The Undercover Secretary

THE UNDERCOVER SECRETARY BASED ON A TRUE STORY, AN UNPUTDOWNABLE AND HEARTBREAKING WORLD WAR TWO NOVEL ELLIE MIDWOOD BOOKS BY ELLIE MIDWOOD The Undercover Secretary The Wife Who Risked Everything The White Rose Network The Girl on the Platform The Girl Who Survived The Girl in the Striped Dress The Girl Who Escaped from Auschwitz The Violinist of Auschwitz Available in audio The Wife Who Risked Everything (Available in the UK and the US) The White Rose Network (Available in the UK and the US) The Girl on the Platform (Available in the UK and the US) The Girl Who Survived (Available in the UK and the US) The Girl in the Striped Dress (Available in the UK and the US) The Girl Who Escaped from Auschwitz (Available in the UK and the US) The Violinist of Auschwitz (Available in the UK and the US) CONTENTS Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Epilogue The Girl Who Escaped from Auschwitz Prologue Chapter 1 Hear More from Ellie Books by Ellie Midwood A Letter from Ellie and a note on the history The Wife Who Risked Everything The White Rose Network The Girl on the Platform The Girl Who Survived The Girl in the Striped Dress The Violinist of Auschwitz Acknowledgments * To Vlada, Natalia, Beatrice, Sabina, and Nadya. Thank you for the new home! PROLOGUE LYON, FRANCE. JULY 1942 The blindfold was finally taken off my eyes. I rubbed them against the blinding light of the lamp—the only source of illumination in the dark, moldy cellar I’d been taken to. Slowly, feature by stern, unforgiving feature, a man’s face came into focus. Dark, unshaven, full of shadows and ruthlessness, he regarded me for a very long time while I sat, dizzy and disoriented, in the rickety chair across the table from him. “How did you find us?” he finally asked. A Frenchman; local, not a capital import. “I was looking.” My voice sounded like a crow’s, hoarse and alien. I hadn’t drunk in what seemed like days, avoiding forest streams, due to the doubtful water, and village wells, out of fear of someone spotting and reporting me. Towns and cities were out of the question altogether. Not with my German accent and the absence of any identification papers, at any rate. “A smart mouth, aren’t you? Do you know what we do with smart little Nazis like you?” The Frenchman produced a long hunting knife and turned it deliberately in his great paws. Its blade glistened menacingly in the light of the lamp, but I was too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to be intimidated by such trifles as death. “You can kill me right this instant. Honestly, it makes no difference to me. I’ve already lost all I had to lose ONE BERLIN. FEBRUARY 1933 …Just the manner in which the customer marched toward my counter spelled trouble. Built like an outhouse, square and squat, she bore through the aisles of clothes like a great warship, all guns trained on me, a nameless salesgirl. Smoothing my uniform—a blue robe with the store’s name embroidered over my heart—I pulled my face into a mask of servitude. This, too, was the uniform I wore. The customer is always right and all that rot. “Good afternoon. How may I be of service to you to—” “Just look at what you sold me!” She opened fire without allowing me as much as to finish my greeting. Her face a picture of indignation, she unraveled the bundle she’d brought with her and hurled a fur coat, with its silk lining undone, onto the counter. I hadn’t sold her anything—Wally, who worked the Tuesday and Thursday shifts, must have done—but I had long ago grown used to customers instantly forgetting the face of the salesperson who had assisted them with their purchase before they’d even set foot outside the store. With the customer’s pale blue eyes boring into me, I examined the coat from top to bottom. It was a handsome affair, one of our most expensive ones, silver blue mink with a standing collar and buttons made of Czech rhinestones. Sometimes, just before closing, Wally and I took turns trying them on in a