The Arms Maker Of Berlin Part 35

"What happened?"

"He said she was dead."

"Goodness. How?"

"I didn't ask, and it was pretty clear he didn't want to talk about it. A week or so later we finished. A month after that they interviewed us about the missing stuff. Then they sent us home. I guess he must have withdrawn his application to extend."

Nat was amazed. At least now they knew why Gordon had held on to Sabine's book-a sentimental attachment, nothing more. Unfortunately, that wouldn't help them find the missing records. Time to zero in on that aspect. He wondered if Kaplan would clam up.

"So this work you two did-handling the records-tell me what the drill was."

"I'll tell you what I told the OSS board of inquiry, what, fifty years ago?"

"More like sixty. Sixty-one, to be exact."

"h.e.l.l, I'm old. Well, everything was already sorted by subject. The folders were numbered, and so were the boxes. All we were supposed to do was make sure every folder was present and accounted for and filed in the right order. We logged the box number on a ledger, and every four boxes went into a bigger container, which we then labeled for s.h.i.+pment via diplomatic mail. We then logged the numbers for those containers on a s.h.i.+pping manifest. Paperwork galore, but I guess that's the government."

"So the four boxes that went missing, they were in the same container?"

"Correct. That's how it showed up on the ledger, anyway."

"Where did you send everything?"

"Some containers went to Dulles's law office in New York, some went straight to OSS headquarters in Was.h.i.+ngton. The rest went to the National Archives."

"Who decided the destinations?"

"That was above our pay grade. I have no idea. Presumably some of the information was a little more 'active' than the rest."

"Go on."

"Not much else to say. We locked up at the end of every workday and first thing the next morning somebody came by to collect the containers we'd packed the day before, for s.h.i.+pment overseas."

"Who kept the keys?"

Kaplan hesitated.

"Gordon."

"They must have asked you about the day you packed up the missing container."

"They did."

"And?"

"Same routine as always. Nothing unusual."

"Did Gordon go back after hours?"

"They asked me that, too. I told them Gordon and I went to dinner, drank a few too many beers at a cafe down on Kornhausplatz, and then crashed at our room. We were both pretty ga.s.sed. When I woke up the next morning Gordon was right where I'd seen him last, half dressed in the other bunk, snoring like a band saw. It's all in my statement."

"And you stand by that statement?"

Kaplan shrugged, but seemed uncomfortable.

"Well, weren't you under oath?"

"The statement came from a chat with an investigator. No oath necessary."

"What about the board of inquiry?"

"Yeah. I took an oath then."

"And?"

"I was asked to read the investigator's statement into the record. Then they asked me whether the statement reflected fully and accurately my comments to the investigator. I said yes, because it did."

"But they never asked if the statement was true?"

"Can't say that they did."

"Well, I'm asking you now. Was the statement true?"

Kaplan looked toward the door, as if expecting Doris to either rescue him or tell him to get a move on. He fidgeted in his chair.

"Mind if I see your credentials?"

Nat showed him. Kaplan nodded, then glanced briefly at Berta. He didn't seem to want to deal with her at all.

"Here's how it went. We were on our way back from the job that night, before we ever had a single beer, when Gordon said he'd left something behind. He didn't say what, and I didn't ask. But he went back to get it."

"The container?"

"Maybe."

"Had he done anything that day to draw attention to any particular box?"

Kaplan placed his hands on his thighs, as if bracing himself.

"I remember he was thumbing through some folders, counting them, when all of a sudden he stopped and got this look in his eye. A cold anger, I guess you'd call it. For a while I thought he was about to lose it. When I asked what was wrong he mumbled something and just sat there. Then he shuffled through a few more items, taped up the box, and put it on the pile."

"What did he mumble?"

" 'The b.a.s.t.a.r.d.'"

" 'The b.a.s.t.a.r.d'? That's it?"

Kaplan glanced at Berta.

"I believe the full quote was 'The c.o.c.ksucking b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' but, yep, that was it."

"Did you know who he was referring to?"

He shook his head.

"Did you ask later?"

"You're a lot more thorough than that investigator, I'll say that. Yes, I asked later. He just gave me some code name, which didn't mean a d.a.m.n thing to me then and would mean even less to me now."

"Do you remember it?"

"I'm not positive, but it was something scientific, or technical, and then there was a number. Like 'Milligram.' Or 'Magnum.'"

"Followed by a number?"

"Yeah."

"Could it have been 'Magneto II'?"

Kaplan looked up abruptly, with a light in his eyes.

"That was it. Exactly."

"You said he shuffled through a few more items?"

"He pulled out some of the papers and read through 'em. He did it with a couple of folders. It made me uneasy, but what the h.e.l.l. n.o.body had exactly told us not not to, so I didn't say anything. Then, like I said, he sealed it up and logged it in the ledger. Just the way I testified. And for the rest of the afternoon he was very quiet." to, so I didn't say anything. Then, like I said, he sealed it up and logged it in the ledger. Just the way I testified. And for the rest of the afternoon he was very quiet."

"Why'd you lie for him?"

"I told you. I didn't. Everything I said under oath was true. Or technically true."

"But you lied to the investigator."

"Well, that was different. Some fellow came to ask us about everything, and before I knew it Gordon was giving his version of how we'd both gone straight to a bar and then crashed in our bunks. It wasn't like I was going to call him a liar right there in front of this guy. So when the fellow wrote out the statement, I signed it. We both did."

"The investigator interviewed the two of you at the same time?"

"Yep."

"Well, that was d.a.m.n stupid."

"I thought so. But believe me, at the time this was not a big deal. We'd just won the war, and a lot of people were already more worried about the Reds than a few leftover n.a.z.is, or a bunch of old paperwork. The so-called board of inquiry was just three guys at a table. There were a dozen items on the agenda, and we were in and out in ten minutes."

"Anything else you didn't tell the investigator? And, believe me, I'm not good enough to figure out what it might be, so you're going to have to help me."

"You hear that, Murray?" Doris again, from the next room. "Either you tell him what you told me, or I will."

This drew a smile from Kaplan, who seemed to have decided, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Maybe one thing," he said coyly. "About that girl of his. Turns out, she wasn't dead. But I guess to Gordon she might as well have been, 'cause she'd gotten hitched."

"She was married? How do you know?"

"The week we went home I'm walking through the Barenplatz and I see her, the one from the picture, sitting on a bench plain as day."

"You're sure?"

"Positive. So I called her by name. Sabine. She looked right up."

"What'd she say?"

"She wouldn't have anything to do with me. Put her head down like she wanted me to get lost. But I couldn't just let it drop because, h.e.l.l, Gordon was all torn up. So I said, 'Hey, Gordon's been looking all over for you.' Then she started to cry. So did the baby."

"She had a baby? baby?"

"Tiny thing. Couldn't have been more than a few months old. I was about to apologize when this guy runs up. Local man, forty if he was a day. Tells me I better scram, 'cause he don't care who won the war, I've got no business bothering his wife and child."

"Wow."

"Yep. That was pretty much my reaction."

"Did you tell Gordon?"

"Never had the heart. Besides, once I had time to think about it, I figured he already knew. Funny thing was, I recognized the guy."

"Sabine's husband?"

"Heinrich Jurgens. Ran a little hotel where we used to billet interned airmen before a prisoner exchange. I'd handled those arrangements, so I recognized him right away. Fortunately he didn't remember me or he might have made trouble. That was the last thing I needed a week before s.h.i.+pping out."

"Jurgens? Was that the name of his hotel?"

"Sure was."

Nat reached into his pocket for the matchbook he'd been carrying like a rabbit's foot. It was a little worse for wear, and the cardboard was limp from Florida humidity. But the white lettering on the red cover was still boldly legible. He handed it to Kaplan, who eyed it as if it was a crystal ball.

"Where'd you get this?"

"Yes," Berta added, an edge to her voice. "Where did did you get that, and when?" you get that, and when?"

Oops.

"Gordon left it for me, in the same box with the key to the storage locker."

"There was a box?" Berta said.

Their eyes met. The Florida room was suddenly a very chilly place, and at that moment they both knew their next destination. They knew as well that they wouldn't be making the trip together. From here on out it would be a race. She was probably already regretting she had even told him about the spyware, and he was certainly regretting showing her the matchbook.

"So was this a help?" Kaplan said, suddenly feeling left out.