It was carried in by a flustered-looking secretary who knew of their close relationship to John Alexander. Had it not been for Philip’s position at the embassy, Devon would never have known that John was hurt. The explosion in Geneva had made headlines around the world, but the names of those involved had been carefully concealed. According to the newspapers, the bomb had been planted at the site of a secret meeting of Allied “diplomats.” None of the so-called diplomats, however, were known to be part of their countries’ respective foreign services, hence the secrecy. A British operative had been killed, along with two members of the Free French. John was fortunate to escape with injuries, but they were severe, according to the cable the secretary handed Philip. Devon, stunned, slumped into Philip’s cordovan leather couch, Grace’s comforting arms around her. Philip stood helplessly in front of his desk, not sure what to say. Devon’s heart pounded with fear at the thought of John dying.
