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Aiden let his breath out slowly, and his lips curved in a very slight smile. “You could behave like a fool with the best of them,” he said. “It was your saving grace, because you were insufferably clever…at times. I don’t know whether you have the courage or not…” He let it hang, waiting to see what she would do.

Or was it to see what she felt, if she had the nerve, even the loyalty? Did he wonder if she was still in love with him? Did he care? She had made such a fool of herself over him and yet, in a strange way, she was right: he had been loyal to England. She could not pretend that she had known that.

It was irrelevant now. She was a photographer! She needed none of her university education, nor the languages she had acquired, unless she used them as a spy.

It was at once absurd and, in the end, the only reality: a matter of life and death. “Doesn’t your survival depend on being able to judge who to trust, and who not to?” she asked. “Can’t you think of a way to use me? That’s unlike you.” She kept the bitterness out of her voice…didn’t she? Why was she even allowing it into her mind?

He started to say something, then changed his mind. “If we get into trouble, I might not be able to save you.”

She laughed outright.

“I mean it!” he said sharply, a flicker of anger in his eyes.

“Of course you do,” she agreed. “I realized that quite a while ago. Really, Aiden, do you think that Peter Howard would have sent me if I were that half-witted?”

He hesitated again, carefully searching her face. “Right! We are looking to find Max, if we can, or at least discover what happened to him. But that’s secondary. We’ve got to get the list out of Trieste and back to Howard.” Suddenly he smiled; it lit his eyes, changing his whole aspect. “Like old times,” he said softly.

For a moment, she was in the past again, as hand in hand they had raced along the narrow spit of sand between Holy Island and the mainland, the tide closing in on them from both sides, swiftly, with ocean strength. They had made it with nothing to spare, feet wet in the first waves that joined to cut off their path. They had fallen on the dry sand, in the sun, holding on to each other, laughing, gasping for breath.

“What are they playing for, Aiden?” she asked.

“Austria,” he replied, meeting her eyes, then slowly smiling. “You don’t see that?”

“Not yet…” she admitted.

“You’ll see. Austria to begin with anyway…” He did not finish the sentence.

She nearly asked what was next, but she did not want to know, at least until she understood what he meant. “Does Peter Howard know that?” she said instead.

“I never know what he knows and what he doesn’t,” Aiden answered. “But this I haven’t yet told him. I want to understand it better first. That’s what I want you to help me find, before we get out of Trieste.”

“Then we have to play harder, more cleverly,” she said, without the slightest waver in her voice or her look.

He bent forward and kissed her slowly, gently, on the mouth.

She returned it, also gently, with no gasp, no momentary loss of balance. His respect, her self-respect, depended on keeping her balance completely, both physically and emotionally, no matter what feelings surged up inside her. She could not afford to let anything blur her judgment.

“Right,” he said, pulling away. “Ready?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitating. There was no doubt in her mind. She must get him out, with whatever knowledge he had. And, of course, the all-important list of names of those secretly involved.

She walked quickly, keeping up with him, her arm linked through his.

* * *


They went to the restaurants where Max had worked. Aiden knew the chefs and the managers. He used Elena as a reason: the long-time friend he wanted to take to the very best places in Trieste.

He asked about Max casually, while she took photographs of the most attractive aspects of the restaurants, or the old buildings nearby, hoping to catch the unique character of each. Sometimes people gathered round her and were quite willing to pose, adding color and life to an otherwise purely architectural scene.

Outside the fifth restaurant they had tried, she waited for Aiden to em

erge. When he did, his smile faded as soon as they were across the narrow street.

“What did they say?” she asked.

“Keep walking,” he ordered.


Tags: Anne Perry Mystery