mean, there's no great call for engineers ... outside of the CCC and the
NRA.' He lifted his right hand and waved it laterally in front of him,
encompassing the group of men and women inside the studio. 'Do you know
what's in there? A trial lawyer whose clients - when he can get a few -
can't pay him; a Rolls-Royce executive who's been laid off since
thirty-eight; and a former state senator whose campaign a few years ago not
only cost him his job but also a lot of potential employers. They think
he's a Red. Don't fool yourself, Ed. You've got it good. The Depression
isn't over by a long shot. These people are the lucky ones. They found
avocations they've turned into careers.... As long as they last.'
. 'If I do my job, his career won't last any longer than a month from now.'
'I figured it was something like that. The storm's building, isn't it?
We'll be in it pretty soon. And I'll be back, too .....
Where do you want to use him?'
Usbon.'
David Spaulding pushed himself away from the white studio wall. He held up
the pages of his script as he approached the microphone, preparing for his
cue.
Pace watched him through the glass partition, wondering how Spaulding's
voice would sound. He noticed that as Spaulding came closer to the group of
actors clustered around the microphone, there was a conscious - or it
seemed conscious - parting of bodies, as if the new participant was in some
way a stranger. Perhaps it was only normal courtesy, allowing the new per-
former a chance to position himself, but the colonel didn't think so. There
were no smiles, no looks, no indications of familiarity as there seemed to
be among the others.
No one winked. Even the obese woman who screamed and chewed gum and goosed
her fellow actors just stood and watched Spaulding, her gum immobile in her
mouth.
.15
And then it happened-, a curious moment.
Spaulding grinned, and the others, even the thin, effeminate man who was in
the middle of a monologue, responded with bright smiles and nods. The obese
woman winked.
A curious moment, thought Colonel Pace.
Spaulding's voice - mid-deep, incisive, heavily accented -came through the
webbed boxes. His role was that of a mad doctor and bordered on the comic.
It would have been comic, thought Pace, except for the authority Spaulding
gave the writer's words. Pace didn't know anything about acting, but he
knew when a man was being convincing, Spaulding was convincing.
That would be necessary in Lisbon.
In a few minutes Spaulding's role was obviously over. The obese woman
screamed again; Spaulding retreated to the comer and quietly, making sure
the pages did not rustle, picked up his folded newspaper. He leaned against
the wall and withdrew a pencil from his pocket. He appeared to be doing The
New York Times crossword puzzle.
Pace couldn't take his eyes off Spaulding. It was important for him to
observe closely any subject with whom he had to make contact whenever
possible. Observe the small things: the way a man walked; the way he held
his head; the steadiness or lack of it in his eyes. The clothes, the watch,
the cuff links; whether the shoes were shined, if the heels were worn down;
the quality -or lack of quality - in a man's posture.
Pace tried to match the human being leaning against the wall, writing on
the newspaper, with the dossier in his Washington office.
His name first surfaced from the files of the Army Corps of Engineers.
David Spaulding had inquired about the possibilities of a commission - not
volunteered: what would his opportunities be? were , there any challenging
construction projects? what about the length-of-service commitments? The
sort of questions thousands of men - skilled men - were asking, knowing
that the Selective Service Act would become law within a week or two. If
enlistment meant a shorter commitment and/or the continued practice of
their professional skills, then better an enlistment than be drafted with
the mobs.
Spaulding had filled out all the appropriate forms and had been told the
army would contact him. That had been six weeks
16
ago and no one had done so. Not that the Corps wasn't interested; it was.
The word from the Roosevelt men was that the draft law would be passed by
Congress any day now, and the projected expansion of the army camps was so
enormous, so incredibly massive, that an engineer - especially a
construction engineer of Spaulding's qualifications - was target material.
. But those high up in the Corps of Engineers were aware of the search being
conducted by the Intelligence Division of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the
War Department.
Quietly, slowly. No mistakes could be made.
So they passed along David Spaulding's forms to G-2 and were told in turn
to stay away from him.
The man ID was seeking had to have three basic qualifications. Once these
were established, the rest of the portrait could be microscopically
scrutinized to see if the whole being possessed the other desirable
requirements. The three basics were difficult enough in themselves: the
first was fluency in the Portuguese language; the second, an equal mastery
of German; the third, sufficient professional experience in structural
engineering to enable swift and accurate understanding of blueprints,
photographs - even verbal descriptions - of the widest variety of in-
dustrial designs. From bridges and factories to warehousing and railroad
complexes.
The man in Lisbon would need each of these basic requirements. He would
employ them throughout the war that was to be; the war that the United
States inevitably would have to fight.
The man in Lisbon would be responsible for developing an Intelligence
network primarily concerned with the destruction of the enemy's
installations deep within its own territories.
Certain men - and women - traveled back and forth through hostile
territories, basing their undefined activities in neutral countries. These
were the people the man in Lisbon would use ... before others used them.
These plus those he would train for infiltration. Espionage units. Teams of
bi- and trilingual agents he would send up through France into the borders
of Germany. To bring back their observations; eventually to inflict
destruction themselves.
The English agreed that such an American was needed in Lisbon. British
Intelligence admitted its Portuguese weakness-, they had simply been around
too long, too obviously. And there were current, very serious lapses of
security in London. MI-5 had
17
been infiltrated.
Lisbon would become an American project.
If such an American could be found.
David Spaulding's preapplication forms listed the primary requisites. He
spoke three languages, had spoken them since he was a child. His parents,
the renowned Richard and Margo Spaulding, maintained three residences: a
small, elegant Belgravia flat in London; a winter retreat in Germany's
BadenBaden; and a
sprawling oceanside house in the artists' colony of Costa
del Santiago in Portugal. Spaulding had grown up in these environs. When he
was sixteen, his father - over the objections of his mother - insisted that
he complete his secondary education in the United States and enter an
American university.
Andover in Massachusetts; Dartmouth in New Hampshire; finally Carnegie
Institute in Pennsylvania.
Of course, the Intelligence Division hadn't discovered all of the above
information from Spaulding's application forms. These supplementary facts.-
and a great deal more - were revealed by a man named Aaron Mandel in New
York.
Pace, his eyes still riveted on the tall, lean man who had put down his
newspaper and was now watching the actors around the microphones with
detached amusement, recalled his single meeting with Mandel. Again, he
matched Mandel's information with the man he saw before him.
Mandel had been listed on the application under 'References.'
Power-of-attorney, parents' concert manager. An address was given: a suite
of rooms in the Chrysler Building. Mandel was a very successful artists'
representative, a Russian Jew who rivaled Sol Hurok for clients, though not
as prone to attract attention or as desirous of it.
'David has been as a son to me,' Mandel told Pace. 'But I must presume you
know that.'
'Why must you? I know only what I've read on his application forms. And
some scattered information; academic records, employment references.' -
'Let's say I've been expecting you. Or someone like you.'
'I beg your pardonT
'Oh, come. David spent a great many years in Germany; you might say he
almost grew up there.'
'His application'. . . as a matter of fact his passport information, also
includes family residences in London and a place called
18
Costa del Santiago in Portugal!
'I said almost. He converses easily in the German language!
'Also Portuguese, I understand.'
'Equally so. And its sister tongue, Spanish.... I wasn't aware that a man's
enlistment in the army engineers called for a full colonel's interest. And
passport research! Mandel, the flesh creased around his eyes, smiled.
'I wasn't prepared for you.' The colonel's reply had been stated simply.
'Most people take this sort of thing as routine. Or they convince
themselves it's routine ... with a little help.'
'Most people did not live as Jews in tsarist Kiev.... What do you want from
me?'
'To begin with, did you tell Spaulding you expected us? Or someone. . . .'
'Of course not,' Mandel interrupted gently. 'I told you, he is as a son to
me. I wouldn't care to give him such ideas.'
'I'm relieved. Nothing may come of it anyway.'
'However, you hope it will.'
'Frankly, yes. But there are questions we need answered. His background
isn't just unusual, it seems filled with contradictions. To begin with, you
don't expect the son of well-known musicians ... Imean...'
'Concert artists! Mandel had supplied the term Pace sought.
'Yes, concert artists. You don't expect the children of such people to
become engineers. Or accountants, if you know what I mean. And then - and
I'm sure you'll understand this - it seems highly illogical that once that
fact is accepted, the son is an engineer, we find that the major portion of
his income is currently earned as a ... as a radio performer. The pattern.
indicates a degree of instability. Perhaps more than a degree.'
'You suffer from the American mania for consistency. I don't say this
unkindly. I would be less than adequate as a neurosurgeon; you may play the
piano quite well, but I doubt that I'd represent you at Covent Garden....
The questions you raise are easily answered. And, perhaps, the word
stability can be found at the core.... Have you any idea, any conception,
of what the world of the concert stage is like? Madness .... David lived in
this world for nearly twenty years; I suspect . . . no, I don't suspect, I
know ... he found it quite distasteful ... And so often people overlook
certain fundamental characteristics of musicianship. Characteristics easily
inherited. A great musician is often,
19
in his own way, an exceptional mathematician. Take Bach. A genius at
mathematics. . . .'
According to Aaron Mandel, David Spaulding found his future profession
while in his second year in,college. The solidity, the permanence of
structural creation combined with the precision of engineering detail were
at once his answer to and escape from the mercurial world of the 'concert
stage.' But there were other inherited characteristics equally at work
inside him. Spaulding had an ego, a sense of independence. He needed
approval, wanted recognition. And such rewards were not easily come by for
a junior engineer, just out of graduate school, in a large New York firm
during the late thirties. There simply wasn't that much'to do; or the
capital to do it with.
'He left the New York firm,' Mandel continued, 'to accept a number of
individual construction projects where he believed the money would grow
faster, the jobs be his own. He had no ties; he could travel. Several in
the Midwest, one ... no, two, in Central America; four in Canada, I think.
He got the first few right out of the newspapers; they led to the others.
He returned to New York about eighteen months ago. The money didn't really
grow, as I told him it wouldn't. The projects were not his own; provincial
... local interference.'
'And somehow this led to the radio work?'
Mandel had laughed and leaned back in his chair. 'As you may know, Colonel
Pace, I've diversified. The concert stage and a European war - soon to
reach these shores, as we all realize - do not go well together. These last
few years my clients have gone into other performing areas, including the
highly paid radio field. David quickly saw opportunities for himself and I
agreed. He's done-extremely well, you know.'
'But he's not at rained professional.'
'No, he's not. He has something else, however... Think. Most children of
well-known performers, or leading politicians, or the immensely rich, for
that matter, have it. It's a public confidence, an assurance, if you will;
no matter their private hisecurities. After all, they've generally been on
display since the time they could walk and talk. David certainly has it.
And he has a good ear; as do both of his parents, obviously. An aural
memory for musical or linguistic rhythms.... He doesn't act, he reads.
Almost exclusively in the dialects or the foreign languages he knows
fluently.
20
David Spaulding's excursion into the 'highly paid radio field' was solely
motivated by money; he was used to living well. At a time when owners of
engineering companies found it difficult to guarantee themselves a hundred
dollars a week, Spaulding was earning three or four hundred from his 'radio
work' alone.
'As you may have surmised,' said Mandel, 'David's immediate objective is to
bank sufficient monies to start h
is own company. Immediate, that is, unless
otherwise shaped by world or national conditions. He's not blind; anyone
who can read a newspaper sees that we are being drawn into the war.'
'Do you think we should beT
'I'm a Jew. As far as I'm concerned, we're late.'
'This Spaulding. You've described what seems to me a very resourceful man.'
'I've described only what you could have found out from any number of
sources. And you have described the conclusion you have drawn from that
surface information. It's not the whole picture.' At this point, Pace
recalled, Mandel had gotten out of his chair, avoiding any eye contact, and
walked about his office. He was searching for negatives; he was trying to
find the words that would disqualify 'his son' from the government's
interests. And Pace had been aware of it. 'What certainly must have struck
you - from what I've told you - is David's preoccupation with himself, with
his comforts, if you wish. Now, in a business sense this might be
applauded; therefore, I disabused you of your concerns for stability.
However, I would not be candid if I didn't tell you that David is
abnormally headstrong. He operates - I think - quite poorly under
authority. In a word, he's a selfish man, not given to discipline. It pains
me to say this; I love him dearly. . .
And the more Mandel had talked, the more indelibly did Pace imprint the
word affirmative on Spaulding's file. Not that he believed for a minute the
extremes of behavior Mandel suddenly ascribed to David Spaulding - no man
could function as 'stably' as Spaulding had if it were true. But if it were
only half true, it was no detriment; it was an asset.
The last of the requirements.
For if there were any soldier in the United States Army - in or out of
uniform - who would be called upon to operate solely on his own, without
the comfort of the chain of command, without the knowledge that difficult
decisions could be made by his
21
superiors, it was the Intelligence officer in Portugal.
The man in Lisbon.
OCTOBER 8,1939
FAIRFAX, VIRGINIA
There were no names.
Only numbers and letters.
Numbers followed by letters.
Robert Ludlum - Rhineman Exchange.txt Page 2