Collins 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.”