“Mrs. Carey, this is Marie Bohn. She is the secretary of Pieter Gunter, a professor of German at Royal Imperial University,” said Dennison.
Marie’s heart pounded as Hazel slowly said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bohn.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Carey,” she managed.
“Yesterday, Miss Bohn’s employer fled the country. We believe that he booked a place on a ship out of Southampton. It’s likely that he is going to either America or Australia, but we’ve wired all passenger ships at sea and he doesn’t appear on any manifest. In all likelihood, Gunter is using a false name and false papers,” said Dennison.
“Why are you looking for him?” asked Hazel.
“When he was a university student, he was intimate friends with several men who now hold positions of some power in Berlin. We have reason to believe that he is still in contact with them and may be sympathetic to their cause,” said Dennison.
“But that can’t be.” The words were out of Marie’s mouth before she could stop herself.
“Several letters addressed to him that have been intercepted led me to believe otherwise, Miss Bohn.”
“But what could he possibly do as a German professor at a university? It isn’t as though he has access to any great state secrets,” she said.
“We must investigate all potential sympathizers. A name came up in our investigation: Emily Boyne. I believe Mr. Gunter met her through this agency,” said Dennison.
“I don’t usually speak about clients, but given the circumstances, I can say that Mrs. Boyne is an older woman, quite respectable. Her husband died eight or nine years back, and she’s only just now felt strong enough to think about starting a new life.”
“What nationality is Mrs. Boyne?” asked Dennison.
“British.”
“When was the last time that you made an arrangement for Mrs. Boyne?”
“When I introduced her to Herr Gunter,” said Hazel. “But that was some time ago.”
“You are remarkably confident about your answers without referring to any notes,” said Dennison.
Marie fought to keep her eyes on Hazel’s face and not the small key that hung from a ribbon tied to Hazel’s skirts. It was the key to the safe—a key- and combination-operated contraption—that held the agency’s hundreds of client cards. Marie had seen Hazel sort through them before, but she’d never been allowed to see what was written on any card. The information on there was extremely private.
“I’ve often been told that I have a remarkable memory, Mr. Dennison. It’s useful in my trade,” said Hazel.
Dennison grunted. “Did Gunter specifically ask for Mrs. Boyne?”
“No. He wouldn’t have known her identity until I had secured permission from the lady to make the introduction. It helps preserve the privacy and safety of our clients.”
“Are you aware that Mrs. Boyne’s father is a government official?”
“Yes,” said Hazel.
“And you don’t think it suspicious that a woman with a father in government was being courted by a man who is a German sympathizer?” asked Dennison.
“Unless your investigation is a foregone conclusion, I believe you mean to say if he was a sympathizer.” When Dennison didn’t amend his statement, Hazel folded her arms and leaned back in her leather chair. “I find it strange that you should consider this match suspicious. There’s little extraordinary about it. Mrs. Boyne and Herr Gunter met months before war was declared. I never mentioned the lady’s parentage, and he did not make any specific request to be matched with Mrs. Boyne. If he had, I wouldn’t have been needed because presumably he would’ve been able to effect an introduction himself. And so, Mr. Dennison, I believe you’re chasing ghosts.”
Dennison grunted again and turned to Marie. “Miss Bohn, you were Herr Gunter’s secretary.”
“I was the department’s secretary,” Marie said, correcting him again.
“Yet you claim to have no knowledge of Mrs. Boyne?” asked Dennison.
“Except for the one time he mentioned an Emily right after we’d found out about the invasion,” Marie replied. She felt as though she were dancing on the edge of a knife blade, lying to him about Hazel and the agency. Lying to him about anything else would only spin a larger web.
“Did you ever make bookings for Gunter? Arrange any of his domestic duties?” Dennison asked her.
“Yes. I did on occasion,” she said, thinking back to all of the theater tickets, dinner and lunch reservations, and train journeys she’d booked for him. Sometimes Herr Gunter had treated her more like a personal secretary than the woman who ran the university’s office should’ve been, but wasn’t that what all slightly puffed-up men like him did?
“And yet he did not see fit to use your services when he was going to see Mrs. Boyne,” said Dennison.
“He was a private man,” said Marie with a shrug.
“I think that we can assume that Gunter was taking pains to cover up his relationship with Mrs. Boyne,” said Dennison.
“That’s sounding like rather a stretch, Mr. Dennison,” said Hazel with a laugh.
“I’d like to see your records, Mrs. Carey. The ones you claim you don’t need in order to remember a client you matched so many months ago,” said Dennison.
“No,” said Hazel.
“I’m sorry?” asked Dennison.
“No,” Hazel repeated.
“It is not wise to say no to the Home Office,” said Dennison.
“And yet here I am, doing just that,” said Hazel. “If you would like to complain, you may speak to my employer, Lady Moreton.”
For the first time since he’d walked into the German Department, Dennison looked thrown. “The wife of Sir Gregory Moreton?”
Marie smiled at the way the prominent banker’s name seemed to shake the man.
“That’s right,” said Hazel, clearly enjoying Dennison’s discomfort, too.
“Then you are not the owner?” he asked.
“No. I am the primary matchmaker and run the day-to-day business, but Lady Moreton owns the establishment,” said Hazel.
Dennison snapped his mouth shut, and for a moment Marie thought he might let all of this go, but then he straightened his shoulders. “Mrs. Carey, I’ll be frank with you. Agencies such as this one have come under scrutiny by the Home Office due to the nature of your business.”
“What is that nature?” Hazel asked.
“Engineering marriages.”
Hazel threw her head back and laughed loud, some of the brassiness Marie knew she’d fought to refine over the years peeking through. “Some would say that we’re in the business of love and happiness, but if you must insist on calling it engineering…”
“We are at war, Mrs. Carey. This is not a time for bright-eyed idealism. The Home Office has identified a number of ways that enemy agents may try to infiltrate Britain.”
“Are you really that worried about German men marrying British women?” Hazel asked.
“Or Austrian men. And women, too. The Germans aren’t above exploiting the weaker sex. We learned that in the last war,” said Dennison. “I believe that Gunter was attempting to marry Emily Boyne in order to establish a stronger claim to this country and avoid any restrictive designation when he went before his tribunal. This would allow him to continue to operate as an informant for his friends back at home in Germany.”