Major Ziegler stood at the front door to Emilie Dufort’s apartment while Sergeant Bayer waited in the car. He wanted to speak to her alone. If he remained in Paris, he wanted to nurture their relationship. She could prove to be a valuable asset.
When no one answered, he glanced at his watch and knocked again, harder than the first time. He turned to Bayer and shrugged. But a moment later, the door opened, and he was greeted by Emilie Dufort.
“Good evening, Major,” she said in German. “Please come in.”
Ziegler eyed her curiously. She was flush, seemed anxious, but he didn’t know why. “Is your husband home?” he asked as she led him through the foyer and into the parlor.
“No, not at the moment,” she said. “He comes home at different times, depending on what he might be doing. Sometimes he
