Authors: Alan Bricklin
Julian held the door for Vickie as they entered the Schweizerhof
hotel and walked arm in arm to a table in the lobby bar. After helping her off
with her coat, pulling out the chair and making sure she was seated, he walked
across the lobby to the cloakroom, waving off the bellboy who offered to take
the coats. He wanted the opportunity to survey as much of the premises as he
could before his meeting with general Waldman a few hours hence. The general
had sent word that a meeting was needed, preferably close to the Italian
border, but stating that he would accommodate the exigencies of Julian, an
offer that indicated to Julian that one, Waldman was seriously worried about
something, and two, it was potentially a significant threat to him, or else he
would not have been willing to so openly play the role of the supplicant. It
also told him that it was unlikely that Gerhard had, at least for the moment, a
viable plan to acquire and sell the plutonium on his own. Kent's disappearance
had placed Julian under suspicion and he was disinclined, given the
circumstance, to leave Bern, especially since there was no plausible reason for
him to do so at the present time. A meeting in Bern presented its own problems,
but it was the better of two bad choices, and so he had reluctantly agreed,
determined that he would do all he could to make it secure and to provide
himself with a safety net. Enter Victoria.
After the initial conquest, Julian took Vickie on a few
dates, dinner or his place for drinks, followed by raucous sex, each time a
seemingly new encounter depending on their moods, at times one the aggressor
and the other docile, at other times both of them battling for dominance and on
still other occasions the two of them seemingly lost in their own worlds of
hedonistic pleasure with little thought of their partner except as a mechanism
of release. For Victoria, it was a momentary escape from a future treading the
quicksand of the British lower class, a mire from which few escaped, for
usually within moments of meeting someone an Englishman had one pegged as to
their station in society and there simply was no evasion. For Julian, it was a
time free of stress and restraints, a circumstance that at best led to body
drenching exhilaration, and at worst was a wasted evening without significant
consequences. Although their roles varied during their carnal encounters, never
was there a time of mutual tenderness.
While he waited for the attendant to fetch the small metal
claim disk, Templeton turned to look back at Vickie, smiling at her as she
discretely waived, and using the moment to look at the faces of as many of the
guests as possible and to scrutinize their actions and habitus as best he could
in the short time, assessing the likelihood of them being an OSS plant. On the
way back to the table he stopped at the desk to ask for Mrs. Bancroft's room
and was glad to hear that she was not currently a guest at the hotel. Returning
to the table he ordered drinks and made small talk while he continued his
surveillance. After finishing his scotch and soda he began to relax, not
because of the alcohol now making its way through his system, but because none
of the guests or passersby exhibited the characteristics of someone on
stakeout, nor had he been followed by any of them. On the walk over from the
office he had taken Vickie into Globus, the major department store in
Switzerland and a fixture since shortly after the beginning of the century,
under the pretext of having to buy something for a special niece, and he spent
at least twenty minutes before purchasing a silk scarf, a rarity due to war
time shortages. The store had multiple entrances, so anyone following him would
have to enter and keep him in sight. If you thought it possible that you were
being tailed, tradecraft suggested that one go to two separate public places,
paying careful attention to the people you saw, and if any of them were at both
places, it was likely that you were being followed. That not being the case, he
settled in to another round of drinks, intermittently popping a peanut into his
mouth, but still remaining vigilant and scanning the lobby every few minutes.
It was a clear night when they left the hotel, the clouds of
the day having dissipated and the stars appearing particularly bright in the
sky. "I'll walk you back to your place before I take care of the meeting
that I have. It shouldn't take too long, then we can go get something to
eat."
"We don't need to go out; I'll have time to prepare a
dinner for us so we can stay in for the evening. It's nicer than always going
to a restaurant." Her apartment was not far, in an inexpensive area only a
few blocks from the train station, and in a few minutes they were standing in
front of her door. They said little during the short walk. She knew better than
to ask him anything about the work he did, and, in reality, there was not much,
other than sex, which they had in common. Julian and Victoria were both aware
of that, at least on some level, but their outbursts of passion fulfilled a
need for each of them, one that neither was willing to forgo. Vickie, key in
hand, paused before ascending the steps, turned to Julian and took hold of his
lapel, pulling his face to hers. He wrapped his hand around the side of her
neck and pressed his lips against her ready mouth, intimation of things to
come. By the time the door clicked shut, his thoughts were already on his
meeting with Gerhard.
Once more, Templeton hastened up the steps of the
Schweizerhof into the capacious lobby, glancing around as he paused to unbutton
his coat before walking to the elevators. Standing outside the open doors of
the elevator was a bellboy, seemingly at attention, waiting for the next guest
to whom he could be of service. As Julian approached, another bellboy walked
up, spoke a few words to his fellow employee, who left and walked back across
the lobby. Responding to the quizzical look of his passenger, the bellboy said,
"Stephan is off work now; I'll take you up. What floor, sir?"
Templeton looked at the lad in front of him. He didn't look
familiar, but the lower echelons of the hotel staff were part of the cadre of
the invisible, the menials that were so often taken for granted. His uniform
seemed a bit small, socks showing between his pant cuffs and his black shoes
which, although not dirty, were not polished to the sheen he had noticed on
others.
Funny, I don't remember their faces, but I notice their polished
shoes.
"Take me to three, please."
"Yes, sir." The ornate doors swung shut, followed
by the metal grate, and the elevator began its ascent.
"Have you worked here long?"
"Oh, no, sir. Today's only my second day. I hope I
haven't done anything wrong."
"No. Everything's fine." The lift jerked to a stop
and the boy opened the doors, taking a half step out and extending his arm as
if welcoming Templeton to the third floor. Looking back after he exited, Julian
saw the bellboy kneeling down to tie a shoelace, a lace which Julian knew had
not been untied on the trip up. He did an about face and walked back to where
the boy was now standing up. "Did I drop something?"
"I was just tying my shoelace. Uh, no, you didn't drop
anything." His discomfiture showed and seemed to increase palpably as
Templeton stood there in silence, looking at him until he mumbled words that
were a cross between an apology and an indication that he was glad to be of
service.
After the doors closed, Julian hurried to the stairs and walked
the two flights to the fifth floor where Gerhard waited for him. Emerging from
the stairs, he saw an elderly couple walking his way he and he ambled down the
corridor, nodding to them as he passed, then turned the corner. Several doors
from the room where Waldman had said he'd be waiting there was a maid in front
of an open door, bending over her cart to remove clean linen. She looked up and
smiled as he approached, blond hair falling on a peaches and cream face, her
décolletage familiar to Julian who did remember seeing her here before and
returned her smile with relief. He knocked and coughed, and was quickly
admitted to Waldman's room.
The general immediately launched into his concerns and, as
Julian suspected, he was worried that in spite of all he had done to assure
that he was the one who ended up with the prize pig to sell, it may somehow
have eluded him, and he would be left with nothing to look forward to except
war crime trials. "Eva and your agent left Maria's apartment several days
ago but she has not contacted me, nor do any of my underlings in Munich know
her whereabouts. Would you by chance have information as to where they
are?"
"Are you worried, general?" Julian couldn't resist
the opportunity to needle the worried SS officer, although he himself, also had
plenty of reason to be concerned. However, at least he now knew that Waldman
had not absconded with the plutonium.
"No need to be condescending; we both have a lot at
stake here, and we each have cards not yet played."
Templeton assumed he referred to his knowledge of the plot,
Kent's disappearance and the possibility that he might trade this information
to the OSS, a prospect that would put Templeton behind bars for the rest of his
life, and which, for the general, held little downside if he was bereft of the
plutonium. Always the pragmatist, he continued in a different vein.
"You're right, Gerhard. Like it or not we're partners and we really need
to cooperate, especially at this point in the game. I think we've shown that we
each have the ability to screw the other, but now we must accept that the prize
has to be split or else it will be lost to both of us."
"Agreed. Do you have any information?"
"No, and I've had to restrict my activities because
Kent's absence throws suspicion on me."
"I'm sorry about that, but ... "
Templeton interrupted, "It's done and can't be undone.
I'll just have to deal with it. I have contacts that may be able to shed some
light on what's happened, but you'll have to get word to them."
"Me? I think it highly unlikely that any partisan or
operative would want to meet with a German SS general."
"You're right about that, but we can do it as a dead
letter drop. With the Third Reich collapsing all over Europe, there are
backroom deals being brokered almost daily and everyone's come to expect
strange bedfellows. I'll write out a message as well as instructions you can
give to one of your men. What about your resources?"
"The few men left in and around Munich who are still
loyal to me have already been contacted and are making inquiries along the
route from Munich to the Bodensee, lake Constance you call it. I assume his
exit path must be in that region."
"Close. He entered Germany by crossing the lake, and
the original plan had him exiting the same way, but the final instructions I
gave him before he left changed that. He will be met at Hohenems. You know the
place?"
"Western Austria, at the Swiss border, actually not far
from where you and I met before. A rather independent part of Austria where the
people always seem to march to their own tune."
"A good place to recruit help for the allied
cause."
"Yes, but his journey will be more difficult. He will
have to head south before the eastern shore of the lake. Perhaps he has already
been captured."
"Well, that's what you and I have to determine. I'll
give you two letters to leave, one asking for information, and the other
alerting my contacts that he may be delayed. Once I have the plutonium,
assuming our boy makes it, we'll meet for the final time near Altstatten ——
you remember the place. Wear civilian clothes and be ready to travel. No
luggage, just a toothbrush and a change of underwear. I'll get you on a plane
to Lisbon, and from there to South America, where I'm sure you must have some
friends."
"How will I know if he makes it to Hohenems?"
"The letters I'm giving you will provide instructions
for the men who will meet him. You'll have to get someone to check the drop
every day."
"And how do you propose to get the plutonium from the
agent?"
"The people meeting him will provide shielding and
carry it for him since the package will now be rather heavy."
"And when he returns to your headquarters, how will the
absence of the object of the mission be explained?"
"The agent won't make it. Another operative lost behind
enemy lines. The original recovery team will be waiting for his signal from the
German shore of the lake, at the point where headquarters believes he will
exit. Eventually they'll give up."
"And if he is already lost, dead or captured?"
"Then, my friend, we both have to cover our tracks as
best we can. The men who are waiting for him at Hohenems may be able to help
you, but I warn you, they are mercenary and you will have to pay dearly for
anything they do. And general, I wouldn't put a lot of trust in them if I were
you."
Their business concluded, Templeton stood and headed for the
door. He paused with his hand on the knob and turned back to Waldman. "I
hope we will see each other one more time, at Altstatten." Then he was
gone, walking down to the third floor and ringing for the elevator.
* *
The next morning Allen Dulles was at his usual morning briefing
with his aide who kept him apprised of incoming communications, signal
intelligence as well as notes, inquiries and reports from OSS Caserta, and
reports from his own staff. Dulles closed a folder and handed it back to Bill.
"Tell them that we have no information on the woman they mentioned, but I
will make a few inquiries. That should be it for today except for the issues
surrounding our two generals, or should I say 'one general'? Anything come in
today?"
Bill referred to several pieces of paper he withdrew from a
sealed manila folder. "Preliminary word on Templeton's finances is that
there's nothing irregular, no unusual deposits in any of his accounts and no
significant debt. They say a more complete exam will be done; details to
follow. Mallory, on the other hand, is up to his ears in debt, and it seems to
be common knowledge that his wife's unhappy having to live with her parents
because Kent can't afford the digs she wants."