“This is fantastic,” said my father. “I can’t believe it.”

“Strange things happen…particularly in wartime…and all this brings us to where we stand today. Now, Lucinda, I want you to tell me exactly what happened when you made your journey across France. You acquired a nursemaid for the child, did you not?”

I told him how we had met Andrée and her brother, and how Andrée had accompanied us to England and had become Edward’s nurse.

He sat there nodding, and then he took more pictures from the envelope, which he was still holding. There were six in all and he showed us one of them. It was of Andrée.

I looked at it in amazement. Jean Pascal smiled at me. “This is Elsa Heine. At least I think that is the name to which she has most claim. She works in close contact with von Durrenstein.”

“It’s Andrée!” I cried. “Now I am sure that I saw Carl Zimmerman in the forest with her. She convinced me that he was a stranger asking the way. Edward had said that a man talked to them in the forest, and when I mentioned this to Andrée, she said—rather coyly—that it was Tom Gilroy, one of the men from the hospital who was interested in her. It all seemed plausible enough at the time.”

“They are clever, these people,” said Jean Pascal. “So adaptable. They have to carry out their duties with efficiency. They can become nursemaids or gardeners…whatever the occasion warrants.”

“But…Edward is so fond of her.”

“Of course. She is an excellent nursemaid, and a very clever young woman into the bargain. Let us think about her. She has frequently been in this house since you came back from France. What luck for her that you brought her in! It was what was intended, of course.”

“Her brother…”

“More of him later. Let us consider your Andrée first.”

“I knew someone was getting into my room,” said my father. “We could not understand it. Mrs. Cherry was the only one with the key, until Lucinda had it.”

“The problem of a key to these people is quite a simple one. Clever Andrée would have managed to get a copy of that key very quickly. She would find some means of stealing it…long enough for her to do what she wanted. It explains how information leaked out. She had been systematically passing on what she was getting from this house.”

“How could we have been so stupid!” cried my father. “It is all so obvious.”

“Everything is obvious when one is aware of it,” said Jean Pascal. “So…we have the spy in the house. That was all arranged by the clever group. They worked well together. Now, my granddaughter’s death. It is involved in this, I am sure. Lucinda, my dear, you knew Annabelinda as well as anyone. Did she confide in you?”

“Yes, she did to a certain extent.”

“Then perhaps you can throw some light on this. The man she had known as Carl Zimmerman has returned to London. Did he try to see her, do you know?”

“Yes, and he wanted to see her again. She told me that he had threatened to tell her husband if she did not continue their affair.”

“The persistent lover! It is hard to believe von Durrenstein was that. The only thing he is ardent about is his work. He could not be so proficient at it if he allowed himself other interests. We have to look at it this way. Why did he come to see Annabelinda again? He was ardently in love with her? He had heard about the child and wanted to see him? That makes me smile. No. He came for a purpose. This could be useful. A husband in the War Office. Close friendship with this house. They already had Andrée installed here. But they could do with another to work for them. I’ll guess that he blackmailed Annabelinda, threatening her that if she did not help him in his work, which she was qualified to do because of her connections, he would expose her to her husband. Go on from there, please, Lucinda.”

I told them how uneasy she had been. “She was really distrait,” I said. “I have never seen her like that before…except on one occasion. I remember, we were in the garden and she was not well. She wanted to go and lie down. I said I would stay with her, but she did not want that. So she went into the house. She was most insistent that she should be left alone.”

“For how long?” asked Jean Pascal.

“It must have been about three-quarters of an hour.”

“Long enough to go to the study and get something from the bureau.”

“She could have taken that information about Folkestone,” said my father.

“Von Durrenstein would have given her the key and the nursemaid kept the coast clear while she did the job,” said Jean Pascal.

“But why make her do it when Andrée could have done it so easily?” I asked.

“Probably to test her. To give her an easy task, and once she had committed this, she could not turn back.”

“But that was what she planned to do when she realized the enormity of what she had done. She was very upset about the explosion at Folkestone, and she said she was going to confess everything to Marcus.”

“And do you think she told von Durrenstein that she was going to do this?”

“Yes. She was plucking up her courage to. She said she was going to choose the right moment.”

“If she told von Durrenstein that, she was signing her own death warrant.”

“And she was killed by these people, because of this…?”

“It may well be. She was going to confess ‘at the right moment.’ She would tell him about the stolen document she had passed to von Durrenstein. Her husband was at the War Office. The entire network of spies could be betrayed. Our service would have been alerted. For a long time they have been trying to rout out von Durrenstein and his gang.” He was thoughtful for a moment. Then he went on. “These little facts we have pieced together are why I am here in England. When I heard that my granddaughter had been murdered, I wondered why. I was all impatience to come here and find out. You see, there was this unfortunate connection with von Durrenstein. When all is said and done, this man is the father of my great-grandson.”

“You think it was this gang who lured Annabelinda to her death?”

“I think it is a possibility. The bogus nursemaid would know of the house she proposed to visit. She would know that she was going to meet the house agent there. One might ask, Why did they need such a complicated setup? Why not just climb into her room one night and strangle her? Why go to all the trouble of going to an empty house? There was a great deal at stake. The murder of the poor unfortunate girl was of no great significance to them. She was someone who got in the way, who could have been a danger, and they could not afford dangers. They just brushed her aside in the manner which seemed less hazardous to their organization. The nursemaid knew of all the arrangements. The empty house must have seemed the best spot. The murderer could have been a tramp…a robber…anyone, and he could make his escape with ease. That is how I see it. Von Durrenstein was not going to be seen near the scene of the crime, for he had already had some communication with the victim. Although the meeting had been secret, someone might have seen them together. One never knows what investigations are going to reveal. So it was better for him to be as far removed as possible. I have read all about the case, of course. I know of the bogus house agent who called and was seen by the housekeeper…Mrs. Kelloway, I believe.”

“Yes, that is right.”

Jean Pascal turned back to the envelope and drew out a picture. There was something familiar about the face.

“This is Hans Reichter, one of their cleverest. He is a very worthy member of this nest of spies.”

“Surely I have seen him somewhere?” I said.

“Oh, yes, you have. It was when you were traveling across France and he joined you with Elsa, who was his sister for that occasion.”

“I can’t believe it. How we were duped! The car broke down. He fixed it…and then Andrée came with us and he went to Paris.”

“All neatly arranged, no doubt. Elsa wanted to get to England. It would not have been very easy for her. But there you were, in the company of a high-ranking officer of the British army. They knew who you were, Lucinda.” Jean Pascal turned to my father. “Your work, mon cher, has not gone unnoticed. To get into your house was Elsa’s project. And how well she managed it.”

“With our foolish help.”

“Oh, come! You must not say that. You were in ignorance. How could you have been otherwise? You have contributed to my knowledge, as I now have to yours, and we can help each other in tracking down these people and putting them where they belong.”

I was looking at the picture, remembering it all, seeing him walking across the dining room, joining us at our table after his “sister’s” dramatic exit. All lies! How could we have been so easily deluded?

“The man Mrs. Kelloway saw had a beard,” I said.

“It is not difficult to grow a beard,” commented Jean Pascal.

I was thinking of the scene at the table. I saw the man sitting there. There was something wrong with his hands. He had lost part of his little finger. I could hear his words, “I was playing with fireworks.”

It was all beginning to fit. Jean Pascal might not have discovered the entire truth, but he was somewhere near it.

“That young man,” I said. “There was something about his hands.”

“It is a distinguishing feature which has helped us considerably.”

“It was quick of Mrs. Kelloway to notice,” said my father. “It was a vital clue…and seized upon.”

“It is strange how a little carelessness can bring disaster, after all the careful planning that went into it,” Jean Pascal said.

“Yes,” said my father. “He dropped the house agent’s brochure, which he had carefully obtained to increase his credibility, and in picking it up, showed his hand to the housekeeper…and so he was identified.”