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resolve nearly faltered. “Oh   —son.” He resisted the urge to caress that head. “Maybe I don’t know what I’m asking of you. But the packet is so important that I am alone. I trust no one but you. We must find it and get it home. The world needs to know, so that we can do something about it. Your father was to bring the packet to theStates. I had arranged for a meeting between him and Congressman Wilson, when we got word of . . . his death. The journalist told me that your father   —” No. Not that, not yet. Maybe not ever. “That . . . he told an English bishop about the packet. This bishop has the ear of Anthony Eden, and Eden has Churchill. Churchill, God willing, will one day have Roosevelt.”
    Murray was very still, his face impassive, and white, and hard.
    “Look around you. Would I have risked this if it were not true? Would I have come all this way, would I have left Helen   —”
    Murray snatched his hat and stood abruptly.
    “Murray   —no! Wait!”
    He was nearly to the exit when he stopped, turned, and came back. His face was as cold as his voice. “Two days out on the Atlantic, I get a call to the captain’s room. Helen sent a cable. Baby was born May 7. It’s a boy. You’re a father, Father. Congratulations and I got you a cigar. And now it’s two you left. Just like my old man.” He shook his head. “I came to fetch you home, knowin’ all the while you don’t deserve them, not when you pull a stunt like this, but I’ll tell you what   —that kid ain’t growin’ up without a father. Not her kid. You think I care about some packet? I’ll get you out if I gotta bust you out ’cause you ain’t some savior, not anymore   —you got a family. You made that choice, and if you won’t take care of them   —” he shook his head, lip curled in disgust   — “savin’ the world don’t matter. It’s lost already if a man can’t take care of his own.” His tone lowered. “You listen to me: Something happens to you ’cause of this, then I’m moving in, I’m taking over, I’m Helen’s man. I’ll raise that kid as mine, and I ain’t ever gonna tell him about you. Ever. You just think about that, Padre.”
    He went to the door, slammed it on the way out. A notice of rules fell from the back of the door.
    So much to sort through, so much all at once, but one thing shone clear   —for the first time since David had known him, Murrayhadn’t thrown a fit when very angry. He stayed calm. He kept it under control. He acted like a man.
    He leapt to his feet, shouting, “Well done, Murray! Well done!”

    “What difference does it make if he has more than one visitor in a day?” Clare Childs demanded of the man behind the desk. “You’re saying I have to pay another fare to come all the way from Teddington   —with a miserable amount of changes, not to mention the time it took . . .”
    “I don’t make the rules.”
    She pressed her fingers against a headache. “Well, if I can’t get in to see him today, I’d like to be reimbursed for my fare, thank you very much.”
    “I’m sorry. That’s not possible.”
    “But this is unreasonable! How am I supposed to know if I’m getting here before anyone else?” Tears stung Clare’s eyes, and she hated that they did, but they were tears of frustration for wasted money. “One visitor per day   —ridiculous! Who makes these rules? This is outrageous!”
    The middle-aged woman behind her patted her shoulder. “You poor dear   —is it your husband? Your fiancé?”
    A slammed door took the attention of all.
    A harassed-looking young man with dark hair stood glaring at no one in particular. Then he came up to the desk next to Clare.
    “I’ll have my bag now.”
    The accent caught her ear.
    “Excuse me   —there is a queue,” said the lady behind Clare with some indignation. He looked at her, then at the sergeant behind the desk.
    “Say, how does bail work here?” he asked the sergeant.
    The sergeant