22

The German Foreign Office had made two choices: first of all, they intended to begin unrestricted submarine warfare on February 1. Yet officially they still hoped to keep the United States neutral. In the event that was impossible, they intended to seek out the Mexican President for an alliance under the terms that Germany would give general financial support, and the promise that Mexico would reconquer lost territory in Mexico, Arizona, and Texas.

Further, the President of Mexico was to be encouraged to communicate with Japan regarding a triple alliance among the countries.

“Reconquer part of the United States—are they serious?” I squealed.

“They’re not playing tiddlywinks.”

“And Japan—where does it come in?”

“Your ‘third party.’ We assumed they referred to a person.”

“How did you get this information?”

“A cable from Zimmermann, transmitted in code to the German ambassador at Washington, for forwarding to von Eckhardt in Mexico, was discovered and deciphered by the British. There is only one reason for you and me to be in on this little surprise. We have to find out if Tetzel plays a part in it.

“I’ve checked the telegraph office. There have been no wires sent by him, or received lately. What do you find?”

“Nothing. Except, he’s trying to sell the bank.”

“Keep a close watch. It looks as though Tetzel is possibly being kicked … out.”

“Why do you think Tetzel was so against Japan?”

“Exactly the reasons he named. They’re as fickle as a southern belle, although they’ve been disgruntled with the United States since the trouble out in California, and that leads some of the Germans to think they might be willing to side with them.”

“But not Tetzel.”

“Right; anyhow, they’re not industrialized enough to be of much help as an ally.”

“‘Industry,’” I repeated. “We always thought it referred to a personal trait.”

“Just goes to show you the power of words.”

“Do you think they shoved him out because of that quibble?”

“More than likely it was just so much political backbiting. In my opinion Tetzel is smarter than the rest of ’em.”

“They’re also going against his wishes in dealing with Carranza.”

“They’re selling arms to Carranza now, and dispatching German and Austrian reservists below the border.”

“Does that mean he’s co-operating?”

“No. It just means they’re confident he will.”

“Golly.”

“Oh yes, I’ve got something for you from someone high up in the organization.” He felt around in his pockets, then brought out a small envelope from one and stuffed it in my hand. When he was gone I opened it up to find fifteen dollars.

We had both been mistaken that Tetzel’s corner of the triangle had been chopped off, however, as we soon found out. Though no copy of the wire for von Eckhardt followed from the German Foreign Office to Tetzel, there came a brief wire dispatching Tetzel to Mexico City for a meeting with von Eckhardt. On the morning of January 25, the day which marked the beginning of Pershing’s troop withdrawal from Mexico, he walked in brusquely and said, “I have to leave town on business today … I should be back by late next week.”

“Anything you’ll need to take along?” I asked.

“No. I believe I have everything I need. If I should receive a call from a James Parker, tell him I’ll return it next week.”

I’d overheard the name Parker during the meeting so recently conducted about the sale of the bank. Mr. Tetzel looked tired and drawn that morning. I offered to bring him a cup of coffee, and he gave me a sort of wistful smile—or so it seemed to me—and said, “You take such good care of me, Camille.” I knew it was not right to feel sorry for him, yet I did.

He returned right on schedule the following week, and Allan in the telegraph office reported that on the day of Tetzel’s return, he promptly sent a wire to Mortimer Krantz in the Foreign Office. “I believe I have persuaded V.E. to hold off a bit longer on that which concerns us. However, there is of course nothing that can be done about the other. The edict has been signed.” Tetzel’s spirits were undeniably brighter.

“So he’s still in the game,” I told Edwin. “You know, when I think of the times I’ve wondered why you didn’t just round up the evidence and pick him up, I feel ridiculous.”

“Yes … the plot is gettin’ thicker than molasses.”

“And the German Government has no idea the secret’s already out.”

“The decoded message from Zimmermann is sitting on President Wilson’s desk, like a death warrant.”

“While they continue talking ‘officially’ about peace terms.”

On the thirty-first of January, Wilson was handed Germany’s official announcement of their intention to conduct unrestricted submarine warfare, briefly stating that since their efforts at peace had been declined by the Allies, they would establish a U-Boat blockade along a line twenty miles from the coasts of Allied countries across which no one would pass, in order to bring an end to the war by the use of a “starvation blockade” of England.

Their only concession to us was the permission of one ship per week to pass unharmed between Falmouth, England, and the United States, plus the guaranteed safety of our ships already en route from neutral to Allied countries.

Wilson immediately broke off diplomatic relations with Germany, sent the German ambassador his passport to go home, and ordered our ambassador, Gerard, to return from Germany to this country. Still, the public did not know about Zimmermann’s telegram, and many people wondered why the President took such drastic steps over what surely was an understandable measure on the part of Germany. People in the office chatted incessantly about the prospects of going to war, their views toward President Wilson’s action divided almost equally. I stayed out of the conversations altogether, pretending to be terribly busy.

News releases began appearing in the papers from Zimmermann himself, expressing surprise at our reaction to the “starvation blockade,” not knowing that the telegram over his signature, proving his country’s betrayal of us, had been unmasked a couple of weeks earlier.

Tetzel went about his work much as usual, except that he did begin sifting through old mail and directing memos to be sent now and then. He held another meeting with the men interested in buying the bank, and from this meeting I got clear indications he was holding out for a higher price, stock options less attractive than cold cash. I believe he was trying to appear to be a hard bargainer. Should he rush through too quickly, he might arouse suspicion at such unorthodox terms. He wanted to work them into a corner where they would be obliged to come to his terms, before time ran out and he was forced to disclose his impatience at ridding himself of the bank so he could flee the country with his pockets full. I am sure this was why he began negotiations so many months in advance.

On the evening of Monday, February 5, Edwin contacted me. Another telegram for Tetzel had been picked up: “Come at once,” from someone at the German Embassy in Mexico City called “Toto.” Neither of us knew the reason for the sudden summons, and doubtless Tetzel was puzzled by it, too. He phoned the office Tuesday morning to tell me he had to leave town again, with obvious irritation in his voice, and he said he would be back by the first of next week.

When he returned there began a series of events that were as quick and irreversible as the spark on the fuse of a powder keg.