Third Chapter of Wall Street Swastika:
Dora and Edward retired to bed that night on the ship. They hid the threat from Hitler after sharing it with Winston. Winston wanted to save it to give it to the Prof, his friend from Oxford, to copy so he could keep better track of what Hitler was attempting.
Dora and Edward stayed in their cabin the next day and invited Winston over. They did not want to be seen in public on the ship. They could not be sure that Hitler had not stationed a spy aboard the ship to watch them and report back to the Fuhrer what they were up to.
Dora thought it was particularly eerie that Hitler has attached a note to a skiff at sea and let it crash against the ocean liner. The thing had looked like an abandoned boat and had haunted her dreams last night. It had even seemed ghostly.
The next day they woke up docked in Halifax, Nova Scotia. Their ship was tied up practically underneath an old lighthouse in the harbor. Dora asked the cabin steward. He said it was called the Georges Island Lighthouse. It had been here since 1876. She wondered why or if it was her imagination that she saw somebody at the top of the lighthouse staring down at her looking out her porthole window.
Winston suggested having breakfast on the deck in the deck chairs. Leave it up to the MP to like all the niceties that the cruise ship could provide. Dora did not want to encourage him. But she hardly had the courage to even tell Edward —- let alone Winston —- what she thought she had seen in the tower. She kept her eyes uneasily fixed on it as she sat down.
Dora could hardly study the menu. When the waiter showed up she said she would have what Edward had.
“Dora,” Edward chided her reproachfully, “your mind seems to be somewhere else!”
Winston had asked her a question. She had not heard what he had said.
“Mrs. Byrne, when you get to London, where are you going to stay?” Winston repeated himself.
“Oh, I just thought I’d stay at Ware Hall, I —”
She caught the look in Edward’s eye. He was shaking his head “no”.
She realized that might attract attention. They did not want to tip Michael off where she was. She had given him the lame excuse that she had to sail to England and then Paris because her old shipmate from the Lusitania, her best friend, was getting married.
“Oh, I guess I will rent a flat or stay in a hotel. Who knows?” she shrugged. That was not important now.
“Clementine would be glad to host you at Chartwell in the countryside. We don’t have any nosey guests right now, and that would keep you well away from the city and Hitler’s spies. Your husband also would be damn confused where to find you.”
Just then she happened to glance at the lighthouse across the bay. A gunman was leaning out of the tower aiming for them. Dora screamed as he began to fire.
Edward responded immediately without even seeing what was going on. He shoved her onto the floor and rolled on top of her. He knocked Winston under the table and overturned it. The tea things and trays went smashing to the deck as he used it as a shield. Other passengers farther down the deck screamed as the deck hand came rushing their direction.
A lady screamed and screamed and screamed.
“Edward, look!” Dora pointed up at the lighthouse tower. “It’s Rita Jolivet. They are going to push her out the window.”