ENEMY WITHIN

by Mick Bose

  Becker slowed his pace. A man was standing at the corner, looking closely at anyone who walked past him. Not just a bystander. When he turned, Becker saw the bulge of a belt holster on his back.

  Becker slipped in behind a man and his wife out strolling. He picked a shop awning and ran into it, pressing himself against the door. The shop was shut. Becker looked further down the street and swore to himself. Another man, dressed in plainclothes, doing a similar surveillance. They moved slowly, their manner casual, but the hands were never far from their weapons. Becker leaned back against the shop window and closed his eyes.

  How had it happened? He retraced his steps from the moment he stepped on the train in Grand Central to when he arrived at the hotel. He couldn’t remember anyone suspicious. Had he let his guard down? No, because he knew they were after him. He peeked out the awning again. This time, he saw a man in a khaki brown army uniform. He recognised the figure from somewhere. Becker narrowed his eyes. Why was the man familiar?

  Then he remembered. The gunner who came off the plane. Got on the armoured car and drove off. Same man. Becker observed him closely. It was clear this man was in charge. He gave some orders, then went over to the other man and did the same. Then he walked back inside the cul de sac towards the hotel. A few minutes later, Becker heard the sound of a bell ringing. The squeal of tyres and the growl of an automobile engine. A truck full of policemen, all with Springfield rifles, came screeching to a stop on the corner. The policemen got off and ran inside the cul de sac. The two plainclothes men stayed at the entrance, keeping watch.

  Becker had seen enough. There was only one place left for him to go now. It wasn’t what he wanted to do. But now he had no choice.

  *****

  Maggie heard the porch door rattling as she finished the last of the lunch time dishes and wiped her hand on the kitchen sink towel. She glanced at the clock on the wall. Four o’clock. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Her mother was out at the back, and Papa was upstairs. Maggie went to the porch, curious. When she got to the door, her breath caught in her chest at the unmistakable figure of Paul Becker.

  Maggie let out a deep sigh, fighting the conflicting emotions running through her heart. She hadn’t thought she would see him again, although Becker said he wanted to come back. She knew nothing about him. But deep inside, she wanted him to come back. Elation, excitement and wariness jostled for a place in her mind. She steadied herself and put a hand on the porch door. They stood staring at each other for a while. His forehead was wet with sweat and his white shirt clung to his back—like last time. He must have walked a long way.

  “Hi Maggie,” he said.

  He removed his glasses. His brown right eye stared at her kindly, and the greenish yellow left eye stayed fixed, unblinking.

  “Hi Paul.”

  “I came to see you.”

  Maggie crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Is that the only reason you came?”

  “No.” He smiled and she couldn’t help feeling warm inside. “I had work with a client in Cleveland again, but I also wanted to see you.”

  “And how is the client?”

  His face clouded over. “It was just work, Maggie. I came over as soon as I could. I could have told you anything, but this is the truth.”

  Maggie felt a flutter in her chest and let out a sigh. Heat rose to her cheeks.

  “I’m already glad I came,” he said. Maggie looked away, blushing more.

  “You better come in,” she said.

  Becker followed Maggie inside the kitchen. She turned around to face him. “Coffee?”

  “Please.” He sat down at the table. Maggie noticed he had the same shoulder bag as last time, and he held it tightly in his lap.

  Maggie reached for the sugar, next to the dissolvable sedative tablets for her father. The two jars didn’t look alike, but she reminded herself to find another place for them. She stirred the cup for him and readied another for herself.

  “How have you been?” she asked, bringing the coffee over to him.

  “Been better. Work is becoming more stressful. We’re very busy and I have to travel a lot.” He saw the look in her eye and added hastily, “But only from New York to Cleveland. I don’t travel anywhere else.”

  Maggie took a sip of her coffee. “I see.”

  “How is the farm going?”

  “Slow,” Maggie sighed.

  “I would like to help.”

  Maggie nodded, and Becker smiled.

  “Where would you like to stay?”

  He shrugged. “The barn is fine for me.”

  They went down the porch steps and to the barn. Inside, it was dark, the loft windows were shut. It smelled of hay, dust and the sweat of his body as they stood close to each other. Becker stood perfectly still. His presence filled Maggie`s senses and she fought the urge to reach out and touch him. She let out a breath.

  “Are you alright to sleep in the loft?”

  “Yes, sure.” A moment passed as they kept their eyes on each other. She wished he would make the first move, reach out and touch her. But neither did.

  “I better go,” said Maggie in a husky voice. “I just baked some bread. Come down to the kitchen and we can talk about some jobs in the field.”

  He didn’t avert his intense gaze from her face. “I would like that.”

  She tore her eyes away from him and went back to the homestead.

  *****

  The next morning, Maggie was cleaning grease from the hob when she stared out the window. A thought made her smile. She remembered how shy she had been when she met Becker last night.

  Miranda walked into the kitchen, and Maggie stopped smiling.

  “I see the farmhand has come back,” Miranda said. Her voice was like acid. Maggie dried her hands on the towel and turned around.

  “Why don’t you like him, mother?”

  “You hardly know him, Maggie. I have known men like him. Men who tell a good tale. Stay for a few days then never return.”

  “He did return.”

  “Yes, but for how long? And where, or who, has he been with while he was away?”

  Maggie turned back to the sink. “He works in New York. For a sheet metal company. He comes here on business.” She looked down at her hands. Miranda came and stood next to her daughter. Together, they stared out at the barn, bathed in early morning light.

  “Don’t fall in love with him, Maggie.” Miranda`s voice was quiet. Startled, Maggie looked at her mother. “He will only break your heart.”

  Maggie`s head was full of questions, and she didn’t know which one to ask first. “When will I find someone, mother? Someone…” her voice trailed off.

  “Be careful, sweetheart.”

  A voice called from the porch.

  “Maggie?”

  Becker stood at the far end of the porch, his feet on the stairs. He was wearing his white cotton shirt, brown pants and black shoes. A day`s stubble covered his cheeks.

  “Good morning,” he said, with a smile which made her blush. “I came around for some coffee before starting work.”

  “Sure,” Maggie said, opening the door for him. “Come into the kitchen.”

  Maggie noted Miranda`s eyes on them as Paul came inside. “Hello, Mrs Myers,” Paul said.

  “Morning.” Miranda`s face was inscrutable. She busied herself with some bread from the oven. Maggie got Paul a coffee and exchanged a quick look with him before turning away. As Paul finished the coffee, Miranda had the freshly baked bread on a cutting board.

  “Would you like a slice, Paul?” Maggie asked.

  “Only if there’s enough. I can get my own food later.”

  Miranda took over. “No problem,” she said, looking at Paul without smiling. She cut a slice of the bread, put butter on it, and slid the plate towards Paul.

  “Thank you,” Paul said. He ate and looked at Miranda. “This is the best bread I’ve ever tasted.”

  “You`re very kind,” said Miranda, her face still bla
nk.

  If Paul was perturbed by her attitude, he didn’t show it. He finished his breakfast and stood.

  “Where would you like me to start?” he asked Maggie.

  “In the stables, please,” Maggie said, drying a dish. “We need a clear-out, and to repair some cracks in the wall. The Percherons need feeding, too.”

  “Alright.” Paul put his hat on and left. Maggie stayed in the kitchen for a while longer, helping her mother. Karl came downstairs and had breakfast in the dining room. The sun grew stronger, and Maggie went outside.

  CHAPTER 27

  Major Tunney was pacing the town square of Cleveland, one hand fixed behind his back, a cigarette in the other. Sergeant Macarthur ran up to him, followed by the newly crowned Inspector Lindquist. Lindquist had arrived in the city late the night before. Faced with an avalanche of news from Tunney, he’d been busy running around the different hotels, following up on possible sightings.

  “Sir, we found something,” Lindquist panted. “The spectacle shop in the corner. They also happen to sell binoculars and telescopes. The owner says someone matching the suspect`s description came to buy a pair of binoculars day before yesterday. Bought his best ones too, a Remington, cost him ten dollars. He took off his glasses to try them. He stepped away, but the owner saw his eyes in the mirror. Left eye was yellow and didn’t move much. Definitely our man, sir.”

  “Good work, Inspector. That means he is here. But I guess we need to pay a visit to Willoughby as well. Sergeant,” he nodded to Macarthur. “Keep combing the place. If he bought the glasses in that shop, ask all the shopkeepers nearby. Someone must have spotted something or remembered him. When you speak to people, mention his left eye. Good work, men. Come on Lindquist, let`s go.”

  The teeth-chattering ride in the jeep did nothing for Tunney`s impending sense of doom. He could feel the window of opportunity narrowing, but he felt powerless to stop it. He looked over at Lindquist, who was grimacing worse than him. Tunney smiled despite himself. It was the man`s first ride on a country road. Not easy for someone used to New York City.

  Lindquist dusted himself vigorously when the drive came to an end. The jeep had driven through the ghost town, empty of human beings. The once busy town was now mostly evacuated. Bars in the main street had been shut down, and families had been relocated. A tank, its gun turret raised menacingly in the air, was parked in the main square. Troops with Browning and Vickers machine guns squatted behind sandbags, peering suspiciously at even the jeep as it drove past. They had to stop five hundred yard out of the campsite, at a makeshift security camp. Lee-Enfield rifles remained trained on them while they were searched methodically, despite Tunney`s uniform. Tunney sighed. There was no way even Becker could get through this, unless he was already inside. Still, the thought did nothing for his peace of mind.

  “There`s nothing around here, is there?” Lindquist said, as they were finally let into the camp. Tunney craned his neck to see the sentry towers at ten metre intervals all the way around the barbed wire barriers.

  “If there`s nothing here, Inspector, then where the hell is our man hiding?” Tunney asked.

  “True, it`s not like he can hide in a farm or something, can he?”

  Tunney stopped short. “What did you say?”

  Lindquist stared at him. “I mean, he`s not a farmer so he couldn’t get away with…” he saw the sudden light dancing in Tunney`s eyes. “You don’t think? He’s from the city.”

  “Why the hell not?” Tunney said. “Plenty of people in the city know we’re looking for him. But a farmer might not. Especially an isolated farm. What if he is hiding on a farm, maybe masquerading as a farmhand?”

  “He doesn’t have much time. You said the Germans are waiting for him to make a move.”

  “Yes, he knows he needs to move soon. But even for one day, a farm would be an ideal place to hide.” Tunney spun around. “Let’s find a phone, quick. And a map, showing all the farms between here and Cleveland.”

  Tunney, Lindquist, and the commander of the Willoughby camp, Lieutenant Colonel Swaby pored over a map on a table.

  “Mother of Mary,” Tunney groaned. “The state is full of them.” He jabbed at circles on the map. “Are these all farms?” he asked Colonel Swaby.

  “I am afraid so, Major,” Swaby said gravely. Tunney picked up a pencil and circled Cleveland.

  “He was last seen here. We know what the roads are like. Even if he has an automobile, he couldn’t have gone far. I suggest we begin by searching all farms within a five-mile radius of Cleveland. If we find nothing, we keep spreading out.”

  *****

  Maggie heard the sound of boots. A band of soldiers were marching across the cobbled town square of Cleveland city. People stopped to look. Maggie had seen enough Liberty Bond posters across town to recognise the United States Army uniform. The khaki button-down tunics with brass buttons, the garrison caps with chin straps, and the tapered trousers with leg puttees bound like bandages. The soldiers marched quickly and gathered in front of a group of men wearing similar uniforms. Orders were shouted out and the soldiers dispersed, taking positions around the town square. Some of them were led further downtown. In a few minutes, normal traffic resumed in the town square, but the soldiers remained, guns drawn and watchful. Maggie wondered what the matter was.

  She went up the stairs of the First National Bank. Bennett was in his office. Maggie counted out three hundred dollars and put the money on the table. Bennett looked up at her.

  “Thank you, Miss Myers. But where is the rest?”

  “It will come, Mr Bennett. The remaining six hundred, plus the three hundred we owe you every month will be paid promptly.”

  Bennett smoothed the few strands of hair on his head. “Are you sure about that, Miss Myers?”

  Maggie controlled the flash of anger. She kept her face impassive. “Yes, I am, Mr Bennett.” In any case, she felt like retorting, you won`t send the debt collectors now, will you? Paul`s threat had served its purpose.

  Maggie left the bank and did a few other chores, aware of the soldiers moving in and out of the shops as if they were looking for something. She even saw one lifting up the lid of a large trash can and having a look inside. The war, so long a distant prospect, had suddenly come a little closer. Once again, she couldn’t help wondering what the matter was.

  As Maggie walked towards her buggy a man in an army uniform peered closely at her. His sleeves had a number of chevrons and his cap was different to the rest of the soldiers. She imagined he was a senior officer. His dark eyes were sensitive and intense. He stared at Maggie for a while, then he seemed to make his mind up about something. He stopped two paces away from her and bowed slightly. He touched the peak of his hat.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am. My name is Major Thomas Tunney, from the Military Intelligence Department, US Army.”

  Maggie did not quite know what to say. She had never been approached by an Army officer before. She stared at the sun shining off the tip of his cap, the brass knuckles and epaulettes on the tunic.

  “Hello Officer. How can I help?”

  “Well, I wonder if you may. I haven’t seen you here before in the last two days, and I wonder if you lived around here?”

  “I live on a farm about twenty-five miles away from here.”

  She was surprised by the sudden surge of interest in Tunney`s eyes. “Which farm is that, Miss…”

  “Myers. Maggie Myers. And our farm is called Clay Tree Farm.”

  “Thank you. You see, Miss Myers, the thing is we’re looking for a fugitive. This is a very dangerous man, a German spy, in fact. He’s hiding somewhere around here. He has killed several men in New York, and he could do so here, too.”

  Maggie widened her eyes in surprise. “That’s interesting. But why would such a man come here?”

  Tunney pressed his lips together. She couldn’t help noticing the attractive line of his mouth. “I’m afraid that’s an official state secret, ma`am. But please believe me, this man is
armed and dangerous. He will kill without any hesitation.”

  Maggie was intrigued. “So where do you think he might be?”

  Tunney pointed to the optical store. “He was there two days, ago, searching for a pair of binoculars. A cab driver picked him up at the train station and took him to a hotel. It might help, if I describe the man to you, and then you might remember if you’ve seen him anywhere.”

  “Please do.”

  “He is taller than me, six feet three. And wide as well. A large man, but not round or fat. He’s very able physically. Brown hair, brown eyes—well, not his left eye. It’s a greenish-yellow colour and doesn’t move much, due to an old war injury… ma`am? Ma’am, are you alright?”

  Maggie was staring at Tunney`s face, but her eyes were vacant. Her mind was filled with a rush of thoughts she couldn’t stop. Tunney`s voice seemed to echo from across a huge distance. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.

  She realised Tunney had his hand on her arm. He was holding her forearm lightly, but firmly.

  “Ma`am, are you ok?”

  She blinked, and looked at his face again.

  “What… what did you say?”

  Tunney was leaning close, his grey eyes intense and searching. But they weren’t hostile.

  “Are you alright, ma`am?”

  Maggie thought quickly. Mama and Papa`s face flashed before her eyes. They were at the farm with Paul, who was… who was he? What was going on? Could all of this be a mistake? Was his left eye just a coincidence?

  Maggie didn’t believe in coincidences. Not one of this nature. But still, she needed to check. Maggie made her mind up. She had to go back. By herself. She invited Paul into her farm, now she had to find out who he was.

  “No Major, I don’t think I have. Seen him, I mean.” She looked away.