Keeping Secrets

by Suzanne Morris

  “Now from other things we’ve been able to learn, plus the information you found, we’re putting together a few pieces and we think Tetzel may be working on a scheme to return Huerta to power.”

  “Why would they want to do that?”

  “If they buy and pay for the head of the government, they’ll have all the clout they need if they go after Mexico’s help for their own cause. You know, the British depend upon Tampico oil for their fuel supply, and if the Germans can get an embargo on that oil for the duration, they’ll have an obvious advantage over the Allies.

  “Also, it would be to the benefit of the Germans to keep Mexico tied up in fights with the United States, to keep America busy. If they throw Huerta into the sizzling brew down there, fireworks are going to go off, especially since the U.S. is breaking its back trying to mediate a peace so they can recognize one of the governments, then wash their hands of the whole mess.

  “From the consignment of these invoices, it’s possible we have a tie-in, but nothing is definite.”

  “If not, there’s nothing wrong with Tetzel selling weapons down there.”

  “That’s right, but if so, then that involves him in fomenting a revolution on U.S. soil and that’s breaking a law.”

  “Oh, those neutrality laws are on and off like a bee on a blossom.”

  “Even so, we’ve got to watch and see what develops. We don’t want to do anything hasty. This may be more extensive than we know. No use throwing a small fine on Tetzel now, when we could let him operate for a while, then get him by the neck.”

  “I resent that. You have no proof against him yet.”

  “That’s right. What we have to have is more written evidence. Did you ask about the mail situation?”

  “Yes, but he hasn’t given me an answer yet. He may not let me do it.”

  “Don’t press him too hard; it might alert him. But don’t miss a chance to take it on if you can. Oh yes, and one other thing. This list of accounts you got looks all right except for Stuttgart Printing. See if you can find out anything more about the owner.”

  “Why?”

  “Printing currency for use in Mexico. It’s a long shot, but he is German, and revolutionary currency has been printed up here in the past.”

  “I don’t know what I can do about it. I don’t have access to information on a day-to-day basis unless he borrows more money. I’d have to be checking his credit file all the time to see if anything showed up there, and that is unlikely anyhow. Oh, I’m getting to hate all of this.”

  “I know, but you got to stick with it. Just pay attention to calls between Stuttgart and Tetzel, visits from him, one thing and another. Have you seen anything unusual lately? Any new people on the staff, or unusual breaks in Tetzel’s routine?”

  “No. He did go to lunch at the International Club the other day with a new customer named Cabot.”

  “Hm … that club was under some fire during the Madero revolution in 1910, but I don’t think anything is going on there now. I can check it out. Who’s this Cabot?”

  I told him what little I knew.

  “All right, but watch for visits. We may have to wire Tetzel’s office eventually, but I want to wait until we have more before we risk that. You might be checking around for possibilities of setting up equipment.”

  “What sort of wire are you talking about?”

  “To get recordings of his voice … you know, like they use for a Victrola.”

  “Oh! I didn’t know you could do that kind of thing.”

  “It’s a little tricky. We have one man on our team who’s an electrical expert, and I learned what little I know from him. We put a wax cylinder recorder in one room, then wire to another room—in this case, Tetzel’s office—and install a receiver. The recorder has a headset attached, so you can listen in while you’re recording. I have a diagram you can see.”

  “The idea seems pretty dangerous. The whole floor—plus the one above and below—are occupied by bank offices.”

  “How about a storage room, or closet?”

  “I’ll look around. How big is the recorder?”

  “About a foot and a half long, and maybe eight or ten inches deep.”

  “All right.”

  “Remember, the Germans have a habit of committing important words to paper. If you could just get at the mail—”

  “I’ll try.”

  “And every now and then check again in the safe. He might keep memoranda in there. Also, make yourself useful. Offer to do odd jobs, deliver things, anything that will get you close to Tetzel or any of these other people. Shadow them whenever you can.”

  “What do you expect me to do, hide behind the bushes?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt,” he said, and laughed. “I know it’s dirty work, but remember, the end justifies the means.”

  “Maybe I’m just not right for this. You might be better off hiring somebody professional. I feel awfully inadequate.”

  “We don’t have enough money to hire professionals. Besides, they often prove to be low types who buy and sell information to both sides, so there’s a built-in risk right there.

  “Also, your position makes it possible for you to see many things we could never have access to. We might work for months and never get anyone on Tetzel’s staff, much less right inside his own office.”

  “That’s true,” I admitted and thought how relieved I’d be if all of this would end.

  Yet, like a small twig working its way downstream, the complications went further. The day before Tetzel left for his overseas trip Cabot came by again, and this time as he left I overheard Tetzel say, “All right. I’ll transfer five now. Let me know as you need more.”

  Later in the afternoon, alone in the office, I called down to credit and said, “Mr. Tetzel wants to verify an amount transferred into the Cabot Enterprises account as a loan. Was it five thousand?”

  “One moment.”

  An eternity passed, with my eyes on the door, looking for Tetzel to appear. Finally came the answer. “That’s right. Did you need that loan number?”

  “No thanks. That’s all.”

  When Mr. Tetzel returned from a meeting, we worked together until around seven o’clock because his trip was to begin the following day. His wife phoned then to remind him they had dinner guests arriving in half an hour, and he handed me a bundle of mail and said, “You needn’t bother with this tonight, but would you see that it goes first thing in the morning?”

  “Of course, sir, have a safe journey.”

  A cursory glance over the bundle seemed to prove it was innocuous, but I had an uneasy feeling future batches of mail might prove otherwise. Still I took it home like a good spy and steamed open the envelopes I couldn’t readily identify. One was addressed to an R. M. Francke in New York. A brief memo, it stated, “I understand you will be out of the city during my stop in New York within the next few days, so I’ll try and reach you upon my return back to the States a few weeks hence. I have a matter of urgency to discuss, so we need to talk before V.R. comes over. This may change the picture somewhat. Please wire M.K. at the German Foreign Office per usual.”

  I called Edwin, who picked it up for copying and commented, “Aha, this is going to be our tie-in, you can bet on it.” Then he noticed my lack of enthusiasm and said, “I’ll get in touch with you after I’ve done some checking. I think your attitude will change.”

  7

  Late in January, Mother came down for a brief visit. Just when I was feeling low over the recent—and still undigested—development with Tetzel, and equally disturbed by the fact he was to be away for the rest of the month so that my whole life seemed suspended, I could have used some of her good-sense talk. Yet she was more depressed than I had ever seen her. She’d returned from Washington where Vote for Women had suffered overwhelming defeats. The national suffrage constitutional amendment had been defeated in the House, denying its chance of going before the states for ratification. As an added disappointment, the President stood
firm against suffrage on a national scale, although he was in favor of it himself.

  “Sometimes I wish Taft were still in office,” she said bitterly. “His attitudes toward women trying to get ahead are a lot more advanced.”

  “But Wilson isn’t against you,” I told her.

  “Nor will he get behind us. Would he wield his power our way, we could be years ahead. One national amendment would save all this traveling hither, thither, and yon. Each state is like another field to be plowed, and there are still fourteen left without even so much as limited suffrage for women. You’re living in one, don’t forget.”

  I’d been giving a lot of thought over the past few weeks to human rights and the work of little provinces like Bohemia trying to keep from being gobbled up by the German empire, so I remarked, “I don’t know, Mother. Maybe there’s something good in Wilson’s stubbornness about leaving this to the states.”

  “That’s a fine thing to say. Look what happened a few years ago when he stood up for California’s anti-alien act. The Japanese have never gotten over the fact they lost their right to own property they’d worked, out there. That confounded, obdurate governor ought to have his head examined for doing them that way. It’s silly to risk the friendship of another country over that, especially in this day and age, when countries are falling into line on one side or another,” she said, then stopped and knitted her brow. “That isn’t what I meant to get off on. Are you at liberty to discuss your BNA work with me?”

  “I suppose so. You got me into it.”

  I told her briefly of the clues uncovered, and included my secret visits into the files and Mr. Tetzel’s safe. After I finished she took a sip of hot tea and said, thoughtfully, “Hm … I really wouldn’t think they would get you too involved if it gets rough. Probably bring someone down from higher up in their organization. To be honest, I didn’t think it would go as far as it has.”

  “Is that why you were so eager for me to stick my neck out in the beginning?”

  “No. I truly believe in their cause, but not at the risk of—of—”

  “My life?”

  “Of course not, silly, your job.”

  “I’m afraid it might be getting a little stickier than that.”

  “Well you can always get out if it is something you don’t feel you can handle.”

  I shook my head at her. “You never cease to amaze me. One minute you’d see me hanging by my toenails for the V. for W. or some other worthy cause. The next minute you tell me not to risk getting my feet wet in the rain.”

  “I know …” she said slowly. “It’s the mother in me, I guess, love. I’d never forgive myself if you got hurt or anything, but at the same time I expect you to be a wildcatter like me.”

  “Well you sure have a way of bringing that about.”

  She smiled and put a hand around my chin. “You’re made of strong stuff, Camille.… I guess I blame myself for pushing you out from under my wing so early. But I trust your judgment to get out of this thing if you feel it’s too dangerous. You’re dealing with a high-principled group of people. They wouldn’t hold it against you if you didn’t come through for them.”

  “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Well now, what are you doing in your spare time? Have you met any nice young men?”

  “I don’t have much spare time. I’ve been seeing the son of a grocer down the street, but he’s just a pal. Nice guy, but it’s nothing serious.”

  “Good. You’re young yet. You are to be admired for holding down a good job and seeing that the cupboard is filled and the rent’s paid … it is, isn’t it?”

  I laughed. “Oh Mom, you’re so cagey. You’d make the better spy. How about a salad? And as to the rent, well I’m making it, but just barely.”

  “You ought to be used to that. All the time you kids were growing up, we managed by the grace of God and army benefits, such as they were.”

  When Mother’s train left there was a light snow falling, and, whether because of the downcast weather or because I treasured her visits so dearly, I felt very lonely as I waved good-bye to her figure on the other side of the train window and wiped away a tear, warm against my cold cheek.

  When Tetzel returned at the end of the month, he was preoccupied more than usual and a bit edgy. I still had not heard from Edwin on the note Tetzel sent to R. M. Francke in New York, and kept trying to read something into Tetzel’s actions that would tell me whether he’d gotten wind of what was going on behind his back. In fact I wondered what would happen if something went wrong. Would Edwin simply disappear, and leave the BNA’s dirty laundry on my doorstep? Surely not.…

  First thing, Tetzel asked for the arrangement of a meeting with Emory Cabot. I rang his office but got no answer. “It’s almost noon … maybe he’s out to lunch,” I suggested.

  “He has a man working for him—what’s his name?—Nathan Hope, that’s it.”

  “Apparently he’s out too.”

  “Confound it. Try and reach Mrs. Cabot at their home, find out where he is and tell her I need to see him as soon as I can.”

  “Yessir.”

  I found Electra Cabot to be a soft-spoken and seemingly refined woman over the telephone. She asked me to tell Tetzel that her husband was out of the country on business, and she was not sure just when he would return. I asked her to hold the line while I checked for a message, but Mr. Tetzel wouldn’t leave one. I began wondering what sort of woman a man like Cabot would be married to—timid and fragile, yielding to a strong spouse? Or tough underneath, like Cabot definitely was on the surface? A few days later, quite by accident, I began finding out.

  I saw her standing at the counter at Butler’s, talking to Keith’s father. “I used to live in Colorado, and now that I’m here I never miss the opportunity to buy fresh vegetables and fruits in season. When I saw your ad about strawberries I hurried over.”

  “Well, they’re a mite expensive now, but pretty good for the first of the season. There’s a quart,” he said, eying the scales. “Can I put these on your account?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Then, allow me to open one for you. What was that name?”

  “Cabot. Mrs. Emory Cabot.”

  I had been listening because there was something slightly familiar about her voice, and now I knew why. I edged in a bit closer as she continued to chat with Mr. Butler. He was telling her he’d always wanted to go to Colorado, but in spite of his many questions about the conditions there, the only information she related was that the climate was too cold, and she liked it better here. As she phrased her brief answers, her voice became lower and lower so that I could barely hear her at all. Finally he told her of a man he’d known several years back who went to Denver and opened a small grocery store, whose business had now grown to a chain of six or seven stores in the Denver area. He told her the name and asked if she’d ever shopped in one of them.

  For some reason, the question seemed to startle her, and she faltered, “I … didn’t ever … that is, actually I lived in a little town not far from Denver.” Then, as though in a hurry she wished him good day and gathered her parcels. I kept my eyes on her as she walked out the door. She was well dressed and very striking. Looked as if Cabot had good taste in women.…

  On the way home I kept thinking of the curious fact she’d spoken as though she came to this city alone … so maybe she had not been married to Cabot very long. And she was obviously nervous when asked about Colorado.

  For the first time then I realized I’d failed to be on my toes since Mr. Tetzel returned, too busy worrying over his own discovery of me to catch a possible tie-in. Why had Cabot been the first person he wanted to see? I redoubled my steps and went to the nearest telephone to call Edwin. I was fairly bursting with curiosity over the mysterious note to R. M. Francke anyway. Maybe Edwin would have some information for me.

  There was no answer. I checked the time. Six-thirty. He ought to have been there. I went to my apartment, determined to check wi
th him again in an hour or so, but found a note from him inside my door. “Meet me at lunch tomorrow, twelve-thirty in front of Roach and Barnes Kodaks on West Commerce.”

  After that, I didn’t sleep all night.

  Next day Edwin told me the link was definite. “Tetzel has been responsible for a major part of the weapons being shipped south of the border, and will play a definite role in the planning for Huerta’s return. This month the Germans are to send a man by the name of von Rintelen over to mastermind the plot. He’ll be meeting with Huerta in New York, and instructing Tetzel as to weapons.”

  “So V.R. in Tetzel’s letter stood for von Rintelen.… I wonder if he got to talk to Francke in New York upon his return, about the ‘change in the picture.’”

  “Our people weren’t able to find out about it, if he did.”

  “Well, with this link, all you have to do is catch the two men on the spot, right? Then—” I began nervously, but Edwin interrupted.

  “We think Tetzel is involved still further, and we don’t want to pick him up yet.”

  “What more could he be doing?”

  “You mentioned his trip to Europe … while there, he arranged for the transfer of copper through Norway into Germany. It is the only way to get raw materials past the British blockade. Denmark and Holland are co-operating with the Allies, but Norway maintains an attitude they’ll ship to whomever, wherever they choose; see, they also produce a sizable amount of copper themselves, so they want to leave all the doors open.”

  “I still don’t see any wrong in that. The British blockade is starving them to death. Neither do I blame the Germans for declaring a war zone all the way around the British Isles, if you want to know the truth.” I hadn’t intended to be so blunt, but I was getting edgy myself.

  “Good points, but the important item here is that the further we dig, the further down we find Tetzel, and we want to see how far the cable goes before it runs out. Now, what did you learn since we last met?”