Diana stared at her, nonplussed. After a moment she said, "How can you talk about cocoa?"

"I just want you to calm down and realize that the world is not going to come to an end simply because you kissed Maude. You kissed me, once-remember?"

"I knew you'd bring that up. But that was just kid stuff With Maude, it wasn't just a kiss." Diana sat down. Her proud face crumpled and she began to cry. "You know it was more than that, you could see, oh, God, the things I did. What on earth did you think?"

Flick chose her words carefully. "I thought the two of you looked very sweet."

"Sweet?" Diana was incredulous. "You weren't disgusted?"

"Certainly not. Maude is a pretty girl, and you appear to have fallen in love with her."

"That's exactly what happened."

"So stop being ashamed."

"How can I not be ashamed? I'm queer!"

"I wouldn't look at it that way if I were you. You ought to be discreet, to avoid offending narrow-minded people such as Jelly, but there's no need for shame."

"Will I always be like this?"

Flick considered. The answer was probably yes, but she did not want to be brutal. "Look," she said, "I think some people, like Maude, just love to be loved, and they can be made happy by a man or a woman." In truth, Maude was shallow, selfish, and tarty, but Flick suppressed that thought firmly. "Others are more inflexible," she went on. "You should keep an open mind."

"I suppose that's the end of the mission for me and Maude."

"It most certainly is not."

"You'll still take us?"

"I still need you. And I don't see why this should make any difference."

Diana took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. Flick got up and went to the window, giving her time to recover her composure. After a minute, Diana spoke in a calmer voice. "You're frightfully kind," she said with a touch of her old hauteur.

"Go to bed," Flick said.

Diana got up obediently.

"And if I were you..

"What?"

"I'd go to bed with Maude."

Diana looked shocked.

Flick shrugged. "It may be your last chance," she said. "Thank you," Diana whispered. She stepped toward Flick and spread her arms, as if to hug her; then she stopped. "You may not want me to kiss you," she said.

"Don't be silly," Flick said, and embraced her.

"Goodnight," said Diana. She left the room.

Flick turned and looked out at the garden. The moon was three-quarters full. In a few days' time it would be full, and the Allies would invade France. A wind was disturbing the new leaves in the forest: the weather was going to change. She hoped there would not be a storm in the English Channel. The entire invasion plan could be ruined by the capricious British climate. She guessed a lot of people were praying for good weather.

She ought to get some sleep. She left the room and climbed the stairs. She thought of what she had said to Diana: I'd go to bed with Maude. It may be your last chance. She hesitated outside Paul's door. It was different for Diana-she was single. Flick was married.

But it might be her last chance.

She knocked at the door and stepped inside.

CHAPTER 26

SUNK IN GLOOM, Dieter returned to the chteau at Sainte-Ccile in the Citron with the radio detection team. He went to the wireless listening room in the bombproofed basement. Willi Weber was there, looking angry. The one consolation from tonight's fiasco, Dieter thought, was that Weber was not able to crow that he had succeeded where Dieter had failed. But Dieter could have put up with all the triumphalism Weber could muster in return for having Helicopter in the torture chamber.

"You have the message he sent?" Dieter asked.

Weber handed him a carbon copy of the typed message. "It has already been sent to the cryptanalysis office in Berlin."

Dieter looked at the meaningless strings of letters. "They won't be able to decode it. He's using a one-time pad." He folded the sheet and slipped it into his pocket.

"What can you do with it?" Weber said.

"I have a copy of his code book," Dieter said. It was a petty victory, but he felt better.

Weber swallowed. "The message may tell us where he is."

"Yes. He's scheduled to receive a reply at eleven p.m." He looked at his watch. It was a few minutes before eleven. "Let's record that, and I will decrypt the two together."

Weber left. Dieter waited in the windowless room. On the dot of eleven, a receiver tuned to Helicopter's listening frequency began to chatter with the long-and-short beeps of Morse. An operator wrote the letters down while at the same time a wire recorder ran. When the chattering stopped, the operator pulled a typewriter toward him and typed out what he had on his notepad. He gave Dieter a carbon copy.

The two messages could be everything or nothing, Dieter thought as he got behind the wheel of his own car. The moon was bright as he followed the twisting road through the vineyards to Reims and parked in the rue du Bois. It was good weather for an invasion.

Stephanie was waiting for him in the kitchen of Mademoiselle Lemas's house. He put the coded messages on the table and took out the copies Stephanie had made of the pad and the silk handkerchief. He rubbed his eyes and began to decode the first message, the one Helicopter had sent, writing the decrypt on the scratch pad Mademoiselle Lemas had used to make her shopping lists.

Stephanie brewed a pot of coffee. She looked over his shoulder for a while, asked a couple of questions, then took the second message and began to decode it herself.

Dieter's decrypt gave a concise account of the incident at the cathedral, naming Dieter as Charenton and saying he had been recruited by Bourgeoise (Mademoiselle Lemas) because she was worried about the security of the rendezvous. It said Monet (Michel) had taken the unusual step of phoning Bourgeoise to confirm that Charenton was trustworthy, and he was satisfied.

It listed the code names of those members of the Bollinger circuit who had not fallen in the battle last Sunday and were still active. There were only four.

It was useful, but it did not tell him where to find the spies.

He drank a cup of coffee while he waited for Stephanie to finish. She handed him a sheet of paper covered with her flamboyant handwriting.

When he read it, he could hardly believe his luck. It said: