by Andrew Gross
She just sort of fell into me, not having anyone else to hold her, and I put my arms around her. I put my arms around my wife in a comforting way for the first time in more than two years. “I know…,” I said, stroking her while she sobbed. “You don’t have to say it, Liz. I know. Just let me get her back for you.”
“Please don’t let her down, Charlie…,” she said, tears soaking my shirt, finally giving in. “It’s our Emma.”
I left, begging her to give me just two days. Two days that I prayed would give us back our daughter. And I prayed I could deliver her.
Then I’d worry about whatever might happen to me.
I took the subway back to Brooklyn.
All the way, the rattling train echoed in my brain. I ran through our situation, thinking that there had to be something they’d screwed up on. Where were they holding her? How were they getting into the reservoirs? Was anyone else involved? The only thing I did feel sure of was that I knew where the kegs of poison were being held. If only I could somehow tamper with them.
In Brooklyn, I walked the six blocks from the F train station to Powers Street in a kind of trance. In the end, I came to the conclusion I had no choice but to comply. Whatever the ultimate risk to me. I would either be seen as a traitor to my country or turn them in and possibly see my daughter killed.
It was a choice I had no answer for.
On Powers, I went into the house I rented a room in and up the stairs. Completely spent, I put the key in my door and opened it, tossed my hat on the desk, and flicked on the light, preparing to hurl myself on the bed and sleep.
A voice said, “Good evening, Mr. Mossman.”
My heart stood still.
Someone was in my chair, his long legs crossed, in a double-breasted suit and tie, his hat on the table next to him.
I felt a throbbing in my chest.
“Sit down, Mr. Mossman.” The man nodded me toward the edge of the bed. “Take a seat, please.”
I remained standing.
Even in the dim light I realized I had seen him before. But where? And why was he here? And how?
And then, in a horrifying tumble of images, it came back to me. Like a bad dream forming shape and coming back into focus long after you’ve woken up.
It was the man who had been sitting across from me at The Purple Tulip next to the Old Heidelberg café the night I waited for Liz. With the thin mustache and the mole on his chin.
The same man I had seen on the landing that day outside Willi and Trudi’s door. Who had tipped his hat to Emma and me when we had mailed Trudi’s letters.
I realized he was one of them. One of the Bauers’ so-called customers.
A Nazi.
My chest started to pound in fear.
“Let me explain the facts of life to you, Mr. Mossman,” he said, reaching his hand into his inside pocket for what I took to be a gun.
“I didn’t say anything,” I said. I assumed he’d been watching me and had seen me go into the police station. Maybe I was a dead man for doing that, and if that’s what this was, so be it. But I couldn’t lose Emma because of it. Not now. “Please, I just went inside, but I came right back out. I never spoke with anyone. I swear.”
“I asked you to sit down,” the man said again, nodding me toward the edge of the bed.
Warily, I let myself down.
Instead of a gun, he merely came back out with a cigarette case, and offered me one. “Smoke?”
I shook my head, the panic in my chest starting to subside. If he wasn’t here to shoot me then what was he here for? Whoever the hell he was.
“Maybe a whiskey then?” he said. There was a bottle of rye on the side table next to him and he lifted it to me. “I brought along my own.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t anymore.”
“Oh, that’s right,” he said. He filled two small glasses and pushed one toward me. “But just this once I think you might.”
Oh, that’s right. How did he know that about me? I reached across and took the glass, up, my hand still quivering a bit.
What he said shocked me.
“Bottoms up, Mr. Mossman. Here’s to getting your daughter back.”
35
“What are you talking about?” I replied, my chest still tight as a drum, my eyes blinking. I didn’t know who he was, or who had sent him, whether he was from the Feds or the bad guys, but Emma’s life hung in the balance of whatever I said or whomever I talked to, and I wasn’t about to give that away.
All I knew was, I’d seen him going into the Bauers’ apartment. This guy was a Nazi.
“I’m talking about your daughter,” he said again. He reached into his jacket one more time and came out with a photograph. He handed it to me. It was of Emma and me, coming down the stairs of her brownstone. Hand in hand. On one of our walks. I wasn’t sure how long ago it had been taken. We weren’t wearing coats. So a while. I looked back at him, still not certain just what I should divulge. Her life hung on what I said. “She’s missing, right?” the man said. “I have a daughter myself. I can only imagine … I know what it must be like for you. Not to know if she’ll live or die. You do want her back, don’t you?”
“Who the hell are you?” I stared at him closely, screwing up my eyes. “And just what the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m not one of them, if that’s what you’re thinking. Let me put you at ease. You’re not the only one with questions about Willi and Trudi Bauer, or some of their associates. By that I mean certain members of the government who may have, how shall we say, confused their allegiances. Even,” he said, taking out a lighter and lighting up his smoke, “in our own State Department.”
He meant Latimer, of course. But still, I didn’t give him an answer. They’d set me up once before, these bastards. They might be testing me again. And Emma’s life was on the line. “How are you here then?” I pressed. “How did you find me?”
“You filed a report with the New York Police Department, didn’t you?”
“A report…?” I almost choked. Monahan. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. The report that I was sure was on the bottom of a forgotten pile somewhere. But how else would anyone know about that? Unless the police had been infiltrated too, I thought. Which was possible. The State Department had. I wasn’t sure whether to be elated by what he had told me or more concerned. But how could it get any worse for me? “You’re with the police?”
“Not the police. But you’re warm. My name’s Fiske. You want me to show you a card? Just a bunch of initials. You wouldn’t recognize them anyway. Latimer likely showed you one, and what did that accomplish? We’ve been looking into certain persons of interest for some time. What’s perfectly legal one day becomes outright treason and sedition the next. And I don’t blame you for being a little skeptical about things. Still, you won’t have too many chances to help yourself, Mr. Mossman, or your beautiful little girl. Events are moving fast. And this is one of those times. I know they have you squeezed. So I suggest you grab it. This chance I’m offering you.”
“Do you know where she is?” I finally gave in, hope rising in me. I went with my gut.
“No, I don’t, I’m afraid.” He took a drag on his cigarette. “But what I do know is we’re the only chance you have to help her. Or yourself, for that matter…”
I just looked back at him. I hadn’t even thought of what might happen to me in this. Only Emma. I guess that showed on my face.
“You don’t really think they’re going to let you just walk away from this, do you?”
“Walk away? Walk away from what?”
“Don’t try to play too many angles, Mr. Mossman. It’s not your game. You know what they have planned. I don’t, to put my cards on the table. Other than it’s called Prospero. But I do know it’s something the United States of America can’t let happen. And I also know they’ve squeezed you like a ripe lemon to be complicit in their plans. And that you have to make a decision now. Just who can you trust? And even mor
e so, what’s the best chance to get that lovely daughter of yours back safely? I’d take that drink now, if I were you. You’ll need it.”
I held the glass, a little unsure, and looked back at him. I was starting to feel he was right. Maybe a shot of rye wasn’t the worst thing in the world for me right now. I chugged it back and felt the splash of liquor burn its way down my throat and into my chest.
“Of course I want her back,” I said. “I want her back more than anything in the world. How do I know I can believe you? Who you say you are. One thing you’ve got right, they did set me up. There’s this woman. She’s French.” I exhaled. “I thought she and I were—”
“Miss Leperrier.” He cut me off with a knowing smile. “There’s always a woman in these things, I’m sad to say. That’s how they hook people. But trust me, she’s just the tail of a very large fish on this. She was sent here by the Abwehr to hook people like you. Her parents are being held in a Nazi prison in Drancy back in France. Whether they ever walk out of there is up to her. So you see, she’s as much of a pawn in this as you are, Mr. Mossman, if that’s any consolation.”
So it was true, what Noelle had told me. At least about that. The circumstances of my trip were not straightforward.… They had her trapped just like they had me. And we both had to work our way out of it. But I wasn’t looking for consolation now.
I said, “She introduced me to this high-level government man from D.C.” I put my glass down. “From the State Department. The Office of Immigrant Affairs…”
“Warren Latimer,” Fiske said with a nod.
“You know him too?”
“We have a good part of the network under watch. You’ve no doubt heard or seen many expressions of sympathy with the Nazi cause in the lead-up to this war. Some, simply to keep America out of it. Which makes sense to some and wasn’t even a crime until a few days ago. Others…” He flicked off an ash and balanced his cigarette on the ashtray. “Let’s just say others have blurred the line where political ideology and good citizenship meet. And that’s not exactly good policy now. We can’t have it. Not in our own government. I’m sure you of all people can understand, given all you’ve been through.”
Latimer. The head of the fish. Or maybe it even went higher up than him.
“They said if I went to the police, they’d know,” I said. “Or to the FBI. I don’t know who you’re with. They said they have contacts there. Maybe people in your own organization. You said you had a daughter, so you know. You know the choice you’d have to make. I don’t care about myself anymore. Whatever happens. But I can’t put Emma in any more danger than she’s already in. By talking to you. You understand that, right? You’ve already said you have no idea where she is. So how can you help me?”
“That is a choice to make,” Fiske said, “I admit. And you’re going to have to make it. Tonight even. But before you do, if I were you I might just think, just where have you seen me before, Mr. Mossman? Other than at The Purple Tulip. On the landing of the Bauers’ apartment, if I recall. So they don’t know about me. If they did, you can be sure I wouldn’t be here talking with you. So that should comfort you at least a little.” He kept his narrow eyes trained on me. Beady, nonconfiding. “You’re smack in the middle of this, Mr. Mossman. You can help do something good for your country. And I’ll do everything I can to get that girl of yours back safe and sound. I give you my word. Besides, to me, you’re already ahead of the game as it is.…”
“How’s that?” I asked.
Fiske took a last drag on his cigarette and stamped it out. “A minute ago you thought I was here to kill you.” His thin lips edged into a smile. “And here you are having a drink with me. That’s the best proof I can offer.”
I gave him the thinnest smile in return. “So who do they think you are, since you’ve obviously gained their trust?”
“They recruited me. To them, I’m an electrical engineer with the aircraft research lab in New Brunswick, New Jersey. We’re working on airplane engines. Jets, they call them. One day, they’ll make a big difference in this war. I pass them schematics every once in a while, but rest assured, whatever we send ’em will make a whole lot of noise but never get off the ground. There’s about to be a big bust. Their whole network is going down. And I don’t want you to get caught up in it the wrong way. Or your daughter.”
I stared at him a long time. The long, gaunt face. The suit that looked a size too large on him. On my own I was nowhere. With him I was just another pawn. But what choice did I have? “So what happens to me in this if I do help you?”
“You mean if you survive…?” Fiske gave me a knowledgeable wink. “Look, you’re a family man, Mr. Mossman. In spite of a few unfortunate items on your résumé, which we assume you’re well past today, the United States of America would be grateful for your support, and would show that gratitude by pretending you never were even a participant in any of this. And hopefully, you get your pretty little daughter back, which I’m worried for you may not happen any other way. Not to mention you will have done something good for your country at the same time. Have another…?” He lifted the bottle my way.
I put up my hand. “No. That’s as much as I’ve had in two years. And if I’ve got a decision to make I’d like to keep it that way. So you know about the sub, I presume?” I asked, starting to give in, but still keeping my cards close to my chest. I saw no better option than to trust him.
“The sub?” His eyes grew wide. Clearly, he didn’t.
“One came ashore a week ago. On eastern Long Island.”
“A German sub, I assume you’re saying?”
“That’s right. A launch from it came ashore. They unloaded some cargo. I watched it all take place.”
“Who unloaded cargo? The Bauers? Latimer?”
“Four German sailors. And two of the Bauers’ henchmen, one who works in their apartment building.”
“You say you saw this? Yourself?”
“It’s a long story.” I nodded. “But yes.” Now I had something on him.
“I’ve got nowhere to go,” he said, tipping his glass to me to go into it.
I told him how I had snuck onto the delivery truck at the brewery and had taken the ride all the way out to Long Island, where I saw them unloading what looked like kegs of beer from the launch that came ashore.
“What was it? Weapons?” Fiske looked at me, deadly serious now. “Explosives, maybe?”
I had no choice but to trust him. For Emma. I needed someone who could help get her back. “They’ve got some kind of lethal poison,” I said. “They called it sarin.”
“Sarin…?” He shrugged. “I’ve heard they have something.” I could already see his mind in gear.
“Bauer said just a pinprick can kill a man. They’ve got four kegs. Sit back, Mr. Fiske. Now it’s you who may want to take another drink.” He did. And I continued.
“They’re going to try to introduce it into the New York City water supply.”
36
The next day I went back to meet with Willi and Trudi at the brewery, which Fiske said his people already had under watch. It was Wednesday, the day it was all supposed to take place. Fiske assured me they wouldn’t make any move until I learned exactly what Bauer and his team were mapping out. What their plan was. And where Emma might be.
I wasn’t just a dupe. I was a double agent now.
“Charlie!” Willi Bauer said happily when I showed up exactly at noon. I rapped on the outer door in a series of knocks as they’d instructed me. “You remember our little brewery, don’t you?” he said with a wry smile, dressed in a sweater vest and knit tie. “I believe you were in here once before. And I’m very glad you’ve seen the wisdom of seeing this matter through. Emma will soon happily be back with your wife. And with you, I hope, if all goes well. Perhaps we will all be pleased with the outcome.”
“You’re a murderer,” I said, glaring at him and Trudi, who was dressed in a drab, gray suit with a floral hat, and who only glowered at me suspiciousl
y.
“A combatant, as we choose to see it,” Willi Bauer said. “A slightly different view. One is never too old to do one’s duty for their fatherland.”
“Call it what you like. If this goes through, you’ll have thousands of lives on your conscience. I didn’t take you for that kind of man.”
“Don’t spend your time dwelling on that, Mr. Mossman. I’d spend it thinking about your daughter and how you’re helping to get her back.”
“What do you say we just get on with it,” I looked at him and said.
The same delivery truck I’d ridden in out to Bridgehampton was parked in the loading bay, its cargo doors open. I didn’t see any kegs around, or whatever it was the sub had dropped off. They led me into an office through a side door. Curtis was there, or Kurt now; Oberleutnant Leitner, as they were now calling him. Leaning back in a chair with his foot up on the table. His shirt open at the top two buttons. “Mossman.” He nodded brusquely, the “Mr.” now gone.
I had the feeling everyone in the room expected I wouldn’t survive the night.
Spread on a table was the large blueprint site map I had seen at the Bauers’ apartment.
The Kensico Reservoir in Westchester.
“Where’s Latimer?” I looked around.
“Probably back at his desk,” Willi said with a smile. “In Washington. He has an important job to do, now that his country is at war.”
“Yeah, we’re lucky to have him on our side.” I sniffed cynically.
And Noelle, I was about to add. Where was she? Having done her duty.
I didn’t see her anywhere either.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Curtis got up and came over to me and forced my arms outward. He patted me down brusquely, pulled open my jacket, felt my chest under my shirt until he was satisfied nothing was there. “Our man is clean as a baby.” He nodded to Willi.
“Good, Mr. Mossman. We wouldn’t want this to be over before you’ve had a chance to help yourself and Emma.” He smiled through his white mustache.