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Lucas was not sure if that was a greater blow to Charles than the fact that he had not known. Should Lucas tell him the truth, that Josephine had done her own secret work in the war? If they did not get Elena back…He wanted to block out the thought, but his mind refused. If she did not come back, they would need one another more than ever before. It would be too late then to mend untruths. There was no time for lies at all, of any sort.
“I didn’t tell her,” he said very quietly. “But I found out in the last few days that she knew. She did her own work during the war, decoding work. Secret stuff as well.”
“You knew.” It sounded almost like an accusation.
“I had to. We used much of her decoding work in our own.” He looked at the hurt in Charles’s face, a sudden confirmation of the exclusion he had imagined for so long. Lucas reached a hand toward Charles, who ignored it. “It was for everyone’s protection. No one should have to bear the weight of another person’s secrets, of the decisions that go wrong, the deaths you can’t prevent. And I wanted to protect you from ever being suspected should a careless word from someone lead to problems.” He leaned a little farther forward. “Do you tell Katherine every secret grief or betrayal you know about? Every suspicion you have of incompetence? Would you tell Margot, or Elena?”
“No, of course not,” Charles said hotly. “But you could have told me after you left.”
“I know. And I’m sorry.” Lucas meant it. He regretted it deeply. Perhaps they were so different, they had grown so far apart, that they could not now be reconciled.
“Or have you really left?” Charles asked. There was accusation in his voice, and hurt at discovering Lucas had held more power and more secrets than he ever would. “Have you left?” he repeated.
“Yes, I have. I get bits of news now and then, but no action. I mean it. I miss it, but I don’t have the ability anymore, or the trust of any but a very few of the people I used to work with who are still there.” It hurt, putting it like that, so final. He could not tell Charles about Peter Howard. That knowledge was not his to share.
Charles was silent for a few moments. When he spoke at last, his voice was tight, as if his whole chest hurt. “Is this because Elena hasn’t come back yet? You’re telling me…in case…in case she doesn’t?” His face was too full of fear for there to be any room in it for anger.
Lucas’s mind raced. One second, two…he had already taken too long. An honest denial would have been instant. If he had to wonder how to phrase it, then it was not the truth.
“I tried to find her,” Lucas said quietly. “Sent a man out. But it seems your daughter is very resourceful, and apparently violent, when needs must.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Charles burst out. “If you had said Margot, I’d have believed you, but not Elena! She hasn’t the—”
“It seems they are less different than you think…than we all thought.”
Charles leaned his elbows on the table and put his head in his hands.
Lucas did not say anything. Words would only make it look as if he did not understand.
The waiter came and he waved him away.
“I’ve got to be able to do something!” Charles said desperately. “I’ve got contacts, favors I can draw on.”
“We both have,” Lucas said gently. “But things have changed since you or I knew Berlin. She’s got someone helping her. We could make it worse.” He hesitated. He had to tell Charles the whole truth now. “And loyalties change. We have at least one traitor in the ranks. Telling the people we used to trust could put her in more danger.”
“Not the people I would ask!” Charles said angrily.
“Charles! People change, pressures change. We all have hostages to fortune. Let it be!”
Charles stared at Lucas long and steadily, as if searching for honesty in his face. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be.”
At last Charles seemed satisfied. “Finally, the truth. It makes sense of so many things. I can’t even argue with it. Katherine never asks me about the sensitive stuff. She knows I can’t tell her. Wish I could. Sometimes it’s lonely, especially if you don’t know if you’ve made the right decision—or the wrong one. Far more often…I don’t know. Were you always sure you were right?”
“No.”
“How do you live with it?” It was an honest question.
“One day at a time. Talk to the dog a lot,” Lucas replied with a half smile. “Dogs are endlessly patient, and they never repeat anything.”
At last Charles smiled, but there were tears in his eyes. “I think I’ll get a dog,” he said quietly. “God knows, I need one.”
CHAPTER
30
It was already early dusk when Elena and Walter reached the railway station in Berlin. It was crowded, but it did not take Elena more than moments to pick out the police at every entrance, and at platform ticket collection points. There were also Brownshirts, even more easily recognizable, all heavily armed.
