Winfred

54

Official Report

British Intelligence

Code: 3986

Kathleen Winfred

I sat at my desk, going over the guard's reports, a job which Von Steubon had now entrusted me with.

I smiled again, even as I went over the report I was currently reading, thinking of Pirot going out of her way to figure out my birthday and make sure it was not forgotten. I briefly wondered how she had figured out the date, and what her "source" was.

At that moment, Von Steubon came to stand before my desk, dropping off a pile of papers with a solid thump.

"If you wouldn't mind, these need filed," he said, simply.

I immediately set down my pen. "You!" I said, standing quickly.

Von Steubon looked surprised, and he took a step backwards. "Excuse me?" he said, questioningly. "Ilsa?"

I shook my head in apology. "I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed. I looked up once more, facing him. "But it was you, wasn't it?"

He frowned, looking somewhat peeved with the entire conversation. In other words, he looked like the typical version of Von Steubon. "Forgive me, Ilsa," he said, his voice somewhat flat. "I have no idea what you are talking about. Therefore, if you want me to respond, you might try explaining what you mean."

I looked down, once more, embarrassed again, before glancing up at him. "My birthday," I said, quietly. "Pirot didn't know."

He raised an eyebrow, slightly, seeming to present only a front of indifference towards this interrogation. "Didn't know what, exactly?"

"My birthday," I stated. "The date of my birthday. April the sixth."

I saw him glance at the calendar next to my desk. "Perhaps," he said, simply, "She noticed the faint pencil mark around that particular date."

"You told her, didn't you?"

He picked up the pile of reports I had already finished, before meeting my eyes. "Now why would I do that?"

However, even as he turned away, I saw the traces of a smile grace his expression.