I never saw Edgar again. He specially dressed me in a dark black dress, which ended up being his mourning dress.
The ruins were searched carefully, but Edgar's body was not found. The soldiers who stayed behind reported to Andermon, but they did not see anyone coming out of it. In the end, the intelligence bureau determined that the "young eagle" was dead and wrote a long report.
But I think he is still alive.
Edgar was in the habit of locking his paintings in a light iron box, which he took with him when he moved house. Most of those paintings are about us. For example, when he hugged my waist from behind and entered my body, I straightened my back in pain and raised my head. The pictures are always in the evening, and the setting sun shines in from the window, coating the white sheets Nostalgic gold. There were deep purple-blue daisies he had brought by the bed. When he was in captivity, he always used to bring me a small gift from outside, a small bouquet of wild flowers, or a bag of candies.
Some of these paintings are real, some are just based on his imagination.
He once carefully locked these paintings, and told me with a smile that his happiness was contained in this tin box.
I flipped through the search report submitted by my subordinates to Andymond, and there was a long list of items attached to it. The list is full of things, big and small, including a dining table burned to the point of being barely recognizable, a pen found in a crack in the wall, the twisted remains of a chandelier. But I can't find any record of that tin box.
It's gone.
It was as if Edgar had left this world with it.
Before the war, the government had advocated that Londoners dig air-raid shelters in their back gardens to resist Nazi air raids. I don't know if the Jewish couple did this, or if there is such a tunnel, where its entrance is and where the exit leads.
Anyway, this is just my personal guesswork. From that day on, the activities of the young eagle disappeared from the communication records of Berlin intelligence and were never seen again.
Anderson told me Edgar was dead.
He hugged me tightly and said softly: "Alan, he is indeed dead. No one can survive the bombing and fire like that. Our soldiers searched carefully and found no tunnel in the air-raid shelter. You are deceiving yourself .”
I cannot return to work at Plimpton Manor for a long time. Arnold said that in order to prevent me from escaping, Edgar added muscle-relaxing drugs to my food, and taking it for a long time would have a great impact on my body. He gave me a medical certificate and asked me to rest for a while.
So I just lived in Andymond's villa, doing nothing, getting up every day, sitting by the window, reading a book, listening to the radio, and sleeping.
The air strikes continued, and bombs fell in the neighborhood not far away.
Andemon told me not to worry, it's safe here.
I don't know why he said that, in fact until the end of the war, the next block was reduced to ruins, but the place where we were was still safe.
Andemon was away most of the time, only coming back on weekends. As soon as I heard the sound of the key turning the door lock, I rushed down the stairs, leaned on the decorative vase in the living room, put on a pose that I thought was cool, and winked at him: "Baby, I think I have all the strength in my body, and I can go back Plimpton Manor."
He looked me up and down, and locked the door firmly: "Oh? Then I'll try."
Then he threw me on the bed and tried it out in various positions.
He calmly commented: "Honey, your groans are even quieter, take a rest for a while. I still have me in Office No. 1."
Anderson didn't ask me what happened when I was with Edgar, and I didn't tell him. I think he knew, but couldn't be blamed. Every time I do|love him after I come back, he is very crazy, the time is very long, and I change different positions. If I cry out in pain, he won't stop, he will just gently kiss my bare|exposed back, and then push harder.
Every time I was tortured to death, my voice was hoarse. When I was pressed against the window, I couldn't even stand upright, my knees trembled, and I needed him to hold my waist. After it was over, he bowed his head and kissed me, and said, "Alan, you see that your groan|groaning sound has become smaller, let's rest for a while."
After a while I would bring up to go back to work and the same thing would happen all over again.
He never took the initiative to talk about Edgar. I mentioned it many times. He just said, "The eagle is dead, Alan. You don't have to think about it. Everyone dies, don't you?"
The lavender-blossoming September passed, and Arnold came to see me once. He was leaning on the cotton sofa printed with small floral prints in Anderson, smoking, and helped me review.
The psychiatrist was very emotional: "I saw my ex-boyfriend in someone else's house."
I was very moved by the days when I hooked my shoulders, and asked him: "How are you and your little girlfriend?"
He took a puff of cigarette sadly and sentimentally: "It's divided."
"A new one?"
"No."
He took my pulse and heartbeat, and stretched the muscles in his arm: "Recovering well. Oh, little Ellen, you screw yourself up so badly every time. I saw it at the chicks. When you were there, I almost thought you couldn't survive."
He lay back on the back of the sofa, crossed his legs, and said very chicly: "Alan, do you still remember that we said that we went to the Lake District to see lavender in September?"
"October is coming soon, and the harvest should be by now. Next year?"
He narrowed his eyes: "OK."
Before leaving, Arnold seemed to be hesitating. Finally he asked me, "Ellen, have you asked Mr. Garcia?"
"What?"
"Do you not know, or pretend not to know?"
I couldn't look him in the eye.
Arnold hugged me hard, and his voice was very gentle: "Go and talk to Mr. Garcia. You can avoid it now, but can you avoid it for the rest of your life? Of course, my dear, it is best for you to break up."
In early October, I returned to Plimpton Manor. Andemont was reading documents in his office in the red building. Peter waited with his arms folded against the wall of the corridor, and opened the door for me. The room smelled of black coffee.
I went over and helped him add milk and sugar cubes to his coffee mug.
"Baby, it's not good for your stomach to drink like this all the time."
Andremeng smiled wearily, spread his legs, and leaned back on the chair: "I'm very tired, Alan, sit down."
I closed the office door, walked over, sat on his lap, and kissed his collarbone exposed under his open shirt: "I love you."
His opal-like eyes closed slightly, hugged my waist, and began to untie my belt: "Oh, Alan, I love you too."
He answered two calls with his eyes closed, and reached into my trousers. I rested my chin on his shoulder, waited patiently for him to hang up the phone, and leaned into his ear and whispered: "Baby, if you have a choice, me or the intelligence agency, which side would you choose?"
Almost immediately he replied, "You."
"Liar," I said. "All letters to and from Plimpton Manor are censored. When did you find out that Edgar's letter to me was on outdated RAF letter paper?"
I reached out and hooked his chin: "Baby, when you sent me away, didn't you think that Edgar would really kill me?"
I felt Andemon's body stiffen. He slowly opened his eyes, pulled off my belt, and pressed me against the desk: "Honey, what are you talking about?"
"I was wondering, since when did you find out that Edgar was a baby eagle?"
Andrew did not answer me. As if he couldn't hear what I was asking, he suddenly pushed me onto the large desk and forcibly tore off my shirt. My back hurts from hitting the hard table and I tell him to stop, but it doesn't help. He kisses me until I can't make a sound, then pushes his knees against my legs and kisses the inside of my thigh until I give up in pleasure. I tried this kind of questioning several times later, and each time it ended with Andmon's silent sex|love. He would never answer me, just use violent aggression to make me lose the strength to ask him again.
Before the thrill of the summit took away the last trace of thinking, I sadly recalled the episode of asking for leave to accompany Edgar to Cambridge. I said I was going to see Edgar, and Andremon just smiled and said, then I will drive you. I said no. He kissed me and said nothing more.
When he was rescued, the whole house was surrounded by soldiers with guns, and Andmon stood among them like a grim reaper. At first I thought they were there to save me, but then I realized they were there to make sure the chicks died.
It was a trap from the beginning, and Andremon watched me gently jump into it, and then rescued me when I was close to the limit.
By watching my movements, he watched Edgar and got hold of all the German spies with whom he had been in contact. Our last days in hiding were safe, and the German spies who had been chasing Edgar like hounds suddenly disappeared like steam. I was very lucky at first, but now I realize that they should all be disposed of by Andemont.
I understand Andremund, he needs to get rid of the young eagle, Berlin's agent in London, and destroy the Nazi intelligence network. I just wish he had given me a tiny reminder beforehand, even if it was just "Ellen, be careful on the road".
I started trying to stop thinking about it and concentrate on deciphering the code. I set my goal on the password that was similar to "mystery", but the decryption machine could not decipher it. Because of the same password, Office One has received three copies.
Autumn came upon the war, and the broad leaves of the plane trees were shedding in the streets of London.
I finally cracked the code.
It's a hand-encrypted cipher, so thinking in computer terms doesn't work at all. I was able to unlock it purely by coincidence.
In the long process of searching for the key, I boredly tried my own birthday.
The plaintext is very short, only one word and one punctuation mark.
Alan Custer