Crossword

by Alan Bricklin

  "You'll see the doctors in Switzerland, you said yourself how good they were."

  "There's nothing they can do. I've already seen them and the cancer is inoperable. That's why I volunteered for this mission. I'm so sorry I had to tell you this, Maria, but I am sick and I'm dying."

  "I don't believe it. You don't look sick."

  Larry released one of his hands from hers, and still holding tight with the other, guided her along the path, continuing their walk. "Well, you're right that I probably don't look like I'm dying. I don't feel sick either and that's strange because before I left on this mission I was coughing and out of breath most of the time. The doctor gave me medicine that improved all of that, but I lost it shortly after I entered Germany, and I figured I might get too sick to complete the operation. As a matter of fact, I've felt pretty good other than getting banged around a lot. Very strange. I don't understand it, but I saw the x-ray and there was no mistaking it."

  "Maybe he mixed you up with someone else, showed you the wrong x-ray, and there's another patient feeling sick and dying and wondering why they have a normal x-ray."

  "They don't make those kind of mistakes, and besides, I need to get this plutonium out of Germany, it's crucial, so, as I said, either way my fate is sealed." Hand in hand they strolled on, the touch of the other providing comfort, but each lost in their private thoughts.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Julian held the door for Vickie as they entered the Schweizerhof hotel and walked arm in arm to a table in the lobby bar. After helping her off with her coat, pulling out the chair and making sure she was seated, he walked across the lobby to the cloakroom, waving off the bellboy who offered to take the coats. He wanted the opportunity to survey as much of the premises as he could before his meeting with general Waldman a few hours hence. The general had sent word that a meeting was needed, preferably close to the Italian border, but stating that he would accommodate the exigencies of Julian, an offer that indicated to Julian that one, Waldman was seriously worried about something, and two, it was potentially a significant threat to him, or else he would not have been willing to so openly play the role of the supplicant. It also told him that it was unlikely that Gerhard had, at least for the moment, a viable plan to acquire and sell the plutonium on his own. Kent's disappearance had placed Julian under suspicion and he was disinclined, given the circumstance, to leave Bern, especially since there was no plausible reason for him to do so at the present time. A meeting in Bern presented its own problems, but it was the better of two bad choices, and so he had reluctantly agreed, determined that he would do all he could to make it secure and to provide himself with a safety net. Enter Victoria.

  After the initial conquest, Julian took Vickie on a few dates, dinner or his place for drinks, followed by raucous sex, each time a seemingly new encounter depending on their moods, at times one the aggressor and the other docile, at other times both of them battling for dominance and on still other occasions the two of them seemingly lost in their own worlds of hedonistic pleasure with little thought of their partner except as a mechanism of release. For Victoria, it was a momentary escape from a future treading the quicksand of the British lower class, a mire from which few escaped, for usually within moments of meeting someone an Englishman had one pegged as to their station in society and there simply was no evasion. For Julian, it was a time free of stress and restraints, a circumstance that at best led to body drenching exhilaration, and at worst was a wasted evening without significant consequences. Although their roles varied during their carnal encounters, never was there a time of mutual tenderness.

  While he waited for the attendant to fetch the small metal claim disk, Templeton turned to look back at Vickie, smiling at her as she discretely waived, and using the moment to look at the faces of as many of the guests as possible and to scrutinize their actions and habitus as best he could in the short time, assessing the likelihood of them being an OSS plant. On the way back to the table he stopped at the desk to ask for Mrs. Bancroft's room and was glad to hear that she was not currently a guest at the hotel. Returning to the table he ordered drinks and made small talk while he continued his surveillance. After finishing his scotch and soda he began to relax, not because of the alcohol now making its way through his system, but because none of the guests or passersby exhibited the characteristics of someone on stakeout, nor had he been followed by any of them. On the walk over from the office he had taken Vickie into Globus, the major department store in Switzerland and a fixture since shortly after the beginning of the century, under the pretext of having to buy something for a special niece, and he spent at least twenty minutes before purchasing a silk scarf, a rarity due to war time shortages. The store had multiple entrances, so anyone following him would have to enter and keep him in sight. If you thought it possible that you were being tailed, tradecraft suggested that one go to two separate public places, paying careful attention to the people you saw, and if any of them were at both places, it was likely that you were being followed. That not being the case, he settled in to another round of drinks, intermittently popping a peanut into his mouth, but still remaining vigilant and scanning the lobby every few minutes.

  It was a clear night when they left the hotel, the clouds of the day having dissipated and the stars appearing particularly bright in the sky. "I'll walk you back to your place before I take care of the meeting that I have. It shouldn't take too long, then we can go get something to eat."

  "We don't need to go out; I'll have time to prepare a dinner for us so we can stay in for the evening. It's nicer than always going to a restaurant." Her apartment was not far, in an inexpensive area only a few blocks from the train station, and in a few minutes they were standing in front of her door. They said little during the short walk. She knew better than to ask him anything about the work he did, and, in reality, there was not much, other than sex, which they had in common. Julian and Victoria were both aware of that, at least on some level, but their outbursts of passion fulfilled a need for each of them, one that neither was willing to forgo. Vickie, key in hand, paused before ascending the steps, turned to Julian and took hold of his lapel, pulling his face to hers. He wrapped his hand around the side of her neck and pressed his lips against her ready mouth, intimation of things to come. By the time the door clicked shut, his thoughts were already on his meeting with Gerhard.

  Once more, Templeton hastened up the steps of the Schweizerhof into the capacious lobby, glancing around as he paused to unbutton his coat before walking to the elevators. Standing outside the open doors of the elevator was a bellboy, seemingly at attention, waiting for the next guest to whom he could be of service. As Julian approached, another bellboy walked up, spoke a few words to his fellow employee, who left and walked back across the lobby. Responding to the quizzical look of his passenger, the bellboy said, "Stephan is off work now; I'll take you up. What floor, sir?"

  Templeton looked at the lad in front of him. He didn't look familiar, but the lower echelons of the hotel staff were part of the cadre of the invisible, the menials that were so often taken for granted. His uniform seemed a bit small, socks showing between his pant cuffs and his black shoes which, although not dirty, were not polished to the sheen he had noticed on others. Funny, I don't remember their faces, but I notice their polished shoes. "Take me to three, please."

  "Yes, sir." The ornate doors swung shut, followed by the metal grate, and the elevator began its ascent.

  "Have you worked here long?"

  "Oh, no, sir. Today's only my second day. I hope I haven't done anything wrong."

  "No. Everything's fine." The lift jerked to a stop and the boy opened the doors, taking a half step out and extending his arm as if welcoming Templeton to the third floor. Looking back after he exited, Julian saw the bellboy kneeling down to tie a shoelace, a lace which Julian knew had not been untied on the trip up. He did an about face and walked back to where the boy was now standing up. "Did I drop something?"

  "I was j
ust tying my shoelace. Uh, no, you didn't drop anything." His discomfiture showed and seemed to increase palpably as Templeton stood there in silence, looking at him until he mumbled words that were a cross between an apology and an indication that he was glad to be of service.

  After the doors closed, Julian hurried to the stairs and walked the two flights to the fifth floor where Gerhard waited for him. Emerging from the stairs, he saw an elderly couple walking his way he and he ambled down the corridor, nodding to them as he passed, then turned the corner. Several doors from the room where Waldman had said he'd be waiting there was a maid in front of an open door, bending over her cart to remove clean linen. She looked up and smiled as he approached, blond hair falling on a peaches and cream face, her décolletage familiar to Julian who did remember seeing her here before and returned her smile with relief. He knocked and coughed, and was quickly admitted to Waldman's room.

  The general immediately launched into his concerns and, as Julian suspected, he was worried that in spite of all he had done to assure that he was the one who ended up with the prize pig to sell, it may somehow have eluded him, and he would be left with nothing to look forward to except war crime trials. "Eva and your agent left Maria's apartment several days ago but she has not contacted me, nor do any of my underlings in Munich know her whereabouts. Would you by chance have information as to where they are?"

  "Are you worried, general?" Julian couldn't resist the opportunity to needle the worried SS officer, although he himself, also had plenty of reason to be concerned. However, at least he now knew that Waldman had not absconded with the plutonium.

  "No need to be condescending; we both have a lot at stake here, and we each have cards not yet played."

  Templeton assumed he referred to his knowledge of the plot, Kent's disappearance and the possibility that he might trade this information to the OSS, a prospect that would put Templeton behind bars for the rest of his life, and which, for the general, held little downside if he was bereft of the plutonium. Always the pragmatist, he continued in a different vein. "You're right, Gerhard. Like it or not we're partners and we really need to cooperate, especially at this point in the game. I think we've shown that we each have the ability to screw the other, but now we must accept that the prize has to be split or else it will be lost to both of us."

  "Agreed. Do you have any information?"

  "No, and I've had to restrict my activities because Kent's absence throws suspicion on me."

  "I'm sorry about that, but ... "

  Templeton interrupted, "It's done and can't be undone. I'll just have to deal with it. I have contacts that may be able to shed some light on what's happened, but you'll have to get word to them."

  "Me? I think it highly unlikely that any partisan or operative would want to meet with a German SS general."

  "You're right about that, but we can do it as a dead letter drop. With the Third Reich collapsing all over Europe, there are backroom deals being brokered almost daily and everyone's come to expect strange bedfellows. I'll write out a message as well as instructions you can give to one of your men. What about your resources?"

  "The few men left in and around Munich who are still loyal to me have already been contacted and are making inquiries along the route from Munich to the Bodensee, lake Constance you call it. I assume his exit path must be in that region."

  "Close. He entered Germany by crossing the lake, and the original plan had him exiting the same way, but the final instructions I gave him before he left changed that. He will be met at Hohenems. You know the place?"

  "Western Austria, at the Swiss border, actually not far from where you and I met before. A rather independent part of Austria where the people always seem to march to their own tune."

  "A good place to recruit help for the allied cause."

  "Yes, but his journey will be more difficult. He will have to head south before the eastern shore of the lake. Perhaps he has already been captured."

  "Well, that's what you and I have to determine. I'll give you two letters to leave, one asking for information, and the other alerting my contacts that he may be delayed. Once I have the plutonium, assuming our boy makes it, we'll meet for the final time near Altstatten —— you remember the place. Wear civilian clothes and be ready to travel. No luggage, just a toothbrush and a change of underwear. I'll get you on a plane to Lisbon, and from there to South America, where I'm sure you must have some friends."

  "How will I know if he makes it to Hohenems?"

  "The letters I'm giving you will provide instructions for the men who will meet him. You'll have to get someone to check the drop every day."

  "And how do you propose to get the plutonium from the agent?"

  "The people meeting him will provide shielding and carry it for him since the package will now be rather heavy."

  "And when he returns to your headquarters, how will the absence of the object of the mission be explained?"

  "The agent won't make it. Another operative lost behind enemy lines. The original recovery team will be waiting for his signal from the German shore of the lake, at the point where headquarters believes he will exit. Eventually they'll give up."

  "And if he is already lost, dead or captured?"

  "Then, my friend, we both have to cover our tracks as best we can. The men who are waiting for him at Hohenems may be able to help you, but I warn you, they are mercenary and you will have to pay dearly for anything they do. And general, I wouldn't put a lot of trust in them if I were you."

  Their business concluded, Templeton stood and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the knob and turned back to Waldman. "I hope we will see each other one more time, at Altstatten." Then he was gone, walking down to the third floor and ringing for the elevator.

  * *

  The next morning Allen Dulles was at his usual morning briefing with his aide who kept him apprised of incoming communications, signal intelligence as well as notes, inquiries and reports from OSS Caserta, and reports from his own staff. Dulles closed a folder and handed it back to Bill. "Tell them that we have no information on the woman they mentioned, but I will make a few inquiries. That should be it for today except for the issues surrounding our two generals, or should I say 'one general'? Anything come in today?"

  Bill referred to several pieces of paper he withdrew from a sealed manila folder. "Preliminary word on Templeton's finances is that there's nothing irregular, no unusual deposits in any of his accounts and no significant debt. They say a more complete exam will be done; details to follow. Mallory, on the other hand, is up to his ears in debt, and it seems to be common knowledge that his wife's unhappy having to live with her parents because Kent can't afford the digs she wants."

  "At least we have a motive for Kent, but that's far from proof." He paused before continuing. "You know, I've been thinking about the journeys of Waldman and Schroeder. The only time they were in the same locale and were likely to have contact, as a matter of fact, the only time when it was actually necessary for them to have contact in order to carry out their orders, was when they were both in Norway shipping the plutonium to Germany. If this started out as some kind of joint endeavor by our two Nazi generals, the gestation probably took place there. Norway is run from London. Get word to them, tell them we need any information they have about the two of them and the plutonium, and tell them it's urgent, that we have an active operation in jeopardy."

  Bill scooped up his papers and quickly retreated to his desk, the gravity of the situation compelling him to work ever faster. Less than a minute later, before Dulles had even decided on his next task, there was a hasty knock and Bill reappeared. "Mr. Mettler is here. He says it's important."

  "Send him in." Hans hurried into the room, his flushed complexion suggesting he might have run all the way over. "Hans, sit down. You look like you need a brandy."

  "Thank you, no, it's too early, even for me, and you will want to hear this immediately." He practically flung the envelope in his hand on A
llen's desk. Dulles opened it and removed the two pictures he gave him on his last visit, one of General Waldman and one of Templeton. "We have seen them at the Schweizerhof, just like you thought." He sat back, his breathing somewhat rapid, his mouth alternating between a sly smile and an open portal for the air he had to inhale. Hans had found his first foray into espionage rather exhilarating. Dulles could not hide his own smile, hoping his friend thought he was pleased and not laughing at him, and let Hans have a moment to catch his breath.

  "Very good my friend. Tell me exactly what happened." Dulles knew this would take longer than if he simply directed pointed questions at his newest 'recruit', but he could not bring himself to interrogate his old friend, a situation which Hans would probably find demeaning, not realizing that debriefing was part of the great game. Besides, Allen could see that he was chomping at the bit to tell his story.

  "My young clerk, Lucas, was stationed at the hotel, near the elevators as you suggested, and yesterday afternoon he saw the German general at the registration desk, then took him in the lift to the fifth floor. Then, in the early part of the evening he saw the other gentleman come in with a lady and sit in the bar for a while, having drinks. After about an hour, they both left." Dulles felt compelled to interrupt.

  "Did either the man or the woman go anywhere before they left the hotel? Were they always in sight of Lucas?"

  "They sat there the entire time."

  "Neither of them went to the toilette or into one of the other rooms off the lobby?"

  "The man carried their coats to the cloak room, then walked back to the table."

  "Did he talk to the girl at the counter?"