Page 37 of The Amsterdam Enigma (The Continental Capers of Melody Chesterton #3)

I t would not be easy navigating backstage while searching for Rat and Alessandro, and staying clear of the false Widow Brenner and her associate.

Melody didn’t know how far into the backstage area she had been taken after being knocked unconscious.

She took several wrong turns before finally finding a corridor she thought she recognised. Except it turned out she didn’t.

Eventually, she reached a staircase. She couldn’t imagine where it could lead, unless she had been taken down to a basement, yet this one led up to the main stage area.

She climbed quietly and carefully. At the top, there was a black door.

To her relief, it was unlocked. Melody pushed it open and realised she had been right; she had been taken downstairs.

Now, she had a clearer sense of her location.

Carefully and keeping to the shadows as much as possible, Melody crept along the corridor.

She was about to turn a corner when she heard voices.

Was the man speaking Dutch Alessandro? Melody peered around the corner and saw Rat and Alessandro being marched into an office.

She heard more voices. While she couldn’t understand what was being said, she caught the phrase, ‘Mijnheer de Directeur', and assumed they’d been taken to the office of the theatre director .

Now what? she wondered. Had they discovered the bomb? Were they about to be arrested? How would they prevent the assassination now?

Of immediate concern was what she should do next.

Was there any point in continuing to sneak around the theatre?

Suddenly, she wished William was there with her.

Confusion and worry threatened to overwhelm her.

Unsure of what to do next, Melody decided to make her way out of the theatre and speak to Mustafa.

Of course, she couldn’t imagine the boy would have any more idea what to do than she did, but she felt the need to speak to someone, at least.

It turned out to be simple enough to make her way back to the stage door.

Stepping outside, she was momentarily blinded by the bright sunlight after the gloom of the backstage corridors.

As her eyes adjusted to the glare, she looked around for Mustafa.

Though she didn’t see him immediately, Melody finally spotted him leaning against the neighbouring building.

As Melody approached Mustafa, he looked up anxiously. “Lalla Melody, I am so pleased to see you. I wasn’t sure whether to come in and try to find you.”

“Why? What has happened, Mustafa?”

In a quiet voice, the boy explained, “I believe I just saw the crate brought out that was taken in this morning.”

Melody considered his words. What did they mean? It was possible the bomb parts had been taken out and were being assembled, and now they were simply disposing of the crate. Though why bother?

“Did you see what happened to it?” she asked.

“It was loaded onto a transport wagon and driven away,” Mustafa explained.

Melody closed her eyes, hoping inspiration would find her.

The crate had vanished; Rat and Alessandro appeared to be under some kind of arrest, and after seeing the woman they had believed was Vermeer’s wife, she wasn’t even sure what of the investigation was real.

It was a sign of her desperation when Melody asked Mustafa, “What should I do? I feel as if I have most of the pieces of a puzzle, but I am running out of time to put them together. Mr Sandworth and Conte Foscari have been captured, and I am unsure of what our next move should be. ”

“I do not know, Lalla Melody,” the young boy said seriously, his eyes wide with alarm at the panic in her voice.

“Let me help,” a calm, steady voice said from behind them.

Melody started. How had she not noticed that they had been watched?

A figure stepped out from the shadows. Like Rat and Alessandro, the man was dressed as the other theatre workers and wore a flat cap pulled low over his forehead. Nevertheless, Melody recognised him instantly and sighed in relief.

“William! You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” Melody had to stop herself from rushing into his arms. “How did you know to be here?”

“I’ve been watching you all closely,” was all Somerset said.

“And we thought we were being so careful, and even changed accommodation,” Melody said as much to herself as anyone. She quickly and quietly outlined everything they thought they’d discovered, what they believed was planned, and then what had happened since they’d arrived at the theatre.

Melody explained how a woman claiming to be Karl Brenner’s wife had identified his body at the police station, and that Alessandro had discovered this and obtained an address for the woman through one of his journalists.

She continued, “But now I wonder if she was his wife at all or merely set up as such to lure us down a particular path.”

“So, you were taken captive by a woman who had previously been posing as Vermeer’s wife?” Somerset asked thoughtfully. “Was this woman the wardrobe mistress?”

“Yes! How did you know that?”

“Because I crept into the theatre and saw her. The woman is a German operative, who goes by the name Helga Meier. The Germans have been very clever and Foscari just walked into their trap,” Somerset said with a trace of bitterness.

“My brother uncovered shipments containing bomb parts at the docks, which Mustafa saw unloaded here and taken into the theatre this morning. However, he just saw what looked like those same crates loaded back onto a transport wagon and taken away.” Realising she hadn’t yet told him one of the more critical parts of the story, Melody then described what she’d seen in the corridor a few minutes ago when it seemed Rat and Alessandro had been apprehended.

“I don’t believe that anyone in the Foreign Office or British Intelligence realised that Helga Meier was in Amsterdam,” Somerset explained.

“The woman is a brilliant and ruthless operative. Knowing that she is involved helps explain what has been going on. I think the entire thing from beginning to end has been a trap.”

“Everything? Every false-flag operation?” Melody asked in amazement.

“We may never know for sure. Perhaps Vermeer was a genuine informant, or perhaps he was meant to feed me compromised information from the start.”

“Surely that he was murdered implies that he was who he said he was,” she suggested.

Somerset’s only response was a shrug of his shoulders.

As Melody considered the timeline William had provided her in the botanical gardens, she pointed out, “So, at some point, Germany knew that Matthew and Alessandro had been given this mission. How would they find out?”

Somerset shrugged again, but then said ruefully, “Perhaps we are far less subtle than we believe. More likely, Germany has a mole somewhere in the Foreign Office or British Intelligence. If not, they must have a way of intercepting our communications because you’re right, they seemed to have known that your brother and Conte Foscari were the specific operatives who would be sent in my stead.

They even knew, or anticipated, which hotel you were to stay in.

In either case, I need to get word back to Whitehall as soon as possible. ”

The entire situation was so convoluted, and Melody felt a headache coming on just from trying to wrap her mind around its twists and turns. However, this wasn’t the time to give in to a fit of the vapours; they had to stop a bomb going off and free Alessandro and Rat.

Melody shared her thoughts with William, who shook his head.

“I do not believe there is a bomb.” He said this with great certainty, yet could they be so sure?

“The entire bomb plot has been theatre. There was never meant to be an explosion, only a crisis the British would rush to solve in front of the Dutch. I think that Vermeer figured at least some of this out, and that is why he was killed.”

While she wished to believe in William, Melody couldn’t help herself. “ And what if you’re wrong?” Then, she recalled Alessandro’s words before they left the house. “The plan was to contact the British Legation, a Sir Alan, and have him summon the Dutch authorities.”

Everything they knew, or thought they knew, was swirling around in Melody’s head. Had anything been what it seemed? What could they prove?

“The manifests, the cypher key, was any of it real? If we’re right, then this Helga Meier went to the police and claimed to be Karl Brenner’s Dutch common-law wife, yet now is here, working as a wardrobe mistress as part of the German theatre company.

She is tangible evidence that Germany has been involved in this from the beginning.

We need to have her restrained and get her in front of the Dutch authorities, who will surely recognise her from when she identified the body. ”

William looked sceptical. “It isn’t that it’s not a decent idea, Melody.

However, these people are professionals.

They’ll vanish as quietly as they arrived, before anyone can ask the right questions.

They may already be gone. They’ve been two steps ahead of us throughout all this.

There’s no reason to believe they haven’t anticipated this move as well. ”

Melody considered William’s words. “I don’t think Helga is going anywhere until this operation is complete.

At least not if she’s the mastermind behind it that she seems to be.

After all, it’s still possible that Alessandro and Matthew will be kicked out of the theatre and totally ignored.

Then, what have the Germans achieved except to irritate Britain and waste the time of some of its operatives? ”

“You’re right, Melody. However, we can’t just confront her directly; she is far too wily to allow that to happen.

And anyway, she knows who you are and that you’re here.

We need to trap her somehow. I just have no idea how.

I wish we knew who was working with her.

Given that the visiting company is German, it could be anyone within it.

Certainly, the idea of installing their operative as the wardrobe mistress was both brilliant and easy to execute. ”

Melody reflected on what they knew and how they had been manipulated so far. Suddenly, her mental fog cleared, and she believed she understood what was happening. “As you said, the Germans have been two steps ahead of us throughout. Is there any reason to believe they still aren’t?”

Wiliam conceded that. Melody pressed her point. “They led us here. They know our beliefs because they supplied us with the information that underpins them. They want us to involve the Dutch authorities and cause a fuss.”

“But perhaps you are right and we can prove that Helga Meier pretended to be Karl Brenner’s wife,” William insisted.

“Can we? Do you truly believe that our word will hold much weight? And as for whichever policeman she spoke to, I am certain she was clever enough to disguise herself. She knew this was all going to happen. Why would she leave such an obvious flaw in her plan?”

William sighed in frustration, but he could see Melody’s point. “Then what do we do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Melody smiled. “I have a plan. We need to go to the British Legation and ensure that Sir Alan doesn’t contact the Dutch authorities no matter what he is told.

And then, we do nothing.” She addressed Mustafa.

“I need you to go into the theatre and keep watch. Sidi Matthew and Sidi Alessandro have been taken into an office. If they are taken from there before we return, I need you to follow them. But be careful. Do not put yourself in harm’s way. ”

She did her best to describe the way she had come from the corridor where she had seen Alessandro and Rat being taken. After she gave the boy yet another direction to be careful, Melody let him go, and he slipped inside.

It was clear from the look on his face that William wasn’t entirely convinced by Melody’s plan, but he didn’t argue, and as soon as Mustafa had disappeared inside of the theatre, they left.