The telephone call came after Lanier left but before the police detective arrived. Lena had just finished cleaning up the broken glass, and the ring startled her. She raced to the phone, then hesitated. Why now? Who knew she would be alone at this precise moment?
“I assume the detective has left.” It was a gruff male voice, but it was muffled as if he was speaking through a towel or blanket.
“Who is this?”
“Someone you want to talk to. Is the baby sitter gone?”
Mrs. M, still hysterical, had gone up to her apartment to try and calm down.
Someone had been watching her apartment. Lena started to tremble. “I—I’m alone.” She stammered.
“Good. We have Max. He’s fine. And we want to bring him back.”
“Thank god. Please bring him right away.”
“We will. But we want something in return.”
Her stomach twisted. She bit her lip. “I have no money.”
There was a laugh on the other end of the line. A laugh! “We know. In fact, we will help you change that.”
“What—what are you saying?”
“We want to reimburse you for your pain and suffering. God knows you’ve had your share.”
“How do you know that? Who are you? I want my son!”
“You will get him. But you must agree to our proposition.”
“What proposition?”
“A man will be coming to your home in a few minutes. He will be wearing a policeman’s uniform. But he is not an officer. You will let him in. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but—”
“Once you have agreed to the proposition, Max will be returned.”
“Tonight? You’ll bring him back tonight?”
“Yes. We have not harmed him. And we don’t want to.”
“What if I cannot accept the proposition? What if I refuse?”
“That would not be a good idea, Lena. For you or Max.”
* * *
The man to whom Lena opened the door was unremarkable in every way. Average height, average weight, average thinning brown hair. Horn-rimmed glasses. His only distinguishing feature was a pair of oversized ears. Dressed in a cop’s uniform, he had a badge pinned to his chest. If she’d been asked to describe him later, she wouldn’t have been able to provide much.
He deposited himself on the sofa where she’d been sitting just a few minutes earlier. She picked up the baby blanket she’d been holding to remind her of Max’s smell, and sat in the chair.
“Is Max all right? What have you done with him?”
He cleared his throat. “He is fine. But I only have a few minutes, Frau Stern, so here’s what we want.” He paused. “Information.” He spoke with an unmistakable accent. It was German. From the South. Probably Bavaria. Reinhard, Ursula’s husband, had a similar accent, and he was from Regensburg.
She folded her arms. “What information?” she said in German.
His eyes narrowed for a quick moment, and she saw in his expression that under the right circumstances he was probably capable of enormous cruelty. Despite the heat in the apartment, she shivered again. He must have realized his effect on her, because he unexpectedly bared his teeth in what she supposed was a smile.
“Information you come by on a daily basis.” He answered in English.
She didn’t reply at first. She was trying to process why he hadn’t answered in German. Then she cast the thought aside. If that’s what he wanted to do, what choice did she have? She wanted her son. “So you want me to spy at my job,” she said in English.
The smile that wasn’t really a smile widened. “They said you were a quick study.”
“Who are you working for?” She asked, although she really didn’t need to. It was clear. “You want me to spy for the Nazis?”
He didn’t confirm it but didn’t disagree.
“Why would I ever do that? After what you—they did to me? To my family? To my life? I’d rather die than help those—you monsters.”
He nodded, as if he wasn’t surprised at her reaction. “I understand. But there is really only one point to consider. If you do not comply, you will never see your son again.”
She stared at the man, then let her head sink into her hands. The tears that refused to come earlier now welled. Her life consisted of a series of events she could not control. Now there was one more.
The fake cop cleared his throat. “Frau Stern, we do not have much time. Another police officer will arrive soon.”
Once more she was trapped. She had to play along. She breathed in the scent of the blanket. Without Max, life was not worth living. She hoped God would forgive her. Then she scoffed at the thought. There was no God. At least for her. That was abundantly clear. She looked over, blinking through her tears.
“What is it you want me to do?”
“We want you to bring us whatever you come across in your daily work. Letters, files, theoretical analyses, observations. Photos of the Lab, if you can. It is clear America is committed to building an atomic weapon, and we know there are several paths to that end. We know Chicago is working on one option. We need to know what your scientists know. As soon as they know it. You will provide it.”
“But what happens if they find out?” She repeated. “Will you help me escape? Find someplace for Max and me to disappear to?”
The man cleared his throat. “We understand this will not be easy. Or risk free. It is quite possible someone at some point will suspect what you are doing.”
The answer was no, she thought. They would do nothing if she was unmasked. She was on her own.
“That is why we are willing to compensate you. Generously,” he went on. “We will pay you two hundred dollars a month.”
Her mouth opened. It was a fortune. Her money problems would disappear. “We know you have had financial problems since the untimely death of your husband.”
Untimely? What did that mean, “untimely”? She peered at him, but his expression remained flat. Then he cocked his head.
“A word of warning, Lena. Do not think you can get away from us. We are watching you. We know every step that you take. Once you start down this road, there is no going back.”
Lena hated this man and his words. But she couldn’t go to the authorities. She was a German herself. A refugee. And although she was now a U.S. citizen, every German was suspect these days. They might even decide she was already spying. Then what would happen to her and Max? She couldn’t risk it. She was trapped.
The man looked at his watch. “I must leave.” He cleared his throat. “But there is one other matter. You will need to learn tradecraft.”
“What does that mean, tradecraft?”
“There are many ways to retrieve and exchange information. You will learn the basic techniques. I will teach you.”
“You’re going to teach me how to be a spy!”
“I wouldn’t call it that.”
“What would you call it?” She knew she sounded irritated. She wanted him to get that.
“Methods to manage your risk. And ours.” He hesitated. “So. What is your answer?”
She stared and took a deep breath, hoping it would make him uncomfortable. “You give me no choice.”
The man pulled out an envelope from his jacket pocket. He opened it and counted out ten twenty dollar bills which he laid on the coffee table.
Her mouth fell open again.
“You need not see me out. We start training tomorrow. You will find a note in your mailbox with the meeting time and location.”
Lena picked up the money. “Since we are to be working together, what is your name?”
“You may call me Hans.”
She nodded. “What about Max, Hans? ”
He rose from the sofa. “Your son will be dropped off shortly.”
The promise was kept. Ten minutes later, the buzzer rang. Lena raced down the steps. As she opened the front door, a car pulled away, leaving Max standing on the curb. He held a balloon in one hand, and a small cherry lollypop in the other. His lips were stained red, as if he’d been sucking on it for hours.
“Hello, Mama.” He grinned.
She closed her arms around him.