Page 13 of A Song in the Dark

As the car pulled to a stop, she leaned forward on the edge of her seat, found the driver’s shoulder, and tapped on it.

It was firmer than she’d expected. Then again, her drivers were normally older .

.. rounder gentlemen. Mr. Zimmerman’s voice and movements seemed closer to her own age.

Switching back to Dutch, she began, “Mr. Zimmerman, I’d like to have a word. ”

“Certainly, Miss Frappier.”

Melanie gripped Chaisley’s right hand, squeezed, then released it. Her dress rustled a bit as she slid on the velvet seat to exit the vehicle.

Once Chaisley heard the firm latch of the door, she continued. “I’d like to know a bit more about you since we will be spending so much time together.”

“Yes, ma’am. What would you like to know?”

Now was not the time to mince words. Melanie had been so protective of her, it was her turn to make sure her friend and confidante was in good care as well.

With a deep breath, she clasped her hands tight in her lap.

“How old are you? Do you have a family? Where are you from? And most important, do you align yourself with the Nazis?”

Rick studied the woman in the rearview mirror while a tall gentleman walked in front of the car and stood there. To stand guard?

An extra precaution, no doubt, since Miss Frappier’s assistant had gone inside. Most of their conversation had been in English, so he’d been right to say he didn’t speak it well. A lie that would serve him well on this assignment.

Was she about to tell him whatever her secret was?

He studied the woman again. She was beautiful, with blonde hair and light blue eyes that sparkled as she spoke. In the light outside the ship, those eyes appeared almost silver. But now, inside the vehicle with the deep blue velvet interior, they were darker.

She didn’t meet his gaze in the mirror. It appeared she was focused on the back of his head.

He had better answer her questions. “Well, first, I am thirty years old. My father was killed in the Great War, and my mother died soon after. I’m the only one of my family left.

I am not married, so if you are concerned about me being away from anyone, don’t be.

My parents were both born in Germany but met in Switzerland.

I was raised here in Amsterdam.” All true. Now came the part he didn’t like.

He took a breath. “I do not align myself with any political party. I am a simple, uneducated man seeking to do good work and make an honest wage.” He watched her face. No reaction.

“Mr. Zimmerman, you just lied to me.”

His eyebrows shot up. How on earth...? “Pardon me?”

She continued to stare at the back of his head.

“Your age is true, as is the information about your family and where you are from. But the last part wasn’t.

Just like earlier when you said you didn’t speak much English.

” She leaned back against the seat, her jaw firm and set.

“Now, let’s try again, or I shall have to find another driver for the next eighteen months. ”

How did she know? Without even looking him in the eye? He cleared his throat. Please, Lord, don’t let my next words get me fired . “Do you align with the Nazis, Miss Frappier?”

A wry laugh softened her face for a moment. He shifted his gaze away from the mirror. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring when he was trying to keep his job. “Nice try. Do you often seek to appease whomever you work for by siding with them?”

“It’s gotten me this far.”

“I don’t believe it has.” She leaned forward again.

“You see, I can hear it in the tone of your voice. You are not an uneducated man at all. And I believe that you do have very strong feelings about the political climate in this world. So why don’t you just tell me the truth now?

It would save us a great deal of time and trouble. ”

So. She wanted an answer, or he would be fired. She was from England. Her grandmother was from Amsterdam. Her last name was clearly French. His best guess was that she was not a Nazi sympathizer. But what if he was wrong? His job was to spy. On her. And whomever she came into contact with.

Lord, please let that be the right choice .

“I indeed went to university.”

“Aha, I knew it!” Her smile lit up her face. “Now about the other thing?”

Apparently, she would know if he lied so he had better just get it out there. “I do not align myself with the Nazis.”

She drummed her fingers upon her knee for several seconds. “Finally. The truth. Which now makes me wonder, why did you lie?”

He needed to be careful. Her ability to guess when he was lying was.

.. disconcerting. “Most of the people who have hired me as a driver prefer to have a non-threatening person behind the wheel. Someone without opinions. Someone uneducated, who they can command or walk all over, if they are so inclined.”

“Another honest answer. Thank you.”

She didn’t move to leave the car, but also didn’t say anything else.

“Might I ask what you heard in my voice that told you I lied?” It was far too forward to ask such a question, but she opened that door.

Her fingers drummed a fast rhythm again, and her face tilted toward the roof of the car. “I am an expert at hearing things.”

Not really an explanation. He took a breath to say so, but held his tongue.

“For instance. Just now, you wanted to say something else, but you decided against it. Are you worried about losing your job?”

Good grief. He wasn’t going to get anything past this woman, so he better just spill the truth. “Yes, I was worried about losing this job. I was also not convinced with your explanation.”

She laughed, and it was almost musical. Which made sense for this woman surrounded by melodies.

“I appreciate your bluntness.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Leaning forward again, she dipped her chin, tilted it back and forth as if she was weighing a decision, and then reached a hand forward to the back of his seat. Her fingers tapped out another fast rhythm.

Rick held his breath. Would she learn all his secrets with her strange ability to suss out the truth? Her dossier said she was a prodigy, but was she also an agent? A spy? But for whom?

Her tapping stopped. “I don’t think you have noticed quite yet, but I’m sure eventually you would since we will be spending so much time together, and you seem to be an observant man.” The nearness of her voice startled him from his thoughts.

He waited.

The rhythm of her fingers began in earnest. Then stopped. “Mr. Zimmerman, I am blind.”

Everything slowed for a moment, as if his head was stuffed with cotton wool. Then the day’s events zipped through his mind’s eye.

The whispers between her and her assistant.

The assistant’s discreet hand beneath the pianist’s elbow.

How Miss Brigman hovered close when Miss Frappier entered or exited a room.

His gaze went back to the rearview mirror.

She wasn’t staring at the back of his head on purpose. She didn’t know he was looking at her in the mirror.

“Well, this is embarrassing.” Miss Frappier leaned back against the leather seat. “I’ve had a few reactions to my disability, but instant inability to speak is not generally one.”

Nice job, Rick. He gripped the steering wheel. “I apologize, Miss Frappier. I didn’t even ... That is to say, it wasn’t...”

That musical laughter filled the car again. Was she laughing at him? He couldn’t blame her.

“You don’t have to feel sorry for me, Mr. Zimmerman. Or find the right words to say. I wanted you to know because you’ll be with me on the tour.”

Scarlet burned his cheeks, but he couldn’t stop the grin tugging at his lips. “Thank you, miss. Forgive me for my delayed response.”

Miss Frappier’s hand reached toward the armrest of the door, her slim fingers wrapped around the handle.

“No forgiveness necessary. However I would ask that you not say anything to anyone outside my circle. It’s not something I necessarily hide.

Yet I have also chosen not to advertise it.

There is no sense in calling attention to myself.

I manage just fine. I’m sure you can appreciate my desire for discretion. ”

“Of course, Miss Frappier.”

“Thank you, Mr. Zimmerman.” She opened her car door. “Bastiaan—my grandmother’s butler—will tell you where to park the car and show you to your quarters.”

The butler scurried toward her door, holding it open as she exited, and slammed it shut when she was gone.

Rick watched her take measured steps to the massive oak front door, which was flung open to reveal Miss Brigman and an older woman with a cane. They embraced the pianist and all entered the manor house.

A sharp rap on his window startled his gaze away. The butler stared at him, his face dark with a fierce frown. Rick rolled down his window and opened his mouth to greet the man, but he was cut off.

“Continue on the drive and turn right at the curve of the road. Garage is on the right. I will meet you up there to unload the luggage and then I will show you to your room.”

Rick nodded and turned the key, the engine roaring to life.

So... the world didn’t know that their most famous musician was blind. Did the SIS know?

If so, what else had they not told him about the pianist?