If the sniper was out there, this was the morning Ty would set a trap for him. He found Sergeant Crandall and Kit Henderson at the hotel bar, where they had agreed to meet because a side door gave easy access to the cross-country ski trails surrounding the hotel. The two were getting an early start at the bar. Ike’s driver was drinking coffee, but Kit lifted a glass containing what looked suspiciously like bourbon. Ty carried a camel’s hair overcoat and an officer’s dress hat with all the insignia removed. He had managed to borrow a leather bomber jacket with sheepskin lining for himself, along with a ski cap.
“Hair of the dog?” Kit asked, offering him a drink. “I can’t wait to get back to work so my liver can go on vacation.”
“It’s too early for a drink,” Ty said.
“You’re always so damn righteous,” Kit muttered as he drained the glass. “What are you so wound up about?”
“Where the hell is Yancey?” Ty demanded. “I’ve been looking for him all morning.”
Kit just shrugged, but Crandall gave him a proper answer. “Last time I saw him was yesterday afternoon.”
“Damn. Does everybody in this army just do whatever the hell they want? Look, we’ve got to get moving. If we’re ever going to catch that sniper, today is the day.”
“You’re sure he’s out there?” Kit asked.
“We’re going to find out.” Ty shoved the coat and hat at Crandall. “Put these on.”
“But Captain —”
“That’s an order, Sergeant. I just hope that goddamn Yancey is out there with his rifle. Maybe he slipped out early this morning once the snow stopped.”
Crandall shrugged into the coat and put on the hat. The transformation was not altogether convincing — up close Crandall looked like an unshaven, mildly hung-over distant cousin of Ike’s — but from a distance it might just work. Ty flipped up the coat collar, which helped.
“Captain, it must be twelve degrees out there. I’ll freeze my ears off in this hat.”
“Toughen up, Crandall. You’re a general now.”
Kit reached for his own olive-drab overcoat, draped across the bar. Ty was surprised to discover that it had been concealing an M-1 rifle and a .45 automatic. “Insurance policy,” Kit explained. “One for each of us. Take your pick.”
“Can you hit anything with that?” Ty wondered, nodding at the rifle.
“Hey, I used to hunt rabbits when I was a kid.”
“That settles it.” Ty reached for the .45. “I shot a pistol once or twice in basic.”
Crandall was watching them, looking a little pale in the morning light. “I hope to hell Yancey is out there like he’s supposed to be.”
They started for the door; Ty was startled to see Petra hurrying toward them. She was wearing her coat, as if planning to venture outside with them. Petra had a look on her face that was somewhere between frightened and determined. Ty’s first thought was that something had happened to Eva.
“Captain Walker, wait please!”
“Petra. What’s the matter?”
“I must speak with you.” The girl glanced nervously at Ty’s two companions. “In private, if you please.”
Ty nodded at Crandall. “Go on ahead, Sergeant. I’ll catch up.” As the two men moved off, Ty turned back to Petra. “What is it?”
The girl dabbed at her eyes, and for a moment Ty was afraid that she was going to cry. Like most men, Ty would rather face a nest of machine guns than a tearful woman. Then Petra seemed to fight back the tears and a steely kind of resolve stole over her face. “Frau Von Stahl is a spy.”
“Petra, what in the world are you saying?”
“She has a radio in the attic that she uses to talk to submarines. She killed Colonel Fleischmann when he found out! She is trying to get information about the invasion you are planning.”
Ty felt himself turning cold. How in the world could this girl know about the invasion? “Who the hell is Colonel Fleischmann?”
“There is more,” Petra went on. “You know that man who tried to shoot General Eisenhower —”
Maybe he had told Eva too much. “But Petra, how can you possibly know about that?”
“He came to stay at our house. His name is Bruno Hess. Frau Von Stahl helped him.”
Now Ty felt as if he were being stabbed with an ice pick. Hess. He had read that name among the paperwork his friend had sent with Yancey. One of the best German snipers. Ty glanced anxiously toward the door that Crandall and Kit had just walked through. They stood just on the other side of the window, lighting cigarettes. Such easy targets. Beyond them he could see the snow-covered woods. The thought that the sniper might be watching them at that very moment made the flesh at the back of his neck crawl.
“Petra, what you are telling me is very serious. I know that Eva is not always kind to you —”
The girl’s eyes flashed. “You think that I am lying? If you do not believe me I will go to someone else. Frau Von Stahl is ruining everything for me! When she is caught they will think I am a spy too if I do not say something now.”
“I didn’t mean —”
“Look in her coat pocket,” Petra said. “She stole papers from General Eisenhower’s desk this morning. Search her for those papers and you will know I am telling the truth.”
Ty did not want to believe what he was hearing. But he had indeed found Eva in Ike’s suite that very morning. He sagged back onto one of the bar stools. “Where is she now?”
“She has used you like all the others, Captain,” the girl said. “She made you love her so that she could get close to the general. Don’t you see?”
“Petra, tell me where I can find Eva.”
“Out in front of the hotel, trying to dig out a car so we can get away from here.”
Ty forced himself to his feet. He felt dizzy. He walked to the door leading outside and jerked it open, then waved Crandall and Kit back inside. Quickly, he explained that something had come up and he needed a few minutes. Kit shrugged and went to pour himself another drink while Crandall had more coffee. Ty noticed that the driver’s hand was shaking as he brought the cup to his lips.
“Come with me,” he said to Petra and started toward the lobby. He walked so quickly that the girl practically had to run to keep up. The lobby was still almost empty at this hour and the snowfall had mired everything down so that no one was coming and going. The desk clerk was absent from his usual post. The porter saw the expression on Ty’s face and retreated behind the hotel counter. The single guard on duty gave him a quizzical look. Ty spotted Eva out front, almost knee-deep in drifted snow. She held a broom in both hands, struggling to sweep the snow off a Ford sedan. He ordered Petra to stay put and waded through the snow toward Eva.
“Ty. Darling,” she said as he approached. Her smile seemed strained. He couldn’t help but note that the intense cold had turned her cheeks an appealing apple red. “Have you come to help me?”
“Eva, where do you think you’re going? This is practically a blizzard. All the roads are buried under a foot of snow.”
“Something came up and I must get back to Washington. If I can just get to the train station —”
“Come inside, Eva.” His voice was sad, resigned.
“If you will help me get the snow off —”
“You’re not going anywhere. Let’s go inside.”
Eva ignored him and kept swiping furiously at the snow until Ty reached out and took hold of the broom. She struggled for a moment, not letting go. Ty put a second hand on the broom and took it away from her. He nodded for Eva to go ahead of him and they slogged through the snow to the narrow cleared path that led to the lobby doors.
Inside, the corporal on guard duty lurched to his feet. He seemed to sense that something was wrong and snapped to attention. Petra stood watching wide-eyed by the fireplace, where a roaring blaze kept the winter cold at bay.