Chapter 22
Lizzie was impatient to visit the Münsterplattform, or the Pl?fe as the locals referred to the terrace.
As a civilian, Brunner wouldn’t call it a dead drop, but she hoped he intended to pass information to her, or why would he have gone to the trouble of planting incongruous words in the crossword?
It was obvious he hadn’t just got the answers wrong.
There was, however, little point rushing to examine the wall on the terrace before Brunner could leave something for her, so she held herself back from tearing over there after work.
The following day, Pemberton and Tom had so much for her to do that she had to eat at the Legation and work late again.
She had no time to leave the office, and it would be too suspicious if she went alone at night.
Lizzie thought of asking Tom to accompany her, but quickly rejected the idea.
This was something she must keep to herself, at least for now, until she knew more.
Jack’s voice echoed in her mind, as it so often did. ‘Go nowhere Elizabeth Gale wouldn’t go alone, and presume someone is always watching you, because they may well be.’
The thought took her back to the mysterious man who seemed to watch her in the café.
He wasn’t the same one from the Rosengarten when she met Hildegard, but she resolved to be even more careful.
There was something about working at the Legation in such a lovely city in a neutral country that made her lower her guard, even though she had been warned it was a centre for intrigue and espionage.
Tom told her that the café was one of many that were popular with diplomats and spies, and to be on her guard.
After operating in occupied France and Berlin, Bern felt almost like being on holiday, but she mustn’t underestimate the dangers of what lurked beneath the surface.
That afternoon, the opportunity finally arrived for her to check whether Brunner had followed through on his unorthodox statements at the ball and his odd actions in the café.
Lizzie left work on the dot of five, saying to the receptionist that she had an errand to run and wanted to do it in daylight.
The receptionist nodded and continued typing.
If Pemberton looked for her, the woman would mention she had gone on an errand, and there would be nothing unusual about it.
Crossing the bridge, she heard the familiar gurgle of the fast-flowing river current, but instead of lingering to admire the scene, she walked briskly until the cathedral’s spire dominated the sky, guiding her to her destination like a compass.
As she neared the terrace, Lizzie sat down on a bench and pretended to remove a stone from her shoe.
As she did, she scanned the area discreetly until she was confident no one had followed her.
Then she stood and walked behind the cathedral and onto the terrace that overlooked the Aare.
It was difficult to escape the view of the river because it encircled the Old Town like a medieval moat, and it seemed to accompany Lizzie wherever she went.
A couple holding hands stood admiring the view of the white-peaked Alps, the pretty red rooftops, and the water glimmering in the late afternoon sun.
A man crossed onto the pathway and disappeared from sight, and a small group of students leaned against the chestnut trees, smoking and chatting.
An elderly couple sat on one bench sharing a sandwich as Lizzie passed by.
She was in the right location: Pl?fe was the terrace, and her other clue was mauer, which was German for wall.
Lizzie walked around slowly, enjoying the faint rays of sun on her face despite the chilled air, assessing where the dead drop could be.
It was perfectly normal for a woman to take a turn after work, and lighting up a cigarette would be excellent cover, but Elizabeth Gale didn’t smoke.
Her eyes lingered on the sandstone balustrade that was like a parapet wall, with ornamental pavilions at each corner.
This was the only wall Brunner could be referring to, so by a process of elimination, a suitable spot for a dead drop could be a gap in the balustrade near where the couple stood in a passionate embrace, or in one of the pavilions.
The challenge was checking without attracting attention to her actions from the people nearby.
The young lovers were besotted with each other and too distracted to notice much happening around them.
The students milled about in the distance, and a few of them kicked a football back and forth near the trees.
And the elderly couple rose from the bench and walked along the path, the woman holding onto the man’s arm for support.
If she delayed further, new arrivals who were more aware of their surroundings might appear.
The couple were laughing and kissing again and had moved to one side of a corner pavilion, but were still nearby.
Lizzie ambled towards the balustrade and pretended to admire the view of the sinking amber sun in the blue-gold sky as daylight prepared to take its last breaths.
A chill wind whipped in her face, and she shivered and pulled her coat collar closer.
It wouldn’t be long before the soft light faded into dusk, and she wanted to get home before darkness fell, especially if she had a secret intelligence package to smuggle into the safety of her apartment.
The young woman giggled and broke into a run, and the man chased her. This was her moment, so she dropped a coin on the ground and fumbled about as if trying to find it. She scanned the gaps between the stones, and the giggles of the woman grew louder again.
Something out of place in the sandstone caught her eye, and she reached across and pretended to examine the ground for what she had dropped.
As she did so, she moved next to the wall and raised her head to the gap in the stones.
Pulling herself up with the support of the wall, she lowered one hand to the gap, and her fingers poked inside until they touched something soft.
Glancing around, she checked that the various groups were still absorbed in their pursuits.
In one swift movement, she extracted the small package that was tucked cleverly into the stonework and popped it into her coat pocket.
Standing still for a few minutes, gazing at the setting sun, she then turned and left the terrace.
Her icy fingers closed over the package wrapped in waxed paper, and a thrill rocketed through her, but she schooled herself to walk at a steady pace even though she felt the urge to race.
She couldn’t wait to open the package and see what the banker deemed so dangerous he must drop clues for her in a crossword and hide it in a wall.