Page 16 of The Amsterdam Enigma (The Continental Capers of Melody Chesterton #3)

A s soon as they left the house, Melody asked, “So, what did she say?”

Once more, Alessandro looked around before answering in a low voice, “Well, from what I can tell, she had no idea that he was a British informant. Of course, I could not ask her that directly, but the woman seemed entirely lacking in guile, and I don’t believe she was attempting to hide anything.”

“What did you learn?”

“She had no trouble telling me why Brenner hated Germany so much; in fact, she volunteered the information. I asked how long he had been living in Amsterdam, and she told me it has been three years. She was rather vague on the details, but I know what she was alluding to.”

“So? What was it?”

“Mevrouw Brenner, which is how she referred to herself, as his wife, said that her husband was in the German Navy during the unrest in the Baltic provinces following the Russian Revolution in 1905.”

Melody was embarrassed to admit that her knowledge of history did not stretch that far. She knew what the Russian Revolution was – who didn’t – but regarding the rest of it, she didn’t know what Alessandro was talking about.

Given that Melody had still been a child at the time, Alessandro must have realised that she needed more context.

“After 1905, revolutionary unrest spread throughout the Russian Empire, including the Baltic provinces. All of these had large German-speaking landowning minorities who wielded significant power. Local peasants and workers, many Latvian nationalists and socialists, rose up against their German landlords.”

Alessandro continued, “These Baltic German elites armed themselves with foreign support; it was suspected at the time that at least some of it was unofficially German backed. Or at least this is what the British Government believed. While Germany officially remained neutral, there was no doubt that individual agents, merchants, and military sympathisers acted, supposedly independently. But there were always questions regarding how independent they truly were or whether this provided the German Government just enough plausible deniability.”

Where was this leading? Melody wondered.

Perhaps realising he needed to get to the point, Alessandro explained, “Brenner worked on a German-flagged merchant vessel delivering supplies to Baltic German landowners, under the guise of trade goods. Mevrouw Brenner said he came to believe the ship’s funding and direction came directly from the German Government. ”

By now, they were back at the edge of Nieuwmarkt, and the aroma of coffee and pastries reminded Melody that it had been quite some time since her breakfast. She suggested they stop to get something to eat.

Alessandro agreed, but it was clear he was anxious about sitting somewhere they might be overheard.

Finally, they found a cafe that was less crowded than the others and had tables outside where they could sit in privacy. They settled themselves in and ordered. Once the waiter returned with a cup of steaming coffee for each of them, Alessandro finished his story.

“Brenner’s ship was moored in the port of Riga when retaliatory violence broke out.

He watched Baltic-German militias execute civilians, including women and children, using German-supplied arms offloaded earlier.

The crew was ordered to keep quiet about what they saw.

Apparently, he was so haunted by what he had witnessed that when the ship arrived in Amsterdam, he abandoned his post and changed his name.

She doesn’t know what his real name is; he thought it safer for her that way. ”

Melody was appalled by what she had heard. Of course, she wasn’t so naive as to believe that terrible things weren’t often done in the name of warfare, but there was something about this story that made it very plausible that a German citizen might have turned against his homeland.

“Did Mevrouw Brenner have any thoughts on why her husband had been killed?” Melody asked.

“No. Though, she did say that he had been jittery of late and she felt as if he was always looking over his shoulder. They had recently moved lodgings for no apparent reason as far as she could tell, and he had begun to talk of leaving Amsterdam soon.”

This led to only one conclusion as far as Melody could see: Vermeer was worried that someone suspected he was acting as an informant against the Germans.

“She had nothing else of use to say?”

“Well, my Dutch is not up to a very in-depth conversation,” Alessandro admitted. “However, I asked her to send a message to the newspaper if she thinks of anything else. I don’t hold out much hope, though.”

Melody sipped her coffee and contemplated what they’d learned. “I do wish we understood more about how Vermeer and Captain Somerset even came into contact with each other initially.”

“Those of us in the espionage business have a sixth sense of when someone is itching to blow the whistle on colleagues or even friends and family.”

This was the first time either Alessandro or Rat had admitted that William Somerset must have been a covert intelligence operative, and perhaps he still was.

Now, she asked, “Do you know what Captain Somerset’s official and unofficial role was when he was in Amsterdam?

” Melody was curious to see what Alessandro knew and what he was prepared to reveal.

She observed his face, looking for signs that he was about to lie.

Of course, Alessandro was a seasoned intelligence operative, and, as such, Melody assumed he was more than capable of masking his deceit.

However, she knew him quite well by this time and thought she might perceive what a casual observer wouldn’t.

“My understanding is that he was seconded to the Political Affairs Desk at the Foreign Office. His official title while he was in Amsterdam was Second Attaché, Commercial Affairs. From what I understand, he was not, nor is, an official part of the Secret Service Bureau. However, his analyses were used as strategic intelligence, especially regarding Dutch neutrality and potential German sabotage.”

“Oh!” was all Melody thought to say.

Alessandro looked bemused. “You sound surprised. Is it at what Somerset’s role was or that I gave up the information so easily?”

“Mostly the latter, I suppose,” Melody admitted.

Alessandro’s face took on an expression she couldn’t interpret. “Melody, I know that you have decided that I am the enemy, but it just isn’t true.” To Melody’s ear, Alessandro’s tone as he said this was almost regretful. Or was he merely manipulating her? Again?

That was the trouble, wasn’t it? Having fallen prey to his suave machinations once, Melody was loath to let her guard down.

It felt as if the safest thing, indeed the smartest thing, was to view Alessandro’s every action and every statement through a lens of suspicion.

Perhaps suspicion wasn’t the right word, but certainly a level of distrust. Even articulating this felt like a degree of candour that she was uncomfortable sharing.

Instead of saying any of this, Melody replied, “Not the enemy.”

She felt tempted to say more, but refrained.

Alessandro completed the thought for her.

“But not a friend?” Melody didn’t reply.

“I would like us to be friends, Melody. I am sorry for any hurt I caused you. The work that Matthew and I do, which you wish to be part of, is vitally important, never more so than now. We do what we need to, even when perhaps our methods seem unreasonable, or even cruel.”

Was that a warning? Melody wondered. Certainly, it was an attempt to justify, or at least explain, why he had feigned romantic interest in her while they were in Venice.

Melody considered Alessandro’s words; was she going to be expected to behave similarly if she continued working on investigations with him, even if in an unofficial capacity?

Was she comfortable with that kind of subterfuge?

Her thoughts must have been evident on her face because Alessandro said, even more gently, “We will never ask you to do anything you are not comfortable with, Melody.”

Even as she felt grateful for this reassurance, she wondered whether this meant she would never be a full investigative partner.

Was that even what she wanted? Melody contemplated whether she needed to take a step back when this investigation concluded, and consider more fully what she did desire.

Even before she’d left London, she’d known that she didn’t want to follow the usual path laid out for a woman of her class: a socially acceptable marriage that quickly led to an heir, and another should misfortune strike.

Thanks to a fortune bequeathed to her by the dowager countess, Melody could shape her life as she desired.

The money was not a dowry, nor was it dependent on any particular path – something that was astounding at the time to those who knew the dowager well.

There was no doubt that the world was opening up to women.

It was now far more common for them to attend university than it had been when Cousin Lily was Melody’s age.

Was that what she wanted to do? Continue her education?

As of a few years prior, women could even be elected to borough and county councils, though not to Parliament.

Melody had never had any genuine interest in politics before.

However, since getting a front-row seat to the ramifications of the government’s foreign policies, she certainly had valuable insights now.

Pretending to be a journalist earlier made Melody wonder whether that might be a field she was interested in exploring.

Alternatively, there was always the option of continuing to force her way into investigations with Alessandro and Rat, which brought her back full circle to Alessandro’s comments.

Was she prepared to do whatever was necessary to fulfil a mission?

While Melody didn’t have an answer to that question, she knew what needed to be said in that moment: “I understand why you did what you did. That doesn’t make it easier to feel I can be fully candid now.”

Alessandro nodded in acknowledgement of her feelings. He extended his hand. “Perhaps we can agree to start anew.”

“I can do that,” she agreed taking his hand.

They walked back to the hotel in mostly companionable silence. It wasn’t until they had just passed the train station that Melody asked, “Do you sense that we’re being watched?”

Alessandro was far too seasoned an operative to turn his head and look around him.

Instead, he continued staring straight ahead.

“Yes, I’ve felt it as well. I wasn’t sure at the cafe, but even since we’ve been walking, I’ve had the feeling that someone is following us.

Is this the first time you’ve felt this? ”

Melody pondered the question. Was it? “Well, of course, there was the supposed footpad the other day. Is that the person who is behind us now?” Given the earlier physical attack on her, the thought that the same individual was tracking her was more worrisome than she was willing to admit.

“Let us continue as if we haven’t noticed, at least for now,” Alessandro advised.

“We are almost back at the hotel. We have no idea how long this person has been following us. If they saw us visit Brenner’s house, that ship has already sailed.

Since then, all we’ve done is sit in a cafe.

I will be alert when I leave the hotel later, and you need to be as well. ”

What did that mean? Melody didn’t want to appear weak and scared to Alessandro.

She realised his willingness to involve her in the investigation was fragile, as was Rat’s.

Melody didn’t want to give either of them a reason to change their minds.

She considered the small Derringer pistol that Granny had given her for her birthday.

The gun was compact enough to be carried even in an evening bag.

She resolved she wouldn’t leave the hotel without it in the future.