Soul Intent (26 page)

“A bit. But the water’s still sneaking up me back.”

She bent down as far as she could and reached past his shoulders. Her fingertips touched the cold water, and she quickly stood up and looked around the shaft. There was nothing left to use.

Yes, there was. She stripped off her sweater and shirt, then bent back down and jammed them behind him. Then she used her pants, each leg filling the crack between the tunnel wall and his knees.

She grabbed the lamp and checked her work. “I think the leaks are plugged,” she said. She climbed up and knelt at the edge of the chute.

He gave a faint smile. “You can’t pull me out now.”

“I’ll go to town and get help.”

He looked up at her somberly. “Flora, don’t waste your time.”

“But I can get help.”

He shook his head. “Flora, I won’t last much longer. The water is cold, I can’t feel me legs, and I’m so sleepy.” He closed his eyes.

“Major, wake up!” She struggled to keep the panic out of her voice.

His eyes opened, but soon they slid shut. “Can you do something for me?” he whispered.

“Anything,” she sobbed. “Just hold on. I know we can figure something out.”

“Come here.”

She dropped into the tunnel and crouched next to him.

“Put the light out,” he said. “Save it for when you leave.”

The tears streamed down her face, but she wiped them away as she stood up and extinguished the lamp. Then she crouched down next to him again.

“Flora,” he breathed.

“Yes, Major?”

“I’m cold.”

So was she, but she wiggled around, found his head with her hands, and pressed his face into her bosom. She ran her fingers through his hair. They both shivered, and she squeezed him close. She decided to keep him talking. “Tell me about the opals,” she said.

“The opals were bloody brilliant,” he whispered so softly she had to bend her head down to hear him.

“So the nest was real,” she whispered back.

“Just like old Raddy said.” Callaghan’s words slurred together. “I can see them now, Flora. The opals—they’re beauties.”

“Tell me about the prettiest one you see.” She choked back her sobs, but she couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face and dripping onto his cheeks.

“Bright red and green and blue—it’s singing to me, Flora. Can you hear it?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to focus on the red spots flashing across her vision. “I can almost see it.”

“Listen to it, Flora. It’s singing that I’ll be right, and you’ll make it back to Paris.”

“I will?”

“Can’t you hear it?”

She squeezed him even tighter. “I can through you, Major.”

“Good. Now it’s calling to me. I’ve got to go with it, Flora. Hold me as I go.”

“I’ll hold you.” She stroked his hair. “Goodbye, Major,” she whispered as he gave a long exhale. “Goodbye.”

Flora stayed and held Major Ned Callaghan until his skin grew cold and the water seeped around her plugs and crept up to her waist. She forced herself to stand up, and with her teeth chattering and her body shivering almost uncontrollably, she climbed out of the tunnel, groped for the lamp in the dark, and headed up the ladder.

She reached the top, found the matches, and lit the lamp. She realized she didn’t plug the hole, and she climbed down the ladder again.

Back at the bottom of the shaft, she failed to wedge the wooden plug into the hole in the floor because Dieter’s rope prevented a snug fit. She pulled on the knot, but her fingers were too numb to untie it. So she jammed in the plug as tight as she could and climbed up the ladder. She closed the wooden trap door over the top of the shaft and stumbled her way out of the alcove, up through the tunnels, and back to the surface.

forty-four

Present Day

Dubnik Mine, Slovakia

Rose and Marie flanked Madame Flora, each with an arm around her. The firelight sparkled in the tears running down the twins’ cheeks.

“How’d you make it back to Paris, Grandma?” Marie asked.

“Most of the trip was a blur,” Madame Flora said. “I dug through my belongings and got dressed. I found a sweater and some money in Old Ned’s luggage. Then I cut the horses loose from their wagons and rode one of them, barefoot, to Presov. I just barely made that train.”

George tossed a stick into the flames. “You know, if you had taken the time to plug that hole correctly, Flora, we wouldn’t need diving gear tomorrow.”

“If I had plugged that hole correctly, somebody else would have stolen the gold,” Madame Flora said.

“Who would have gotten it?” I asked. “The Nazis?”

She nodded. “Back in the forties, before the Soviets took over, I got in contact with the mine’s owners. I learned that the captain of the barge didn’t buy my story of both Dieter and Major Callaghan having an accident in Bratislava.”

“He was a Nazi?” Val asked.

“No, but he shared his suspicions with them, and they followed our trail to Presov. Then they found old Vlado. He brought them to the mine and told them my story about the vampires.” She looked at George. “If the mine hadn’t flooded, they would have found and taken the gold.”

Archie had been sitting and staring into the camp fire. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “Wait a minute—the journal in my desk drawer—it was yours!” he said.

I threw a glance at Val, and she gave me a tiny smile.

Archie pointed at me. “And that is how Scott figured out you stole the gold,” he said.

“What are you talking about, Archibald?” Madame Flora’s voice was sharp.

“The journal in Hermann Goering’s soul line collection,” he said. “It must have been yours—and Scott must have figured out how to read it.”

“It was my journal.” She glanced me. “But not anymore—I snuck in your office and burnt it up. Didn’t you notice?”

“You destroyed Soul Identity property?” He stood up and shook his finger at her. “How dare you!”

She shrugged. “You had already left a copy for Scott, anyway. I wasted my time.”

“What did you write in there, Flora? You need to tell me everything.”

Madame Flora shook her head. “There is so much you don’t understand.”

Archie dropped his hand, but he remained standing, staring at her. After a minute, he said, “If I do not understand, I must request that you enlighten me, Flora. Enlighten us all.”

Madame Flora’s face flushed. “You can’t handle the whole story.”

“You could give me the chance!” His shout echoed off the hillside.

Val looked at her. “Maybe he’s right, Flora,” she said softly. “Maybe you shouldn’t wait any longer.”

Madame Flora let out a groan. She patted Rose and Marie’s hands, then let go and stood up. She walked up to Archie and put her hands on her hips. “Sit back down,” she told him. “Then we can trade secrets.”

Archie returned to his chair. “I have hidden no secrets from you.”

She sat between the twins and took their hands again. “I’ll ask you one question, Archibald,” she said. “And if you’re honest with your answer, I’ll tell you everything.”

He nodded.

Madame Flora took a deep breath and glanced at Val, who smiled at her. Then she stared at Archie. “Do you ever wish things between us worked out differently?” she asked.

Archie broke her gaze and looked at the fire. “Why are you asking me this?” he whispered.

“It’s the price of the whole story,” she said.

Archie glanced at George and Sue, then at Val and me. He dropped his eyes back to the fire and grimaced. “Yes,” he whispered.

Madame Flora leaned forward. “I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes.” He raised his eyes to meet hers.

“Yes what?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I wish things between us had worked out differently.”

She nodded. Her features softened. “How?”

His eyes narrowed. “I answered your question honestly.”

She shook her head. “I need more.”

He looked down and let out a long sigh. “You understand that I have dedicated my current life to Soul Identity.”

“You have put them before everything else,” Madame Flora said.

He nodded. “Even ahead of my own needs. Every decision I ever made was factored against whether or not it aligned with the organization.”

“But at what cost?” she asked.

“At all costs,” Archie said. “I want the rest of your story, Flora. But as you suggested, first listen to mine.”

forty-five

June 1949

Sterling, Massachusetts

Archibald Morgan knocked on Flora’s guest house door. He smiled when he heard the sound of running feet.

The door swung open, and little Jamie grabbed Morgan’s legs in a tight embrace. The boy looked up and gave him a big toothy grin.

Morgan reached down and tousled his dark curly hair. “Hello, Jamie,” he said.

The boy reached up and grabbed his hand and led him into the guest room quarters.

Morgan reached into his pocket.

Jamie giggled and jumped up and down.

Morgan smiled and squatted next to him. He held out his fist and allowed Jamie to force it open.

The boy squealed and grabbed the three Tootsie Rolls lying in Morgan’s palm. He ran through a door in the back of the room. “Mommy, candy!” he hollered.

Morgan heard a voice reply, “What did I say about candy before dinner?”

“It is only three pieces,” Morgan called. “Besides, today is a special day.”

Then Flora walked into the room. She untied her apron, unpinned her hair, and ran her fingers through her long, dark curls. She wore a white sleeveless evening gown, and a single ruby pendant dangled from a fine gold chain around her neck. “Mr. Morgan,” she said, “how nice to see you.”

She grew more beautiful every day. When she crossed the room and kissed his cheek, he caught a whiff of the Chanel No. 5 he bought her the previous Christmas.

“Happy birthday, Flora,” he said.

She smiled and gave him a curtsy. “Thank you.” She gestured toward the sofa. “I need another minute or two, and we’ll have to wait for Mrs. Beasley before we can go.”

Morgan sat and watched her sweep out of the room. He closed his eyes and brought to mind the image of the thin and ragged seventeen-year-old appearing in Nuremberg almost three years ago. She had blossomed since then.

He felt a tugging on his trousers, and he opened his eyes to Jamie’s smile. He cupped the toddler’s red cheeks in his palms. “Did you eat all that candy already?” he asked with a knowing smile.

Jamie nodded and beamed. Then Flora called, and the toddler ran out the back of the room.

Morgan sat back. Where had the time gone? Next month would be Jamie’s second birthday; Flora said she was going to bake him a Howdy Doody cake.

The little boy brought joy to the whole office. Every weekday at three, when Mrs. Beasley marched him up to the second floor and into the overseer section, the ladies would gather around and fuss over him and pinch his rosy cheeks.

And Jamie soaked it up, flirting with each of them in turn. Freshly awake from his nap, he would giggle and laugh as the ladies played with him. Even Morgan would get in on the fun, putting the boy into his big overseer chair and spinning him around.

Yes, life in the Soul Identity office these days shone a lot brighter, now that Flora had accepted a position as his special assistant. She and her son had brought balance into the politically-charged halls.

And today was Flora’s twentieth birthday. Her coming-of-age, as far as Soul Identity was concerned. She would now join the ancient organization as a full-fledged member.

It had not been an easy journey for Flora. After reaching America, she and her grandmother and soon Jamie kept to themselves in these same rooms. But then her grandmother passed away a little over a year ago, and with nowhere else to go, Flora turned to him for help.

Morgan was reluctant at first. Yes, he retained some twinges of residual guilt from the Nuremberg assignment, but he had paid her for her work, and he had brought her and her grandmother to America. Jamie too, for apparently Flora had gotten herself pregnant before they reached Boston.

In any case, it was only after he met the baby that he decided to see what he could do for Flora. Jamie captured his attention in ways he could not explain. Morgan had never asked Flora who the father was, and she had never volunteered. The rumor mill in the office had her in a love affair with a famous Croatian freedom fighter, and he hoped this was true. He certainly didn’t want Jamie to be the son of James Little the elevator man.

Not that he was jealous, but nobody needed a mental cripple for a father figure. Morgan had made sure Little had been well cared for upon their return to Sterling, and he was a good and dependable Soul Identity worker. His sacrifice to the organization was something all employees could point to and be proud of.