The P.M. was lost in his thoughts again. “But why so much time?” he murmured. “And where’s the damn Jap fleet?” Then, “Gimme map!”
John hurried to the perimeter of the room, where there was an antique globe in a Queen Anne stand. He took out the orb. “Just throw it, young man!”
John tossed the world, and the P.M. caught it with ease. David almost whistled in appreciation.
“Mount Niitaka …” the Prime Minister mumbled, searching for it on the globe. “ ‘Climb Mount Niitaka’ must have been the order to begin a mission—the climb—not the order to attack … The Japanese fleet was last spotted off Formosa almost a week ago … So they’re at sea … But where? God blast it to hell and back!”
“They’d probably be sailing about three hundred miles a day, sir,” David ventured, trying to make up for not knowing Mount Niitaka.
The P.M. thrust up a finger. “Remember, I was First Lord of the Admiralty, young pup! I know bloody well how fast a ship can sail! But they won’t go in a straight line … Let’s give them three thousand miles … They were last spotted off the coast of China, near Formosa …”
“Yes,” John said. “We sent all of that information to the Americans in Washington, both the Army and Navy. And our double agent, Dušan Popov, went to J. Edgar himself, with the intel we received, about the Japanese making a grid map of Pearl. Popov said Hoover threw him out of his office, then tried to throw him out of the country …”
“Popov. Pearl Harbor. The Americans … Good God.” The globe slipped from Churchill’s hands, falling to the floor with a crash, then rolling across the carpet. “They’re not going to attack us or our holdings in the Far East—the Japanese are going to attack the American fleet at Pearl Harbor on December eighth!”
Chapter Fifteen
When Maggie burst into Sarah’s room at Chalmers, her friend’s eyes were open.
“How are you feeling?” Maggie exclaimed, sitting gently on the edge of the bed.
Sarah gave a weak smile. “The doctor says I’m going to live.”
“I’m so glad! You can’t even imagine …” Maggie bent down to hug Sarah.
“We arrested her,” she went on. “It was Diana Atholl. She …” Maggie couldn’t mention anthrax. “Well, she put poison on the roses for Estelle. So Estelle was poisoned, and you and Mildred Petrie were, as well.”
The dancer shook her head. “You mean I almost died because of an accident?”
“I believe the technical term is negligent homicide. But you’re going to be fine …”
“Estelle and Mildred won’t be fine …”
“Shhhh,” Maggie soothed. “Just get some rest—”
But Sarah’s eyes were already closed.
The next morning, Dr. Carroll brought the book of German children’s tales for Agna, but it was Clara Hess who received him. “What’s that?” she demanded, eyes narrowing.
“Something for Agna.”
“Morality tales? Of course that’s what she’d pick. Here, let me see it.”
She held the book up to her nose and sniffed. “Ah, I love the smell of books. Even if they are sentimental drivel.” She turned the pages. “Look at this one!” she said, pointing to Die Geschichte von den schwarzen Buben. “Do you know it?”
“ ‘The Story of the Black Boys.’ I may have read it as a child, but I don’t remember.”
“In the story, St. Nicholas catches three boys teasing a Negro. To teach them a lesson, he dips the three boys in black ink, to make them even darker than the boy they’d teased.” She looked at the doctor. “But they were right to tease the black boy. They are racially superior.”
“I’ll take it away, if you don’t want it—”
“No, no, no,” Clara said. “Beggars can’t be choosers. The only thing is …” She smiled at Dr. Carroll, her lips curving in what looked to be an embarrassed grimace. “I’m over fifty now. My eyes aren’t as good as they once were. Do you—do you think,” she asked, her voice gentling, “that you could bring me a pair of reading glasses?”
Dr. Carroll smiled, relieved he’d seen the first crack in Clara Hess’s façade. “Yes, Frau Hess. I’m sure that could be arranged.”
“And my daughter. You have contacted her? She knows about the—” She avoided saying the word execution. “—Sunday?”
“No, Frau Hess. I’m terribly sorry to tell you that your daughter is in the midst of important government work. She cannot receive any messages.”