After a month it was easier. There were even times when Lena felt justified in her behavior. She had found a way to strike back at the events that had defined her life. She was no longer at the whim of fate. She was taking action. In control. She enjoyed the money, too. In fact, taking money from the Nazis gave her a perverse sense of satisfaction. She bought new clothes for herself and Max, and put a new sofa and easy chair for the living room on layaway.
One morning she wore a new navy blue dress with white polka dots and a huge bow to work. When Sonia caught sight of her, she whistled. “Well hi-de-ho! Aren’t you the pretty picture!” She cocked her head. “You have a new boyfriend or something?”
Lena felt her cheeks get hot. “Of course not. It has only been six months since Karl died.”
Sonia looked her over. “Well then, I guess I’d better ask Compton for the same raise you got,” she said.
Lena made a mental note not to wear new clothes to the office again. And although part of her was secretly proud of her newfound ability to provide for herself and Max, part of her, too, was ashamed at the source of the money.
The worst times were when she ran into Compton. Her pulse would speed up, her cheeks grew hot. She was sure he could see straight through her, and was waiting to confront her. She imagined what Hester Prynne must have felt like wearing that scarlet letter across her chest. On those days she’d rush home from work, clasp Max in her arms, and cry.
* * *
Hans didn’t signal for a meeting until June. She was on her way to work, the morning bright and full of the promise of summer. June usually reminded Lena of her wedding day, but today, tears didn’t spring to her eyes. Indeed, this was new, this sense of satisfaction. Was this what it was like to feel like she belonged? To own a tiny piece of the American dream? Despite the war, despite what was happening in Europe, despite everything, she had resources. Perhaps she could look the other way, pretend the nefarious work she was doing didn’t exist.
She was so wrapped up in this new thought, turning it this way and that in her mind, that she almost missed the orange peel on the corner of 57th and Kimbark. As soon as she spotted it, she squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t pretend. As much as she wanted to imagine, this wasn’t make-believe.
At lunch she told Sonia she was going out for a walk and headed towards the Museum of Science and Industry. She wandered around the main floor, admiring the high ceilings and massive columns of the former Palace of Fine Arts. Julius Rosenwald, the chairman of Sears, Roebuck and Company, got the idea for the museum after visiting a similar place in Munich thirty years earlier with his son. The Rosenwalds held a special place in Lena’s heart. Rosenwald’s son, William, organized an effort in the mid-1930s to help Jews in Nazi Germany emigrate to the US. Some people did do the right thing, she mused. Of course, they had the money and means.
She was thinking about how life could surprise you with its decency when Hans appeared at her side. He took her arm, as if they were lovers about to steal a precious hour together. They strolled to an area where workmen were building a miniature train and village that would fill an entire wing. The exhibit was to open at Christmas.
“You are well, Lena?” Hans asked.
“Very. And you?” She answered cautiously.
“I am fine.” A small smile crossed his face. “So. We have a new priority for you.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“We know that American scientists are trying to build chain-reacting ‘Piles’ to produce plutonium, and then extract it from the irradiated uranium so they can build an atomic bomb. We want you to focus on the Pile and the tests that are planned in it.”
She tried to hide her surprise. “How do you know this?”
“Come, Lena. You must realize you are not our only asset.” He laughed. “Although you are certainly the most attractive.”
Lena blew out a breath.
“We know that a group headed by Compton’s chief engineer, Thomas Moore, began designing the Pile under the west stands of Stagg Field.”
“Tell me, Hans, who is ‘we’? Haven’t I proven myself enough to tell me about the others in your group?”
Hans raised a finger to his lips. “We need the plans for the Pile.”
She hesitated. Then, “I know I have made a pact with the devil, but I need more specifics. It will help me tailor what I give you.”
“Lena, let’s keep to the subject at hand. We need to find out how they are building the Pile.”
“But that is impossible. I am not allowed anywhere near it.”
“There must be a blueprint.”
“If there is, neither Sonia nor I have high enough clearances to see it.”
“Then you’ll have to think of a way to get the information.”
“How? I can’t break in. There are guards there all night.”
Hans clasped his free hand over hers. “You’re a resourceful woman. You will find a way.”