‘Between the two of us, we’ll be able to do a few documents within an evening if we work all night.’
‘Then that’s what we’ll do. The PVDE be damned,’ Avery said. ‘And I’m not just taking photographs and developing them for you, I’ll do anything. My penmanship is excellent, I just need you to show me what to do.’
Camille only hoped that Avery knew exactly what she was getting herself into.
‘Camille, should I be scared of your Kiefer?’ Avery asked.
‘No, I don’t think so,’ she replied. ‘You let me worry about Kiefer.’
‘You believe that he’ll help you to find out who killed your husband?’
Camille closed her eyes, her skin crawling at the thought of what she’d done, of what she’d endured, in her efforts to uncover more about the double agent she was searching for. ‘I do. I would never have done what I have if I didn’t believe with all my heart that he could lead me closer to what I’m searching for. We just have to be careful. Promise me you’ll be careful.’
‘I promise you, Camille. There’s too much at stake to get caught.’
Chapter Fifteen
Camille
Camille kept her eyes shut and her breathing even as Kiefer got out of bed, wanting him to believe she was still asleep. She listened as he stretched and padded across the room into the adjoining bathroom, knowing that she was going to have to time it perfectly to look through his things before he came back.
She had the distinct feeling that she was running out of time. That if she didn’t find something soon, she’d lose her chance, especially with Lourenço Santos breathing down her neck at every turn. It also felt like something bigger now; that it was about more than just Hugo. She didn’t want anyone else to be betrayed like she and Hugo had been, and the only thing she despised more than the enemy was a traitor.
When she heard the door click shut, she pushed the covers back and rose, tiptoeing across the room and hovering beside his things. He always took his clothes off and placed them in a specific order, and she looked carefully over everything to make sure she could put it all back in its place once she’d finished.
First she checked his jacket, keeping one ear on the bathroom to make certain she could hear him. The water was running, butshe knew how easily he could deceive her if he suspected what she was doing. She pushed her hand into each pocket, but all she found was an engraved metal case, and a quick glance inside showed a few cigarettes and nothing more. She closed the case and slipped it back inside his jacket, pausing to listen and glance up again before reaching for his trousers.
Bingo.
She pulled out a photograph, and a piece of paper that was folded down into quarters. The room was dark, and she took a risk in dashing to the window and pulling back the heavy velvet drape to see what she was in possession of. If he came out of the bathroom now, she’d have to hide what she had until she could get them back in his trousers, and she knew that would prove almost impossible.
The photograph was of a woman and a very young girl, both blonde with bright smiles, staring straight into the camera. She cringed, knowing that it was probably his wife, despite the fact he’d insisted when they met that he wasn’t married. She moved on to the note.
It was a letter, and as she slowly read the words in German, she realised that this too was a personal item, not the incriminating evidence she’d hoped for.
‘Did you find what you were looking for?’
Camille froze. Her pulse ignited as she looked up to find Kiefer standing in the doorway to the bathroom; like a wolf that had found an intruder in its lair.
‘Kiefer, I can explain ...’ she began, quickly glancing around the room and trying to find something, anything, that she could use as a weapon.
Kiefer was dressed only in a towel, which was wrapped around his waist, and he came towards her, slowly, one hand raised.
She stayed silent and took a few steps backwards, but he simply sat down on the bed and gestured for her to pass him what wasin her hand. Camille hesitantly shuffled forward, dropping the photograph and letter to the bed between them, without getting close enough for him to grab hold of her. His expression was impossible to decipher.
‘Is this what you expected to find when you rifled through my pockets?’ he asked.
Camille blinked. He’d caught her red-handed, but she wasn’t going down that easily.
