“Add Romanian to my list, and subtract Russian and Hungarian.Maybe I should have you teach me braille—that sounds like a brilliant way to send coded messages.”
His voice was more relaxed than she’d ever heard it.
“Why on earth are we still speaking in Dutch?” Melanie laughed. “It takes a lot of effort to keep my accent up.”
“Agreed.” Chaisley switched to English and patted her friend’s back. “But you do it quite well, I must say.”
“You both do. It’s impeccable.” Rick’s deep baritone washed over her. “I agree, English between us is much easier. Until we have need of a code.”
“Funny that you should mention codes.” She scrunched up her nose and chuckled. “We have something to teach you.”
Toulouse, France—Monday, June 20, 1938
The cool evening air outside the concert hall was a nice respite to the heat of the day. Rick paced the walkway and kept himself on the lookout for anyone suspicious while keeping a close eye on Chaisley and Melanie.
The past twelve days hadn’t given Rick any time to breathe, much less get time alone with Chaisley to try and fix what he’d broken. Their last conversation had made great strides in the right direction, but it wasn’t enough. They weren’t in the same place anymore. More than anything, he longed to repair their relationship.
It had taken her telling him to go for him to come to his senses. He couldn’t imagine life without her.
But how was he supposed to move forward?
Granted, the past two weeks had been fruitful as they’d connected with Dr. Grafton’s contacts across France and helped build a network of people willing to help house and transport people escaping Hitler. The wealthy family they’d helped leave Austria had given them a great deal of money to assist in funding theirrescue efforts, and Dr. Grafton’s contacts were some of the most remarkable people Rick had ever met. If he didn’t work for the SIS and have a job driving Chaisley, he’d march into the fire with those people.
It was a beautiful thing to see passion to stand up to the growing evil ignited.
If only more people were willing to rise up. So many cowered under fear—and he couldn’t blame them one bit. It wasn’t easy to simply survive right now.
But God was paving the way for them to continue in their rescue efforts, and it truly was miraculous to watch.
Rick couldn’t change millions of minds overnight, but he could help reach one person at a time.
So far their little band of three had communicated with contacts by telephone or letter. They kept the messages light, using flowers as their code words. This helped them know how many people would be traveling or needing shelter. Any detailed communication went to Dr. Grafton in braille, which meant Chaisley handled all of that.
A few of Dr. Grafton’s contacts wrote in braille when they needed to share details—but not regular braille. Each paragraph alternated between original braille with dashes, New York Point, and Boston Line Letter. Code words were also inserted into the text. It had worked well so far, and Rick had to dive into his crash course of braille headfirst to help out. Musical braille was a complete mystery to him since he didn’t understand musical scores, but he was willing to learn.
It had been decided that any communications into or out of Germany would be done in Chaisley’s detailed musical code. And that correspondence would remain between her, her guardian, and her grandmother.
Should a Nazi spy ever suspect any of their communications, the Nazis would do their best to decode them. Since Chaisley’sgrandmother already suspected her mail from Germany had been read, they were on high alert.
At least while they’d been in France, Rick and the two ladies hadn’t seen any tampering with their letters. Everything they’d sent out had made it to the destinations. For now.
But deep in his bones, he could feel the time was coming when that wouldn’t be the case.
Word had trickled to him from his own headquarters and encouraged him. The cease in communications had been lifted. They’d found two moles. One in Germany and one in London. Now that they were gone, things should improve. Even if just marginally. More officers and agents were being trained daily. That was a good sign.
He checked his watch as he scanned the remaining throng outside the concert hall.
People came in droves to see Chaisley perform. Crowds lined up outside the concert halls, universities, and opera houses to meet her. Word had spread like wildfire that the brilliant pianist was blind. Many people wanted to express their amazement at her talent and her ability to overcome. Some wanted to just get a glimpse of her and watch how she did it.
And, of course, there were those who frowned and criticized the masses for praising a “cripple” and an “invalid.” Two words he despised.
But the people who mattered most were the quiet ones who waited until all the others left. Who wished to speak to them in private.
Tonight, they spent more than two hours outside as Chaisley and Melanie spoke to the ones who waited.
Melanie carried a small leather notebook tucked inside a pocket of her dress. Whenever she pulled it out, Rick’s senses heightened, and he scanned the sidewalks and corners looking for anyone who might be watching with sinister motives.
He couldn’t risk anything happening to Chaisley or Melanie.
