Anyone paying attention knew how desperately Hitler wanted his home country to return to the German motherland.RealAustrians were German speaking and of German blood. Rick had heard that too many times.
Gratitude welled in his soul that he’d gotten out of Germany before the Anschluss, when Hitler annexed the smaller country into his. But when Rick heard that many of the Austrians had celebrated Hitler’s takeover of their country, he’d felt sick. Heartbroken. Austria thought it was gaining freedom. They must have had no idea what could be coming.
And if they did, shame on them.
Shame on themallfor allowing hatred and discrimination to continue.
He swiped a hand down his face and glanced at the clock. Thirty minutes had passed. Maybe he wouldn’t receive this new job today. Even though it was his assignment. If not, he should track down his contact and see if he should get a different job. Was the assignment gone? Had something changed? He stood and walked to the door—
It opened in a whoosh.
“Mr. Zimmerman, my apologies.” The thick Dutch accent matched the man’s thick belly. “I have exciting news for you, but it was tedious to confirm and then double-check on your credentials before I could offer you the job.”
“Oh?” This sounded promising. The higher-up the client he was assigned to drive around, the better the information he could obtain. Not that the man in front of him would know why he wasreallyworking here.
The man slid a folder across the desk as he took his seat. “It would mean a great deal of travel for you, but if you are amenable, the job will be generally easy and prestigious as well.”
Easy? Prestigious? Rick opened the folder and read the top page, his shoulders stiffening. He scanned the paper, rubbed his chin, then read it again. No. He wasn’t misreading things.
He wouldn’t be driving for a diplomat. Or even some mid-level government official somewhere. He laid the folder down and looked at the man. “You wish me to drive for aconcert pianist?” It was impossible to keep the derision out of his words.
The man grinned from ear to ear. “Haven’t you heard of Chaisley Frappier? The world’s most renowned concert pianist? She is said to be the very best of the best. She can play the most complicated of Liszt pieces with the panache and flair of Chopin.”
Irritation grated his chest, and he wanted to bolt out of the chair and march out of the office. He didn’t care if she could play Tchaikovsky with her toes. Why would he be assigned here? This was a job for an entry-level agent.
Okay. Deep breath. He was supposed to be a highly qualified man looking for work, not a disgruntled British spy upset that he’d been pulled out of the thick of things in Berlin. With his cover, he had no right to be turning down a job during these times.
He couldn’t let his pride get in the way of doing a job his contact had chosen for him. After all, he was out of Germany for a while,and that was a relief. He schooled his features, scooted forward on his chair, and grabbed the folder again. “She sounds fascinating.”
“She is. And who wouldn’t appreciate getting to chauffeur the greatest pianist in the world?”
Thank heaven the man studied some other papers on his desk and wasn’t watching Rick’s reaction. The piles of papers were each a foot high, and Rick counted eight that he could see.
“Indeed.”
Perhaps there was significance to some of the locations of the concerts? Or to the pianist herself? She was from England, but there had to be something more if they were putting an agent on her. Wait. His new boss just said she was the most renowned concert pianist—which meant she would be playing for big audiences ... prestigious audiences. That must be the key.
He took a deep breath—no way to find out except taking the job and listening in. Time to do what he was trained to do. “I can’t say that I know much about famous musicians, sir. But I’ll take the job. And do whatever is necessary to ensure that she gets to where she needs to go on time.”
“Good, good.” His new “boss” steepled his fingers together. The man seemed completely unaware that his new driver was an SIS agent.
Rick had to keep it that way.
In addition to the other elements of his cover, he was also supposed to lack higher education. Being a driver made him non-threatening, since most people got into the car and ignored the person behind the wheel. This hoity-toity musician wouldn’t be any different.
The man behind the desk pulled his thick glasses from his bulbous nose and cleaned them with his tie. “Your references were impressive, so don’t let me down. One of the owners said you would be the man for the job.” He waved at a fly buzzing around his head. “Isn’t it exciting to be a part of something so grand?”
“Grand?”
“This tour is to bring unity and hope across war-torn Europe. Almost all of the concerts have been sold out for weeks, and the tour lasts for eighteen months.”
“Eighteen months?” Surely he wouldn’t have to drive this woman around for a year and a half! He’d be bored out of his mind. His skills were needed elsewhere, weren’t they? Why him? “Is that normal for a ... pianist?”
Now his boss looked more than a little miffed. “Isn’t that acceptable to you? With unemployment rates skyrocketing across Europe, most men would love to have a job that gave them peace of mind for that long.”
The jab hit its mark. Agents were supposed to be shadows. Not perceptible to the average citizen. He couldn’t afford to make this man take undue note of him. “Of course, it’s acceptable. Thank youverymuch. I was simply shocked to hear that a pianist could tour for that long.”
The man sniffed. “Not many government officials and leaders will pass up the opportunity to hear her play.” He settled his glasses back on his face and folded his arms over his belly. “Word is, Queen Wilhelmina herself will be graced with a private concert.”
