Page 44 of A Song in the Dark

Everyone knew Hitler had been rearming Germany—which was in clear violation of the Treaty of Versailles.

He’d occupied the Rhineland and taken Austria.

He wasn’t keeping it a secret that he wanted Czechoslovakia.

Could these other leaders actually accomplish peace with such a man?

Who said he wouldn’t defy another treaty?

Rick didn’t think peace was possible at this point.

But after a coded phone call with his superiors back in England, Rick walked back to the flats where he was staying along with Melanie and Chaisley.

They’d been able to secure an entire floor of apartments, which gave them a bit of security and privacy.

His shoulders felt weighed down. For several weeks, Melanie had pestered him in private about what he was up to. Reminded him that he’d promised to be honest with them. And he had been. Even assuring Melanie that it was his work and that was all he could share.

So he hadn’t told them everything. Surely they would understand that being a spy for the British government meant he had to keep some secrets. It wasn’t like he could go blabbing about the plans in place to stop the Nazis.

But Melanie continued to be suspicious of him. Every time he left them. Not that he could blame her.

He hated negative thoughts. Pessimism. And yet, here he was, a cynic. Worried that Chaisley was thinking the worst of him. Dreading the outcome of these meetings.

Mr. Grand had put Section D in motion—which was the right thing to do—and Rick worked his part with others across the continent. Which meant the possibility that he would be pulled from his job as Chaisley’s driver grew into a bigger possibility every day. And where would that leave them?

The men he spoke with today seemed optimistic that all would be right with the world after these negotiations in Munich and they wouldn’t need to implement anything else.

Rick found that hard to believe. Although God was in the business of doing impossible things.

When the elevator reached the top floor, he pulled out the key to his flat.

“Rick!” Chaisley called from down the hall. “Come have dinner with us.”

His stomach rumbled and he smiled. “Dinner sounds great.” Maybe it would help him get rid of this mood. “Let me get cleaned up and I’ll be right there.”

When he walked back out of his flat a quarter of an hour later, the smells in the hallway made his mouth water.

He knocked on Chaisley’s door, and it opened almost immediately.

“Come on in.” Melanie pointed toward the table. “We ordered a veritable feast.”

“It smells like it.” He spotted Chaisley and he couldn’t contain his smile. What that woman did to him... wow.

But instead of greeting him with a smile, deep lines creased her forehead, and her mouth turned down.

“What’s wrong?” He was at her side in an instant.

“While we were waiting for you, I was checking up on all the letters we’ve sent. There are a number of contacts who haven’t responded.”

That was odd. He studied the stacks in front of her. “Haven’t we always received a response?”

“Yes. That’s what bothers me.” She ran her fingers over the braille on the sheet to her right. “As of right now, there are five who haven’t written back. One, I worry about their safety. Two, what happened to the letters or what kept them from responding?”

He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “It was too good to be true to think that the Nazis weren’t paying attention to our correspondence. But at this point, I think it’s best to assume that someone has caught on and those letters have been intercepted.”

Melanie’s eyes widened as she sat at the table. “That’s an awful thought.” She shivered. “No offense, Rick, but I don’t like the idea of spies. Well, the bad guys having spies.”

“Me neither.” He took the chair next to Chaisley. “All right, so let’s hash this out. How easy would it be for them to read what you’ve sent out?”

She leaned back in her chair. “They’d have to have someone who was an expert in braille.

Someone who had studied all the different dot languages from the beginning.

Frankly, now that I’m saying it out loud again, I don’t think there are very many that could do that.

Especially not those who would willingly help the Nazis. ”

“What you’re saying is that they probably can’t decode anything. Right? At best, they might have a few snippets of information?”

She nodded. “I think it’s time we switched all correspondence to all contacts over to only using the musical braille code I developed.

It’s much harder to decipher, and they’d have to have not only someone who understood braille, but someone who has a working knowledge of all the facets of music, and musical braille on top of that.

Then that person would have to figure out my system.

” With a shrug, she leaned forward. “In my estimation, that could take months.”

“I think it’s time I master this more complicated code.” Rick studied the braille sheet in front of Chaisley. “What do we have to do to inform everyone that we’ve switched? Are they aware of it?”

“Yes, Dr. G visited each contact personally over the last few months. He said it was paramount to plan ahead. He has a code word that he will use to call everyone, and they will know to switch.”

“Sounds like it’s time.” He tapped the paper. “I should probably fill you in on what is happening right now.” After he relayed what he knew about the meetings in Munich, they dug into the now lukewarm food.

But the company was great. The food was better than anything he could cook for himself. And Melanie was no longer eyeing him with suspicion.

Rick took the moment to study Chaisley. The woman fascinated him more each day. And she took his breath away any time she turned her face toward him. He blinked and forced himself to focus on his food. Time to face facts, he was head over heels. Not that he could do anything about it.

When he looked up from his plate, Melanie pinned him with a stare and quirked an eyebrow up.

Most likely with the same question that was on his mind.

When would he tell Chaisley that she’d stolen his heart?

Friday, September 30, 1938

The next morning dawned drizzly and gloomy—Chaisley didn’t need her sight to recognize that.

Rain pelted the windows, and the wind blew in angry sforzando bursts throughout a tranquil melody.

She shuffled her way to the breakfast nook and yawned. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Mel’s tone was a bit like the weather. Gloomy. “Your tea is steeping on the table.”

“Thank you.” She found her seat and reached for the china cup that her friend always placed in the two o’clock position. Wrapping her hands around it, she allowed her fingers to warm on the sides. “I smell toast.”

“That you do.” Her friend’s laugh was light. “And there should be great rejoicing, because this time it isn’t burnt.”

“Aw...” She did her best to cover her giggle. “But I was just beginning to like it burnt. Although, I’d always prefer a croissant.”

A knock sounded at the door—a rhythm she recognized. Rick.

“I’ll get that.” Melanie moved from the table. The door opened. “Come on in. I made toast.”

“And it isn’t burnt!” Chaisley tossed over her shoulder.

“Well, will wonders never cease?” Rick’s warm baritone floated over to her.

Chairs moved and plates clinked as her friends took their seats.

“I’ve got news.” A crunch followed the words. Rick must have bitten into his toast.

“Do tell.” Chaisley leaned back in her chair. “Does it have something to do with the meetings you told us about yesterday?”

“It does.” His cup clinked against the saucer. “I received a wire just a few minutes ago that they’ve granted the Führer Sudetenland.”

She gasped. “They gave him what he wanted? Don’t they realize that could be disastrous?”

“I tend to agree with you, but my superiors are hopeful. As is the rest of the world. They believe this will bring peace in Europe.” The scrape of a knife followed his statement.

He must be buttering another slice of toast. “Granted, most people don’t know about this yet, but it will soon be on the front of every newspaper. ”

“Wow.” It was hard to believe that they’d come to any kind of agreement.

Could this truly be the beginning of the end?

After all this time building a network across Europe .

.. communications came in almost every day.

People had been seeking help to flee their homes.

Would all of that come to a stop if there was peace?

And what about Hitler and his Nazis? Just because they gave him part of Czechoslovakia didn’t mean that he would stop spreading hate.

The silence surrounding her was somber. They were thinking it too. She could feel it. She gripped the edge of the table. “This isn’t over, is it?”