James lifted a brow. “You look like a girl with a lost puppy you’re going to ask if we might keep.”
“There, you’re wrong.” She turned toward the front of the store. “I’m a grown woman with my own money who intends to purchase this to save it from the bowels of Nazi destruction.” She marched to the register and bought the book. As she did so, the man perusing a shelf near the door caught her attention again. His hair was perfectly combed back, his perceptive gaze bright.
Awareness of his focus settled heavily over her as she was led to various shops through Lisbon despite not encountering him again. But like a painful memory, her thoughts drifted back toward the incident a thousand times over.
For the remainder of the day, she heeded James’s prudent suggestions. By the time he saw her home that evening, Ava was entirely drained. She scarcely recalled what he said to her as she pushed through the building’s large green door.
A dark apartment greeted her; a rare phenomenon she hadn’t experienced with her roommates in DC who always managed to make it home before her. She clicked on the lights, tucked the book she’d purchased alongside her small collection from home, and collapsed into bed.
She wasn’t sure how long she slept when an insistent pounding jarred her from her sleep. Dazed and bewildered, she shoved from her bed and stumbled into the living room, her steps visible by the glow of light lining her door.
Outside in the hall, Portuguese was spoken in aggressive tones, followed by a hollow thump and a man exhaling in an agonized grunt. Someone had been struck.
She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out herself and tiptoed to the peephole. Breath held, she silently slid the metal cover from the hole and leaned closer to peer through.
Men in black suits exited through the door at 102. They did not bother to look around to ensure they weren’t seen; they weren’t careful to be quiet. They didn’t care who knew of their presence.
Between two men, hanging by his arms with his bare feet dragging behind was the neighbor who had asked Ava for the copy of Time magazine. His hair was mussed and his head lolled toward his left shoulder.
The men slammed his door closed behind them and carried him down the stairs, beyond the scope of her vantage point. Shaking, she released the metal disk to return over the peephole as she backed away from the door, her bare feet silent. Her knees trembled, and she leaned against the wall for its support, her hands clasped over her frantically thudding heart.
Suddenly a vague memory of her own words rushed back to her.
You should have seen how happy my neighbor was with a copy of Time.
What a fool indeed. That statement had been said without thought, without the realization of what kind of repercussions it might have. She hadn’t thought Lukas was a Nazi, or that the Portuguese secret police might follow her, or that they might be in league with Lukas. But then, she hadn’t thought it such an issue to give away a copy of an American magazine.
There were only two apartments on their floor of the narrow building—hers and his. The PVDE would have no difficulty discerning which belonged to the man she’d given the magazine to.
And now her foolish words meant to fill in a gap of awkward conversation had caused her neighbor to be arrested in the middle of the night. Perhaps she might be next.
The thought was enough to jolt her from her fear-induced paralysis. She slid down the wall to the floor and hugged her legs to her chest, staring at the door.
If they came for her next, she did not want to be caught unaware.
SIX
Elaine
The following day, Elaine found herself in the company of Josette, Nicole, and Denise once more—this time to deliver the clandestine newsprint. They had already stuffed the papers into benign-looking envelopes with recipients’ addresses on them—without the names, of course. While it was generally best to memorize details, some bulk deliveries such as newspapers required at least the location.