The following morning ushered in a crisp fall day, the kind that evoked thoughts of a sweet new year filled with apples and honey. The High Holidays had come and gone—they’d been early this year—but the swirl of scarlet, yellow, and orange leaves outside was a reminder of the season. Lena gave Max extra hugs before leaving for work.
She was under strict instructions not to tell Hans or Collins about her conversation with Lanier. He had come over after she called, and sat, ironically, in the same spot on the sofa as Collins. She told him everything. Then they discussed her options.
“I want you to work for us.”
“Us?”
“The United States.”
“I thought I already was. Through Collins.”
“We haven’t been able to pin him down. He may be a rogue agent, working for himself because he wasn’t formally assigned to Manhattan. Or maybe he’s something else. We just don’t know.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Essentially, we want you to mix up your intel. Put misleading information in some of the documents you pass to Hans. Collins too. Things that either mean nothing or are outright lies.”
Lena bit her lip, thinking back to the sketch of the Pile she’d altered. She told Lanier about it.
“Exactly. Good work. That’s what we want.”
“But how? How will I figure out what is meaningful and what isn’t?”
“I’ll let you know. I’ll take a look at everything you’re planning to pass. A day won’t make much difference. You’ll have to make sure I get a copy of everything before you send it on.”
“How will I get it to you?”
“How do you do it now?”
She told him.
He nodded. “We’ll set up our own dead drop.”
She ran a hand through her hair. “What happens when they realize the documents have been adulterated?”
“They won’t,” he paused, “if you’re careful. Remember, you’re going to be passing them genuine intel also.”
“To Collins too, you say?”
Lanier nodded. “At this point, it’s better to be safe than sorry, don’t you agree?”
Lena didn’t reply.
“Hey. I’m gonna do my best to back you up. You’re working for the good guys now.”
Skeptical, she flashed him a look.
“Okay.” He shifted. She could smell his aftershave. “Now, let’s talk about tomorrow.”
* * *
Lena had two tasks. One, she was to tell Hans that Irving was now suspected of spying himself, and it was her fault. She would ask Hans what he could do to manage the situation. She would also talk about winding down her work. She would tell him she was prepared for the consequences, but she had to be honest; she was slowly going mad with guilt. Two, she would tell Irving about Collins’ visit. He deserved to know he was under surveillance, she would say. Perhaps together they could come up with a solution to the Colonel’s scheming.
She wanted to talk to Irving right away, but she had to wait; he usually dropped by around lunchtime. Today, though, lunchtime came and went without him. Lena asked Sonia if she’d seen him. Sonia shook her head.
“But I have something to tell you.”
Lena felt her stomach twist.
“I finally heard from Frank,” Sonia grinned. “He’s all right. He’ll be coming home in a couple of months.” Sonia’s husband had been drafted and fought the Battle of Midway over the summer, but Sonia hadn’t heard from him in weeks.
A wave of relief so profound it came out as a gasp swept over Lena. “That’s wonderful, Sonia. Congratulations!” She pasted on a smile and hoped it looked genuine.
“There’s something else.” Sonia tilted her head. “Once he’s home, I—I won’t be coming back.”
“Oh, no.” Lena realized she had become fond of the girl. Not to mention that whoever replaced her might be a plant. She squeezed her eyes shut. She despised having to think this way.
“I am not as dedicated as you, Lena,” Sonia added. “I could never spend all the time at work that you do.” Dedicated? Is that what Sonia thought? Lena bit back a reply. She didn’t want to spoil Sonia’s joy.
* * *
Lena went to a pay phone after lunch and made a call.
“Where have you been, Irving? I’ve been so worried.”
“I was fired.”
“What? Why?”
“Collins knows I was in the Pile when I wasn’t supposed to be. The guard told him he heard two people. He didn’t know the other, but he thought it was a woman. Collins thinks I’m a spy. He says he’ll keep it under wraps if I go quietly.”
“That’s impossible. A spy? For whom?” Lena asked. She couldn’t help wondering whether Collins knew the truth about her. Had he put the pieces together? Had his night visit been nothing but a ruse after all?
“For the Communists.”
“The Communists? Wherever would he get that idea?” Inwardly, though, she let out a breath. She’d been handed a reprieve. Collins wasn’t focusing on Nazi espionage. But her relief soon turned into self-loathing. How could she be thankful that the Nazis were off the hook?
“Irving?” There was no response. “Irving, we need to talk. This is all my fault.”
Silence on his end. He wasn’t disagreeing.
“Irving,” she said, “I’m going to tell Collins I was the one who wanted to go in. If anything, I should be the one who’s fired.”
This time he answered. “No. There’s no sense both of us suffering.”
She hoped he’d say that. “But I can’t let you take the blame when it was my idea.” She pondered whether there really was any way to salvage the situation. Could she actually try to convince Collins that Irving was innocent? That it had been just an adventure? No. He’d never believe her. He’d either think she was defending Irving, or he’d focus his suspicions on her. He probably had already. Then again, what did it matter? It was just a matter of time until she was exposed by Hans, Collins, perhaps even Lanier.
“No.” Irving was firm. “You can’t lose your job. I know how much you depend on it.” He paused. “But I do have a question. Why did you want to see the Pile so badly? Is there something I should know?”
Mein Gott. Lena stared at a sign for the dry cleaners across the street, but all she saw was a blurry mass of letters. She must not be a very good spy if her supposed boyfriend distrusted her. She wanted to melt into the ground, like that witch in the movie about Dorothy and the Wizard. She answered carefully.
“Irving, you know me. What do you think?”
A long pause followed. Then, “I’m sorry, Lena. It’s just this—all of this—is so alien to my whole being. My parents said I could move back in with them. But how can I? It—it would be admitting failure. If I can’t work at Met Lab, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“You are not a spy, Irving. We both know it.” She continued in a rush, grasping for something to say. “For all we know, Collins may be anti-Semitic. It wouldn’t be surprising.”
He sighed. “Anti-Jew Pro-Jew, who cares? It could be anyone… Sonia… you… me… even Compton, for Christ’s sake. A cloud of suspicion can fall on anyone these days.”
“Irving, stop!” What had she done to this wonderful young man? He was a shadow of what he had once been. A despondent, sad shadow. And it was her doing.
“Lena, I want to see you tonight. Please. Can I come over?”
She covered her eyes with one hand. She was meeting Hans that evening. She couldn’t risk the two running into each other. She was just about to suggest the next night instead when he cut in.
“I understand.” He’d mistaken the silence as her answer. “Goodbye, Lena.”
“No, wait, Irving. That’s not—”
But he’d hung up.