Keeping Secrets

by Suzanne Morris

  “I don’t follow you.”

  “He may be looked to for mediation, since he’ll be more in a position to speak for the country than he has been for the past few months.”

  “And that could mean an end to it?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Then what would happen to Tetzel?”

  “There’s enough evidence now for the U.S. authorities to pick him up for violating neutrality laws, and maybe enough for a case of conspiracy if we could find his signature on checks.”

  “So his days are numbered,” I said, still puzzling over the reasons for his involvement.

  “As well as those of others mixed up in the same type of activity.”

  Edwin’s final remark made me aware for the first time of the real scope of espionage and counterespionage operations we were involved in. Tetzel was busy working toward his own ends, totally ignorant of how closely he was being watched, how extensively he was being investigated. How many others, like him, were over here conducting conspiracies or channeling funds down into Mexico and into other countries such as Ireland and Wales, for causing unrest and dissension in order to keep people busy? How many Cabots, profiteering off the misfortune of others; how many Barristas, knowingly or not, using them as stepladders toward their own goals?

  I recall feeling very small then, walking back from my meeting with Edwin down a sidewalk slickened by rain and reflecting off the streetlights above. Lucky I didn’t decide to settle in Washington or New York, where really important things took place.

  What could happen in a faraway city like San Antonio, where all of us were simply very small cogs in an enormous wheel, gathering momentum?

  I returned from work one evening in late September to find Edwin had slipped a message under my door. He’d been by at three in the afternoon, and requested that I call him at the usual number after six. When I reached him, he had some news for me about Electra Cabot.

  “I was on my way from a meeting with Hubert up on the north side today, and who should I see coming out of an antique store but her? She was carrying a box under one arm, so I figured she was out shopping—”

  “But of course you followed her, just to be sure,” I said through a smile.

  “The lady was having a vase appraised. I got near enough on her last stop to overhear her dickering with the dealer over the price. Finally she accepted twelve hundred. She asked for cash and got it.

  “I followed her taxi from there all the way to the post office, where she got out with an envelope and headed up the stairs.”

  “So she’s sending money to someone.”

  “And probably without Cabot’s knowledge,” he added.

  “But you don’t know that for sure, just because of today. He is in pretty bad straits financially. Maybe they’ve decided to sell off some of their things,” I suggested.

  “While he’s busy ordering a new Overland? Come on!”

  Edwin was always eager to believe the worst about Electra, I thought with dismay. Yet, within a short time I was to find myself more suspicious of her than I’d been before.

  While Tetzel was working with his door ajar one morning, the telephone rang. Long in the habit of listening hard, I took my hands from the noisy typewriter keys and stared at the book with my steno notes, as though trying to jolt my memory on a word I couldn’t decipher. I heard Tetzel say, “Yes, yes … she’s having the pearls restrung. It was kind of you—” and I realized he was talking with Electra. Presently he closed his door and at once I had to decide whether to dash to the storeroom or to the filing cabinet just outside his office. Afraid the call might be brief, I had my hand on a drawer handle within seconds. For several moments he was silent, then he said, “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow around twelve. No, I’m not expecting Cabot today … don’t worry, I won’t mention it if he comes by.”

  I could hardly wait until six o’clock that evening to phone Edwin. There were obvious built-in problems with my eavesdropping on the meeting they scheduled, and while Edwin recognized Electra, I wasn’t sure he’d know Tetzel. It would have been so much easier if I’d overheard the name of the place for their rendezvous.

  Excitedly, I blurted out all the garbled thoughts in my mind, and Edwin answered, “Which door does Tetzel usually go out at lunchtime?”

  “The main lobby, as far as I know, but how will you—”

  “Since you haven’t gotten around to using your camera, I’ve done some shadowing of my own. I know Tetzel when I see him.”

  I ignored the rebuff. “If by some chance she comes up here, I’ll be standing by in the storeroom. But since they’re trying to keep this from Cabot, she probably won’t be meeting Tetzel anywhere in this area.”

  “If he goes out the back door, though, we’re whipped.”

  “No, he parks his car nearer the front of the bank. Good luck. I’ll call you again at six, tomorrow evening.”

  I lay awake most of the night, fretting over the fact I could not be the one to listen in on that meeting. Whereas I would be looking for inflections in Electra’s voice, phraseology, anything which might indicate justification for dealing behind Cabot’s back, Edwin would be listening only for the meat of the conversation. He looked upon both Cabots with the same degree of detachment that I should have exercised, and oftentimes I felt we almost competed as to who would prove right in the end, especially when it came to Electra.

  All the following day my stomach churned. I watched Tetzel calmly take his homburg and walk out at noontime, return two and a half hours later, somewhat preoccupied, and work the balance of the day with his office door closed. When I phoned Edwin at six, my fingers trembled on the receiver. Just as I expected, he was terse in his report, yet he wasn’t entirely to blame. “I’ll say one thing for that Cabot woman, she sure knows how to conduct a private meeting. She led Tetzel to a table for two way over in the corner, and even though I sat nearby, I could hardly hear. She spoke almost in a whisper, and her back was to me.

  “The only real advantage I had was seeing Tetzel’s face, and it did turn pale a few times.”

  “I guess you didn’t find out much, huh?”

  “Enough, I think. She was asking for money, and apparently a good deal of it. He was not buying what she was telling him, that was clear. I heard him tell her something was ‘risky business.’ But that didn’t stop her. They talked for a while after that, then left. I think he put her off.”

  I stood there shaking my head for such a long time that Edwin finally asked, “You still there?”

  “Yes … I just can’t figure it. I would have never thought she’d betray—”

  “Camille, you’ve got to face the facts. You don’t really know this woman, and just look how little we’ve been able to find out about her. She did say something in the beginning about Cabot having looked her up, and I’ve got a hunch he may have had her traced. I’m going to try and get into his office and look around.”

  Several days later I overheard a telephone conversation in Tetzel’s office. His habit of vagueness was present in every transaction he made, and in the case of telephone calls even more so, probably because of the danger of alerting Minerva, the switchboard operator. Only when I heard him mention the word “Colorado” did I realize the conversation was important, though I was not able to figure out who was on the other end of the line, and whether the call was long distance or local. He might have been checking on a prospective bank customer from the way he talked.

  “You found nothing? Yes … well, that only proves she isn’t with us.” (A pause.) “No, but I needn’t be in any hurry about that. These days, one is less and less certain who is to be trusted, eh?”

  19

  I had been in and out of Tetzel’s secret safe compartment so many times, largely to no avail, that I’d begun doing so more or less perfunctorily, while keeping a sharp ear for possible surprise intruders. Usually I moved the small gilt-framed portrait out from the front, reaching way to the back in the dark, and felt all around; then,
finding nothing, replaced the portrait and closed the box. This time, however, my hand quickened upon the discovery of a sheaf of papers. They were sales agreements for four small newspapers in the Central Texas area that Tetzel had visited several times, though not lately. Also with the papers were check vouchers amounting to just above thirty thousand dollars. Apparently it had taken long months of negotiation before the deals were finalized, and a few extra thousand dollars also. It confounded me then as it had many times before that Tetzel seemed to draw from an inextinguishable source of funds and, with few exceptions such as this one, distributed them through some still undiscovered channel.

  The papers in my hand now were just the sort of evidence Edwin would be elated to hear about, I knew, but for me it faded in comparison to what happened the afternoon of the following day. Cabot was sporting around in a taxi these days, awaiting arrival of his new Overland, and just as I rounded the corner after a shopping errand on Commerce I saw him board a waiting cab and head down the block, then turn up a small side street north. I made a quick decision and hopped another waiting cab to follow him. When I got in and on his trail, I checked my handbag and told the driver he’d have to stop when I’d used up four bits, because that was all the money I had. Cabot was headed for Aegina Barrista’s school, it became evident, and when he reached it he dismissed his taxi. A block behind, I stopped my driver, who looked back puzzledly and said, “But that’s only twenty cents, miss.”

  “It’s all right.” I left the cab, ducked out of sight, and watched. In a few minutes a tall young woman with dark hair parted down the center and pulled into a knot at the nape of her neck came from the school and crossed the street to a small drugstore and ice-cream parlor. Cabot was a few steps behind her. Once he was in I walked to the store window. They were being seated in a little booth near the back. The booth this side of them was occupied, so I had to wait a few minutes until it cleared. Aegina would see me walking through, but she didn’t know me and Cabot’s back would be facing me. If I got caught I could just say I was in the neighborhood and had a passion for ice cream. I didn’t have time to consider whether my excuse would work. I wiped the perspiration from above my lips and walked in. I would browse close by, to be sure no one new took the booth I needed before I could reach it. From where I stood I could see Aegina face on. She was every bit as beautiful as I’d heard—her features a combination of Greek and Mexican. Her eyes were like dark topaz stones, encircled with thick lashes. Her skin seemed flawless over her high cheekbones. Her lips were wide and full. Immediately I thought, she might be Cabot’s sister, as much as they favor.

  Ten prolonged minutes passed before I slid into the booth behind Cabot to listen. I had thought to buy a newspaper outside the door, to hide my face should they look my way upon leaving. I ordered a double fudge sundae and listened.

  “… and you can have it by the time I come back in February?” he said.

  “Don’t worry. Artemio works quickly.”

  “I’ve noticed that.”

  “You are always teasing, Cabot,” she replied, laughing. “Besides, my father approves of Artemio. He is good to me, and works hard for the cause. We’ll marry, probably, as soon as the revolution is over. Father will have the big fiesta.”

  “That will make my wife very happy.”

  “She still suspects there is something between us?”

  “Yep, though considering how much money I spent tracking her down and getting her here, she ought to realize how much I think of her. I never figured I’d pay five thousand bucks to get a wife.”

  I pressed my ear to the booth.

  “You were thinking of her, even while we were together, weren’t you?”

  “Sometimes, but you did a commendable job of holding my attention.”

  She laughed again. “But you always really loved that woman, didn’t you? With me it was for fun—a little interludio before you found her?”

  “No … I never thought I’d see her again until I started looking. But she’s always been my woman, and always will be. She’s gone through a lot of agony since I brought her down here. I’m going to make up for it once this is over.”

  “What you are doing for my father is worth the waiting she must do. He would not have come this far without you, and would go no further. I’m grateful. He will be, too, even more than he is now, once he has gained the presidency and sees his dreams turning into realities. If my mother were still alive, he wouldn’t have needed your fire, or mine. When she died he lost some of his ambition. He worries more about me because he has no one else. He worries too much about everything to work effectively in his own behalf. He will be good for Mexico, but he won’t be able to envision the future as clearly as you until he has the worst behind him.

  “He knows all this. He says you bring him luck.”

  “I hope he’s right. Let’s get out of here. I’ll check with you again before I leave the country.”

  “Artemio will carry another batch when he goes down next month. The circulars are being read in all parts of the country, now, Father writes. He complains of his hands being tied. Even right there in Mexico, there is so little he can do.

  “We probably won’t have to move the press again, do you think?”

  “I hope not. Hell, with the government buying up property and renting all the warehouses in town, we might have to. That was a close call last time.” The wooden booth groaned as his big frame rose from it.

  “Good-bye, Cabot. Buena suerte.”

  I covered my face as he walked past, and soon after, she went by and out the door behind him. My untouched sundae had become a marbly puddle.

  When I reached Edwin that evening I told him it was a cinch Aegina was in charge of currency. What else, aside from circulars, I didn’t know. Edwin wanted to know where their operations were.

  “They didn’t say. Apparently they’ve been operating out of the basement in a warehouse or something, and recently moved, maybe more than once. There’s no telling where they are now.”

  “We’ll start checking. What else?”

  “You were right about Cabot tracing Electra to Colorado,” I told him and explained what I’d overheard.

  “I knew it,” Edwin said excitedly.

  “And one thing more … it seems that Cabot was once linked with Aegina Barrista … romantically, I mean … and Electra has been pretty jealous over it.”

  “Hm … that’s interesting. Maybe it was jealousy that led her to Tetzel.”

  I had to admit that had crossed my mind, but I’d already dismissed it.

  “By the way, we’re short on recording machines so I’m going to have to find a way to pull that one out of the Cabot house, then get it up to Maryland. It hasn’t been all that much help to us anyway.”

  “Oh Lord, how will you—” I began, thinking of the trouble we had getting the thing installed.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll figure a way, probably do it sometime next week. Hey, have you seen the papers today?”

  “No.”

  “German subs sunk two British steamers fifty miles outside of Boston harbor.”

  “My goodness! Have we declared war?”

  “No. The subs stayed within the bounds of international waters. We won’t even make any claims for indemnity unless we prove they violated international warfare laws.”

  “They just got the Lusitania incident settled, and now this. Seems to me they’re getting too close for comfort.”

  At moments like these I found the whole situation confusing. It seemed the Germans on one hand were trying to keep us out of the war, and with the other suck us in, daring us further and further until we had to fight. Yet before the end of the year Edwin’s prediction came true: Wilson, re-elected by a narrow margin over Charles Evans Hughes, offered his services as mediator between the Centrals and the Allies, and it looked as though at last the world was on the road to peace. Though the terms made on either side were a little preposterous at best and the Germans—betting high now—were
obdurate, they were at least talking so surely that had to be a step in the right direction.

  Yet, still our government talked up national defense, preparedness, and planned civil aeronautical schools, more Navy ships and guns, an increased Army, and a possible conscription. Keith had set his mind on joining the military reserve and going straight to aviation school as soon as he finished college in the spring. He read everything he could get his hands on about preliminary and advanced qualification tests so that he could be among the first men picked for aero squadrons.

  The contrast between his attitude toward military service and that of Nathan was the difference between springtime and bleak winter. I didn’t see a lot of Nathan but it was clear from the talks we had he was unsettled by the thought of conscription. “Men like me, with no wife and family, would be first to go,” he said more than once.

  “Isn’t it easier for you to go than it would be for a man with people to support?”

  “Cabot wouldn’t have to go.”

  “Maybe not … maybe so. But if he stayed out, there would probably still be a good job awaiting you when you got out, as much as he depends—”

  “Get out?” he repeated, and glared at me as though I’d lost my mind. Then he narrowed his eyes and his voice became very soft. “It wouldn’t end there for me. I’d never get free.”

  “Of course you would. Look here, it seems downright unpatriotic for you not to want to serve your country for a couple of years. Look at all the men around here in khaki—the town’s crawling with men eager to serve if there’s a place for them—”

  “Then let them go. I’ve got more important things to do.”

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve got to look out for Electra, for one. She needs me more and more, and I’ll be hanged if I let—”

  “What?”

  “Never mind. None of your business. All you do is pry. I can’t stand the way you pick at me all the time. Go away.”

  Nathan spoke in riddles—what did he mean, look after Electra while Cabot was away fighting a revolution? Probably so, but it was likely I would never know for sure, I thought in exasperation. It seemed nothing ever got accomplished for all the “picking”—as Nathan accurately described my work.