Winfred

88

Official Report

British Intelligence

Code: 3986

Kathleen Winfred

A few days later, I discovered at least part of the problem. He had been called away for a few weeks, similar to the circumstances that had, at one point, occurred when I was a prisoner.

And Heinrich Schwab would be taking his place as head of the prison for a little while.

He told me that he didn’t know exactly what to do. He said that there were a limited number of options. I could simply lay low while Schwab was here. Perhaps I could be sent to stay in town until Schwab was gone, avoiding seeing him, for he could possibly recognize me. I could continue to serve as Schwab’s secretary, but the risk of him recognizing me was too great.

I interrupted him, telling him that it was common for officers to be accompanied by their secretaries. I could go with him. Part of me felt that, if I were to accompany him, I could make sure he was alright.

However, he told me that that was not an option. As he said it, he avoided my eyes, his expression seeming troubled. He said, continuing to look at the ground, that there would not be anything for me to do.

“But surely, if it’s just meetings, I could take notes or something…”

“No,” he said, firmly, finally looking up. His voice was harsher than it had been towards me since my days as a prisoner. I was somewhat startled, but I held my chin high and looked his straight in the eye, my brow slightly furrowed in frustration and confusion.

Something akin to regret flashed in his eyes, but quickly vanished.

“No,” he repeated. “I’ve said no, and you need to accept that. If you do not, there will have to be consequences.”

The first time he had ever threatened to punish me.

“But…Why?” I said. “Wouldn’t you be glad for company?”

He stiffened, and his eyes narrowed. “No,” he said. “I would not. As to “why”…It is dangerous. There are too many risks.” He was silent, but he eventually turned back towards his desk. “I believe,” he said, “that I will arrange for you to stay in town, perhaps at a small inn or some such place…”

“No,” I said.

He whirled around, looking angry and frustrated that I had not answered as he wished.

“No,” I repeated. “I’ll stay here. I’ll work with Pirot. I’ll do something. I’m not leaving, though.”

He opened his mouth, as if to argue, but immediately shut it. “I suppose,” he said, grudgingly, “that I cannot stop you. Here you shall remain.”

The next day, he was gone.