Page 11 of A Song in the Dark

“She is. And who wouldn’t appreciate getting to chauffeur the greatest pianist in the world?”

Thank heaven the man studied some other papers on his desk and wasn’t watching Rick’s reaction. The piles of papers were each a foot high, and Rick counted eight that he could see.

“Indeed.”

Perhaps there was significance to some of the locations of the concerts?

Or to the pianist herself? She was from England, but there had to be something more if they were putting an agent on her.

Wait. His new boss just said she was the most renowned concert pianist—which meant she would be playing for big audiences .

.. prestigious audiences. That must be the key.

He took a deep breath—no way to find out except taking the job and listening in. Time to do what he was trained to do. “I can’t say that I know much about famous musicians, sir. But I’ll take the job. And do whatever is necessary to ensure that she gets to where she needs to go on time.”

“Good, good.” His new “boss” steepled his fingers together. The man seemed completely unaware that his new driver was an SIS agent.

Rick had to keep it that way.

In addition to the other elements of his cover, he was also supposed to lack higher education. Being a driver made him non-threatening, since most people got into the car and ignored the person behind the wheel. This hoity-toity musician wouldn’t be any different.

The man behind the desk pulled his thick glasses from his bulbous nose and cleaned them with his tie.

“Your references were impressive, so don’t let me down.

One of the owners said you would be the man for the job.

” He waved at a fly buzzing around his head.

“Isn’t it exciting to be a part of something so grand? ”

“Grand?”

“This tour is to bring unity and hope across war-torn Europe. Almost all of the concerts have been sold out for weeks, and the tour lasts for eighteen months.”

“Eighteen months?” Surely he wouldn’t have to drive this woman around for a year and a half! He’d be bored out of his mind. His skills were needed elsewhere, weren’t they? Why him? “Is that normal for a ... pianist?”

Now his boss looked more than a little miffed. “Isn’t that acceptable to you? With unemployment rates skyrocketing across Europe, most men would love to have a job that gave them peace of mind for that long.”

The jab hit its mark. Agents were supposed to be shadows. Not perceptible to the average citizen. He couldn’t afford to make this man take undue note of him. “Of course, it’s acceptable. Thank you very much. I was simply shocked to hear that a pianist could tour for that long.”

The man sniffed. “Not many government officials and leaders will pass up the opportunity to hear her play.” He settled his glasses back on his face and folded his arms over his belly. “Word is, Queen Wilhelmina herself will be graced with a private concert.”

Ah. That was the point of this assignment. Driving the pianist would give him access to all the concertgoers. Would she be playing for the Nazis? This might give him an opportunity to gain access into otherwise off-limit places.

He’d done it before, picking up more information than any of the others by pretending he didn’t understand when they’d infiltrated the offices of the Nazis.

“You will be her exclusive driver for the next eighteen months. She also has an assistant traveling with her.” He reached for a pen, his movements stiff as he eyed Rick.

All signs of his former exuberance gone.

“Perhaps I’ve made a hasty decision. I was excited to have a man of your qualifications to assign to Miss Frappier. But now I’m—”

“No, no. Please.” Why had he allowed his emotions to show? He knew better. “I’m sorry. I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep the past few days, and I don’t know what came over me. I apologize. I’m extremely grateful for the job.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at Rick for several seconds.

“All right then.” He scratched something on a slip of paper and handed it to Rick.

“They arrive tomorrow, the address was confirmed this morning. You will take the Rolls Royce Phantom III Limousine. It’s our best car and the most luxurious.

I expect you to return it in pristine condition. ”

“Yes, sir.” Rick stuck the slip of paper into his pocket and kept his head down. “Thank you for believing in me, sir.”

“If I didn’t have a family at home to take care of, I would’ve taken the job myself.

” The man relaxed in his chair. “But you’re young and unattached so that makes you perfect for the job.

” He leaned forward. “You will also be offering protection of sorts since your passengers are women. Do your best to be clean and in uniform at all times. Make sure you bring a knife with you. Just in case. We can’t have thieves or vagabonds attacking such a notable luminary on our watch. ”

“Yes, sir. I will not let you down.” No point in telling the man he had several pistols with him. Which were illegal in Nazi territory, but necessary for an agent.

“See to it that you don’t.” The man dismissed him with a wave.

Rick left the building and jogged down the steps—

He frowned. He’d caught sight of someone out of the corner of his eye. Who ...?

His contact.

Finally.

The man ducked into an alleyway. The man was a lot thinner and had more gray hair than the last time they’d seen each other. Rick strolled in the same direction then ducked into the alley.

Charles handed him a folder. “Read the file and memorize it. To the last detail. Then destroy it. Your languages will come in handy for the travel and give you opportunities to listen in. The highest-profile targets all across Europe have tickets for this woman’s concerts, which leads us to believe that Miss Frappier is more than just a pianist. Who knows what kinds of meetings you might encounter.

Be ready for anything, at any time. We will have contacts reach out to you as additional assignments arise.

But for now, learn what you can by listening. ”

Rick nodded and grabbed the folder. If there were opportunities to help further SIS operations in Eastern Europe and stop the Nazis, he would find them.

His contact slipped away into the alley, and Rick opened the folder and found a picture of a lovely woman on top.

Chaisley Frappier.

The pianist.

Closing the folder, he tucked the file inside his jacket and headed back to his hotel. He would have to spend the evening studying up on Miss Frappier and music terminology.

The biggest question on his mind, though, had nothing to do with music.

Was Miss Frappier a Nazi sympathizer or not?