The Incidental Spy (7 page)

L
ena was at work one evening in late September. The door to the Department was closed, but a breeze with just a hint of fall wafted through a window. She was glad summer was over; the heat and humidity had seemed particularly harsh this year. She’d just finished photographing the latest batch of letters and documents and was putting the originals back into the file cabinet when she felt a draft. She spun around.

A man in an army uniform stood at the door to the Department, his gaze locked on her. The stripes on his shoulders said he was an officer. He had short bristly gray hair, pale blue eyes that were a touch rheumy. Frown lines etched across his forehead. He’d once been fit, she thought, but a large belly indicated those days were over. In the short sleeves of his summer uniform, his arms and the back of his hands were covered with heavy dark hair, which gave him a slightly simian look.

Lena froze. How long had he been there? Why hadn’t she heard the door open? What had he seen? Panic crawled up her spine. Her arms and legs felt like they had suddenly detached from her body.

The man folded his arms. “And just what are you doing, young lady?”

The blood left her head in a rush. She wanted to look down to see if her hands were shaking but she didn’t dare. This was it. She had been caught. Then she recalled one of Hans’ rules of tradecraft. If she was ever cornered or caught, the best defense was a good offense. She’d told Hans at the time she didn’t know if she could. He’d chuckled and said,

“You will. You’ll see.”

Now, she realized he was right. There was no other option. She drew herself up, not sure where her courage was coming from. “I should be asking the same of you.”

The officer’s brows shot up. “Do you know who I am?”

Lena mustered what she hoped was an intimidating scowl. “I have no idea. So I will call security. This is a protected facility.” She started toward the telephone on her desk.

He took a step forward. “I am Colonel Charles Collins.”

Lena continued to her desk and slipped behind it. Her purse was on the floor, and as she got to it, she unobtrusively kicked it further under the desk. Then she lifted her gaze, as if she’d just made the connection. “Collins? You were here a few years ago.”

“I was. And now I’m back.” His expression bordered on arrogance. “Who are you?”

She eyed him warily. A wave of trepidation rolled through her, but she was damned if she’d let him see it. “The Department is closed, Colonel. In fact, I am obligated to report your unauthorized visit. How did you get this far? Our security is first-rate.”

“Whoever you are, you clearly do not know my position.”

“And you do not know mine.” Lena was amazed at herself. Where had she acquired this steely resolve? She opened her drawer, took out paper and pen, and wrote his name down. “A report will be filed tomorrow morning.”

“And to whom do you think the reports go?”

She looked him up and down, wondering if he could smell the fear on her.

“I am in charge of security. My job is to ensure there are no breaches at the Met Lab. Now. You either tell me who you are or I will have you detained.”

Lena didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but in case he was telling the truth, she answered. “I am Lena Stern, one of the secretaries for the Department.” She hesitated. “And if what you are saying is true, why was I not told about you?” It felt like a bird was fluttering inside her stomach.

“Obviously your security clearance level is not high enough,” he said.

The stress coupled with his self-importance made her want to let out a nervous laugh. She pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t.

“Why are you here?” He repeated.

She parried the question. “If you are who you say you are, you would know.”

He stared at her, his face reddening.

“There is so much work these days that I occasionally stay late to catch up.” She bent down and reached for her purse, hoping he wouldn’t spot the Minox lying on top. “But now if you’ll excuse me, Colonel…” She snapped the clasp of her purse shut. “…I am going home.”

She felt his eyes on her back as she walked out the door.

C
ollins became a ubiquitous, unwanted presence in the department. He was intrusive, especially to those below his rank, which was almost everyone, since most of the scientists were civilians. But the Army had been put back in charge of the Manhattan Project, and Collins was free to meddle. Every day he demanded clearances, records, documents, and memos, disrupting both Lena and Sonia’s workload. They understood the importance of security, but Collins used it as a cudgel to force his way into situations. The only person who could control him was Compton, but he was preoccupied by meetings with top army and government officials and wasn’t around much. Most of the staff came to loathe Collins.

Because of him, Lena told Hans she’d have to slow down for a while. It was too risky. Hans agreed. Lena was happy to leave work at a reasonable time for a change, and spent more time with Max. He was three and a half now, and a curious child. He asked questions all the time, and Lena found herself studying how birds flew, how clouds formed, and why leaves turned colors.

Meanwhile Irving continued to be worrisome. Lena hadn’t had the heart to tell him they were through. Still, she did cut down on the time she spent with him, and she could tell he was growing frustrated. She worried about how he’d react when she told him it was over.

* * *

The crisis came in October. Lena had just put Max down for the night when the buzzer sounded. She pressed the intercom button, and a crisp voice said, “This is Colonel Collins.”

Lena’s knees buckled. Why was he here? Had he discovered proof of her treason? Was this the knock on her door in the middle of the night? She feared the worst. Still, she’d learned to be on the offense with him. “Colonel,” she said sharply. “It’s late. I’m just about to retire for the night.”

He cleared his throat. “I have urgent business to discuss.”

Her throat closed up. What should she do? His voice cut in. “Please, Mrs. Stern.”

She drew back. He sounded almost polite. Could it possibly be about something other than her espionage? She took a breath and buzzed him in.

When she opened the door, she saw he was still in uniform, but it was wrinkled and creased as if he’d been rolling around on the floor. His face was pale as well. Normally, he had a too ruddy look. She smelled alcohol on him.

“Thank you for seeing me,” he said.

She gave him a cautious nod. “Come in, Colonel. But please keep your voice down. My son is asleep.”

He stepped in and looked around. Lena’s natural civility kicked in.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“You got anything stronger?”

Surprised at the request, she stammered, “I—I— might.” She went into the kitchen and rummaged through a cabinet. Irving had brought over some whiskey a few months earlier. She found it behind the canisters of flour and sugar. It was nearly full. About to ask him how he took it, she turned around and suddenly started. Collins was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. She hadn’t heard him approach. She jumped back. This is it, she thought. I am
gefickt
.

He held up his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

She let out a breath, trying to suppress her fear. “How—how do you take it? The whiskey, I mean?”

“Straight. Just a glass.”

She got one out, filled it halfway, and handed it to him. They headed back to the living room. Lena sat in the chair, leaving him the sofa. She laced her hands together.

He sat down and took a long pull on the drink.

“What’s so important, Colonel?” She tried to keep the edge out of her voice, but she was still nervous.

“I have a proposition for you.”

Her eyebrows went up. If this was a confrontation, it was a strange way to begin. She sat up straighter.

“I know you are seeing one of the physicists in the department.”

She stiffened.

“Irving Mandell. Don’t deny it. Several sources have confirmed it.”

“Colonel,” Lena said in a cool voice. “You know how tongues wag and rumors begin. Usually they are greatly exaggerated. I lost my husband ten months ago. I am still in mourning.”

“Are you saying it isn’t true, Mrs. Stern?”

Lena couldn’t resist. “It is not. But even if it was, what business is it of yours?”

“Mandell’s business is very much my business, Mrs. Stern. We believe,” he cleared his throat, “that he is spying for a foreign government.”

Lena froze. Irving? A spy? She sagged against the chair. How had they come to that conclusion? Or was this a trap? Was Collins accusing Irving, hoping that Lena would defend him and blurt out the truth? She had to be careful.

“That is impossible,” she finally said. “Irving is one of the most loyal, patriotic people I know.” She paused. “What makes you believe he isn’t?”

“You know I can’t divulge that. It’s classified.”

Of course it was, she thought. In some ways, with his visits after dark, his innuendo and interrogation techniques, this American was not so different from a Nazi. But what about the substance of his remarks? It’s the Pile, she decided. Someone knows they were there. But why would he single out Irving and not her too?

“Mrs. Stern,” He took another long drink. “You can deny it all you want, but I know the two of you are seeing each other. I have photos of you together. At a restaurant just off campus.”

Stunned, Lena sat up straight. “You’ve been following us? And you have photos?” Her voice rose an octave. She was unsure whether to be terrified or furious.

Collins raised a finger to his lips. “You might want to lower your voice. Didn’t you say your son was sleeping?” His mouth curled into a tiny smile of triumph.

Lena went mute. All she could do was glare.

He pointed his finger. “You see, Mrs. Stern, you’re right about one thing. I don’t care about the nature of your relationship. If the two of you are fucking like rabbits, that’s your choice. What I do care about is the security of the Met Lab. And for that, I need your help.”

Lena kept her mouth shut. She was afraid even to blink, for fear she would reveal something she shouldn’t.

“In fact, I want you to keep your courtship going. See him as much as you can. Deepen your relationship.” He couldn’t resist a smile. “On one condition, of course. You will report back to me. Let me know everything he is doing. At work and at play. I need evidence.”

“You want me to spy on my co-worker.”

“Plural,” he said.

“What are you talking about?”

“Mandell is number one on my list. But there are others. I want you to be my eyes and ears when I’m not around. Anything you find that is top secret. Anything that will give us intel on our enemies.”

Lena inclined her head. “Intel?”

He nodded. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Nausea climbed up Lena’s throat. Things had gone far enough. “I will not do it. Irving is the farthest thing from a spy. He would never betray his country. Or his colleagues. He is proud to be an American. So are the others in the department. I will not stoop to your level.”

“I’m glad you brought up the term ‘American’ Mrs. Stern,” Collins said. “I have studied your background as well. I know you are a refugee from Germany. And a Jew.”

There was just the slightest emphasis on the word “Jew.”

“I am an American citizen. My husband worked at Met Lab. That is where we met.”

“I am aware of that.” He waved a hand. “But in this environment, in these times, one never knows who is a friend and who is an enemy. If you do not cooperate, your life—and that of your son could become—well—difficult.”

“Are you threatening me, Colonel?” Lena said. She was shaking with rage now, not fear.

“Not at all, Mrs. Stern. Just reminding you of your duty as an American. Especially during a war in which enemies are all around us. Think it over.”

L
ena couldn’t sleep. She went to the kitchen, poured some of the whiskey she’d given Collins, and tossed it down. She had to tell Irving that Collins suspected him of espionage, but how could she do that without exposing herself? For all she knew, that was Collins’ plan all along. He’d never liked her, and now he had a good reason to keep a close eye on her through Irving.

She was now going to be exploited by two groups, each for their own purposes. It didn’t matter that Collins was clumsier and less sophisticated than the Germans. To both groups she was nothing more than a pawn, an insignificant player on a complicated chessboard. What would they do to her when she had served her purpose? What would they do to Max?

She covered her face with her hands. She was approaching a point of no return. Her days as a spy—perhaps even life itself—were numbered. How had it come to this? Maybe she should have stayed in Germany with her family and Josef. She would undoubtedly be dead by now, but at least it would have been a honorable death. Unsullied by shame or scandal.

She paced back and forth in the living room. There might be someone whose help she could enlist. He’d been the one person—the only person—to suggest a connection between events. She had no reason to think he would help her; he might throw her to the wolves, like the others surely would. And if he did help, life would become more difficult. She tried to brainstorm other options, but she didn’t see any.

She rummaged around the apartment for his card. He’d given it to her months earlier. She searched the kitchen, then the bedroom, but couldn’t find it. She grew more frantic. She had to find it. She finally saw it in her jewelry box on the dresser. She grabbed it and practically ran to the telephone.

When he answered, she said breathlessly, “This is Lena Stern. You helped when my husband Karl—was—died. And then when my son was kidnapped.”

“Hello, Lena,” Agent Lanier said. “I’ve been waiting for your call.”

T
he following morning ushered in a crisp fall day, the kind that evoked thoughts of a sweet new year filled with apples and honey. The High Holidays had come and gone—they’d been early this year— but the swirl of scarlet, yellow, and orange leaves outside was a reminder of the season. Lena gave Max extra hugs before leaving for work.

She was under strict instructions not to tell Hans or Collins about her conversation with Lanier. He had come over after she called, and sat, ironically, in the same spot on the sofa as Collins. She told him everything. Then they discussed her options.

“I want you to work for us.”

“Us?”

“The United States.”

“I thought I already was. Through Collins.”

“We haven’t been able to pin him down. He may be a rogue agent, working for himself because he wasn’t formally assigned to Manhattan. Or maybe he’s something else. We just don’t know.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Essentially, we want you to mix up your intel. Put misleading information in some of the documents you pass to Hans. Collins too. Things that either mean nothing or are outright lies.”

Lena bit her lip, thinking back to the sketch of the Pile she’d altered. She told Lanier about it.

“Exactly. Good work. That’s what we want.”

“But how? How will I figure out what is meaningful and what isn’t?”

“I’ll let you know. I’ll take a look at everything you’re planning to pass. A day won’t make much difference. You’ll have to make sure I get a copy of everything before you send it on.”

“How will I get it to you?”

“How do you do it now?”

She told him.

He nodded. “We’ll set up our own dead drop.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “What happens when they realize the documents have been adulterated?”

“They won’t,” he paused, “if you’re careful. Remember, you’re going to be passing them genuine intel also.”

“To Collins too, you say?”

Lanier nodded. “At this point, it’s better to be safe than sorry, don’t you agree?”

Lena didn’t reply.

“Hey. I’m gonna do my best to back you up. You’re working for the good guys now.”

Skeptical, she flashed him a look.

“Okay.” He shifted. She could smell his aftershave. “Now, let’s talk about tomorrow.”

* * *

Lena had two tasks. One, she was to tell Hans that Irving was now suspected of spying himself, and it was her fault. She would ask Hans what he could to manage the situation. She would also talk about winding down her work. She would tell him she was prepared for the consequences, but she had to be honest; she was slowly going mad with guilt. Two, she would tell Irving about Collins’ visit. He deserved to know he was under surveillance, she would say. Perhaps together they could come up with a solution to the Colonel’s scheming.

She wanted to talk to Irving right away, but she had to wait; he usually dropped by around lunchtime. Today, though, lunchtime came and went without him. Lena asked Sonia if she’d seen him. Sonia shook her head.

“But I have something to tell you.”

Lena felt her stomach twist.

“I finally heard from Frank,” Sonia grinned. “He’s all right. He’ll be coming home in a couple of months.” Sonia’s husband had been drafted and fought the Battle of Midway over the summer, but Sonia hadn’t heard from him in weeks.

A wave of relief so profound it came out as a gasp swept over Lena. “That’s wonderful, Sonia. Congratulations!” She pasted on a smile and hoped it looked genuine.

“There’s something else.” Sonia tilted her head. “Once he’s home, I—I won’t be coming back.”

“Oh, no.” Lena realized she had become fond of the girl. Not to mention that whoever replaced her might be a plant. She squeezed her eyes shut. She despised having to think this way.

“I am not as dedicated as you, Lena,” Sonia added. “I could never spend all the time at work that you do.” Dedicated? Is that what Sonia thought? Lena bit back a reply. She didn’t want to spoil Sonia’s joy.

* * *

Lena went to a pay phone after lunch and made a call.

“Where have you been, Irving? I’ve been so worried.”

“I was fired.”

“What? Why?”

“Collins knows I was in the Pile when I wasn’t supposed to be. The guard told him he heard two people. He didn’t know the other, but he thought it was a woman. Collins thinks I’m a spy. He says he’ll keep it under wraps if I go quietly.”

“That’s impossible. A spy? For whom?” Lena asked. She couldn’t help wondering whether Collins knew the truth about
her
. Had he put the pieces together? Had his night visit been nothing but a ruse after all?

“For the Communists.”

“The Communists? Wherever would he get that idea?” Inwardly, though, she let out a breath. She’d been handed a reprieve. Collins wasn’t focusing on Nazi espionage. But her relief soon turned into self-loathing. How could she be thankful that the Nazis were off the hook?

“Irving?” There was no response. “Irving, we need to talk. This is all my fault.”

Silence on his end. He wasn’t disagreeing.

“Irving,” she said, “I’m going to tell Collins I was the one who wanted to go in. If anything, I should be the one who’s fired.”

This time he answered. “No. There’s no sense both of us suffering.”

She hoped he’d say that. “But I can’t let you take the blame when it was my idea.” She pondered whether there really
was
any way to salvage the situation. Could she actually try to convince Collins that Irving was innocent? That it had been just an adventure? No. He’d never believe her. He’d either think she was defending Irving, or he’d focus his suspicions on her. He probably had already. Then again, what did it matter? It was just a matter of time until she was exposed by Hans, Collins, perhaps even Lanier.

“No.” Irving was firm. “You can’t lose your job. I know how much you depend on it.” He paused. “But I do have a question. Why did you want to see the Pile so badly? Is there something I should know?”

Mein Gott
. Lena stared at a sign for the dry cleaners across the street, but all she saw was a blurry mass of letters. She must not be a very good spy if her supposed boyfriend distrusted her. She wanted to melt into the ground, like that witch in the movie about Dorothy and the Wizard. She answered carefully.

“Irving, you know me. What do you think?”

A long pause followed. Then, “I’m sorry, Lena. It’s just this—all of this—is so alien to my whole being. My parents said I could move back in with them. But how can I? It—it would be admitting failure. If I can’t work at Met Lab, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“You are not a spy, Irving. We both know it.” She continued in a rush, grasping for something to say. “For all we know, Collins may be anti-Semitic. It wouldn’t be surprising.”

He sighed. “Anti-Jew Pro-Jew, who cares? It could be anyone… Sonia… you.. me… even Compton, for Christ’s sake. A cloud of suspicion can fall on anyone these days.”

“Irving, stop!” What had she done to this wonderful young man? He was a shadow of what he had once been. A despondent, sad shadow. And it was her doing.

“Lena, I want to see you tonight. Please. Can I come over?”

She covered her eyes with one hand. She was meeting Hans that evening. She couldn’t risk the two running into each other. She was just about to suggest the next night instead when he cut in.

“I understand.” He’d mistaken the silence as her answer. “Goodbye, Lena.”

“No, wait, Irving. That’s not—”

But he’d hung up.