Keeping Secrets (40 page)

“Not if it means they can keep trouble stirred up by continuing.”

“I don't understand why the United States can't pluck out everybody concerned. All you have to do is pick up a newspaper to read of German plots being uncovered all the time.”

“Because they have no proof of anything, yet. What we know and what we can document are as far apart as one end of Texas from the other.”

I told him then about my guarded advice from Electra. He paused, considering, then said, “I wish we could get something on her background. She may be in deeper than we think. That post-office routine is especially interesting. Next time you see her, ask about her maiden name and her former married name if you can. We haven't been able to turn up anything so far on either of the Cabots before they got to San Antonio.

“In the meantime, beware of men who pay you too much attention.”

I looked across at his profile. He was smiling.

Next morning a mullet delivered a tin box with my name on it, full of shelled pecans from Electra Cabot. “Oh, fudge!” I said, dismayed again at the fact the people I was after made me feel awful by being so nice.

Giddy, who was standing by, said, “Excellent idea. I have a marvelous recipe passed down from my mother.”

“What?”

“For fudge, of course, with lots of pecans. Delicious!”

Bewildering, how weeks would pass when nothing would turn up, then suddenly, just as light gleams at the end of a tunnel at last, so would come another smattering of puzzle pieces into our laps.

In December the German agents Boy-Ed and von Papen were recalled to their homeland, leaving only von Bernstorff, the German ambassador, in the States. From what Edwin told me they'd gotten pretty sloppy in their plotting in this country, probably because they were so tied up in internal conflicts, and they became an embarrassment to the German high command. I attached no particular significance to this until late in the month, when Cabot returned and met with Tetzel.

I stationed myself in the storeroom to listen in. Cabot apparently wasn't feeling very well. He kept pacing back and forth, complaining of his aching head and limbs. “I was afraid Barrista might buckle under once the United States recognized Carranza, but I think I've got him talked into holding on.”

“Good.”

“He still wants to go in peacefully, by a vote, if possible.”

“That's all right … if it can be done.”

“Just in case it doesn't work out that way, I'm going to lay out some plans for taking up arms. And I'll need to collect hospital supplies, as well as weapons.”

“You know we are stockpiling arms. You can purchase hospital supplies under one of your company names. Here's the address of a firm in Corpus that can be trusted to remain discreet. How much money will you need—five, ten?”

“Make it ten. Oh yes, and there's another matter, too. That damned push for national prohibition. I'm going to have to pour more money toward the antis, although I think it's going down a dry hole.”

“I think you're playing a losing game for time, Cabot. Why don't you just sell out now, and take the loss? I can lend you more if you need it, when the properties you're looking at down there become available.”

“We've sure as hell got to get rid of Carranza. He's never going to honor those land titles from Villa, and he controls most of the north now. My production's almost at a standstill.”

“That's all right for now.”

There was a pause then and Cabot finally added, “Your patience is to be admired. I wish I had some of it.”

“Recent developments have lessened my worries somewhat. There's no need to rush. If we do, plans go awry. Take time and care, everything will work out perfectly.”

“I gotta get home. My head's killing me.”

“Take care of yourself. You might have picked up something down there, eh? Perhaps you behaved badly?”

A silence followed, then Cabot replied, “Hell, I wouldn't touch any of those broads down there. I've just got a fever or something.”

Again, I thought with satisfaction of his devotion to Electra.

Just after he left, Mr. Tetzel locked his door for an hour. When he came out he laid some sealed envelopes on my desk. It was still plenty early for the mail pickup, but I intercepted the envelopes anyway, as I often did, a least until I had a chance to look over their contents. One of them was addressed to the New York contact. I slipped it into my drawer.

When I steamed it open that night I found a brief note inside: “All plans go forward in Mexico. Now that I have more control over business at hand, I am certain we can realize our aims. I trust B. and V. will have a more successful journey home than V.R.”

Lots of things came together then. There was no doubt to whom B. and V. referred, and V.R.—von Rintelen, had been picked up recently, carrying a fake passport in Switzerland. He'd been taken by the British to a prison of war. Apparently Tetzel had long hoped for a situation like this, putting him more in control. Add those facts to his vagueness with Cabot and it seemed a fair chance even Cabot did not know the full extent of the puppet strings manipulated by him.

There were new questions surfacing all the time. Had Tetzel been responsible for scuttling Boy-Ed and von Papen? Was he continuing to finance Pancho Villa—now labeled an outlaw as he battled Carrancista forces—only until Barrista was ready to step in? Or did he intend to double-cross Barrista in the end, keeping his little embryonic revolution on tap until such time as Villa forces whipped Carranza and more trouble was needed to keep the United States busy?

Did Villa know of Barrista and co-operate in the whole plot? In the end, would they join in dual control? I had read that Pancho Villa wanted a civil government. Was the idea that Barrista would head the nation while Villa led the armed forces?

Was the whole thing a complicated game for just one purpose: keeping the United States out of the war by continually stirring up trouble? If so, who knew the full truth, and what was in it for Tetzel?

That is what I wondered most of all. What could he possibly gain that would be worth the risk of losing everything he had so carefully and wisely built here? If the Germans won the war, it would be the generals and the monarchy who took the spoils, not the lowly espionage leaders whose dirty activities were best swept under the rug.

The more I thought about it the more I wondered who was deceiving whom, and the more I feared we were all being pulled under by a current stronger than we could fight.

14

I had not seen Keith since the night of the Tetzel party, when I rushed by, leaving him with his gift of fresh peaches in my doorway. I had never thanked him properly or apologized for my rudeness, although I'd consumed the sweet and succulent fruit with all the abandon of a drinking man who opens his first bottle of whiskey after a long ride on the wagon.

Every time I went into the store he was either busy checking stock or carving a piece of meat for a customer, or out on a delivery. When the holiday season rolled around and the pace slowed down at the bank, everyone infected by the spirit of peace and thanksgiving in one way or another, I thought of Keith a lot. His family would all be together on the important days, while I'd be alone unless Mother surprised me with a visit. She had been campaigning hard in New Jersey, where, in spite of the endorsement by the President, the women's vote lost. Next week she would be back in Washington for a big protest meeting of some kind, which she didn't take time to detail in her letter. It seemed doubtful she would come all the way down to San Antonio in between.

I'd taken an early job of writing up orders for signature handkerchiefs at Washer Bros., and would begin late in December at Joske's, this year as a clerk instead of a wrapper. I supposed I'd just get lost in extra jobs and let the season slide by as painlessly as possible, and considered asking Giddy what her plans were for Christmas day, in case she might be alone, too.

Yet Keith came by one evening unexpectedly and said, “Mother asked me to invite you for Christmas dinner at Christie and Ken's. I told her I figured you'd have other plans, but I'd see.” He addressed me from the stair landing, having walked back there after knocking on the door.

“Oh no. I'd love to come,” I said, so eagerly that Keith's eyes widened. He moved closer to my door. “I haven't seen your family for such a long time … it sounds like great fun.”

“Won't you be seeing that other guy?”

“What other guy?”

“The one you have lunch with all the time, down by the river.”

“Oh, him … uh, he works for an important bank customer and I have to be nice to him, that's all. It isn't what you think.”

“Seems I've heard that one before.”

“Well, just what are you doing spying on me?”

“I'm not. I happened to see you there a couple of times, on my way somewhere. Say, have you seen
Birth of a Nation
yet? Everybody's talking about it.”

“No, and I'd love to go if you want to. Just name the date.”

“How about tomorrow night?”

I was supposed to see Edwin, which caused me to hesitate momentarily, then I made up my mind and said, “What time will you come by for me?”

Next morning I called Edwin and told him I had other plans. “I have a friend who's beginning to suspect something is going on because I have to say no to him nearly every time he invites me out. Don't you think I'd better say yes?”

“Probably so. But lets make it lunch the following day.”

“All right. The weather's gotten too cool to try and spirit Nathan out very often.”

“Did you get a former name on that Cabot woman?”

“Yes. It's Dexter. That's all I could find out.”

“Who gave it to you?”

“Nathan.”

“That might not be for real.”

“Well it was the best I could do,” I said, irritated. “Look, you want me to be nosing around all the time without looking suspicious. There are only certain natural ways to get into conversations that personal. I have to use them.”

“Right. See 'ya. Tomorrow, in front of Duerler's Candy.”

When we met, Edwin had some new developments to discuss. He'd put a check on the name Dexter in Denver, which might take months to track down, especially in the absence of any first name, and he had also found out that Fernando Barrista's daughter, Aegina, was right here in the city attending school. “Nine to one, she's also busy working on the revolution. She's enrolled in Sacred Heart Liberal Arts College up north of town, taking advanced courses in languages and education.”

“Oh, swell. What do I do now, quit my job and enroll in college?”

“No. We have a person on the staff here in the school office. His code name is Hubert. He's going to check on her. I've already had him working on Stuttgart Printing, and he has found some invoices from a small city in France on Stuttgart's desk. We're investigating them.”

“How many people do you have working in San Antonio?”

“Just the three of us, plus Sam the printer. Well, if that's all—”

“Incidentally, my rent's going up in January—five dollars more a month. I got a notice this morning.”

“I'll see what I can do. Maybe you could find another place.”

“From what I hear others say, it's still cheaper than most apartments in the area.”

“You better stay there, then. If you get short, holler.”

“My Christmas job pays more this year because I'll be clerking. Maybe I can find something else after that.”

“No, you won't have time to do any shadowing if you have too many jobs.”

The President was making his tour around the country, speaking on national defense, increasing the army strength and spending millions on new equipment and ammunition. When I mentioned the subject to Nathan it proved to be another touchy spot with him. “I think it's time and money foolishly spent,” he said.

“But what if we're drawn into the war in Europe? Between the British interfering so much with our shipping, and the Germans bombing first and asking questions later, it looks to me as though we ought to be prepared.”

“We've stayed out this long. Who'd be left to mediate if we had to go in?”

If the Germans have their way, probably Mexico, I thought.

“That's a good point,” I said. “Who do you think will win?”

“Who cares?”

His face was growing redder, but I couldn't figure exactly why he was so bothered, unless both he and Cabot were involved in Tetzel's intrigue with the German Foreign Office, which would instantly label them as traitors if we went to war. So far the facts I'd learned didn't add up to that. There was a prolonged silence. Finally I said, “What does Mr. Cabot think? I always believe good businessmen have wise opin—”

“What does he know?” Nathan snapped back, and glared at me.

“I suppose so … well, I hope we don't get into the war. I'd sure miss you if you had to go off soldiering.”

That did it. He was on his feet at once. “You silly little brat! What do you know about important matters of the world, always putting in your two cents' worth where it doesn't concern you?”

“Gosh, I didn't mean to make you angry.”

“I'm not angry, why should I be? I've got to get back to work. You waste more time than a gossippy old woman,” he stated, then stalked off. If I could just get at the bottom of what's nagging him, it would be worth all the trouble I've gone to, just satisfying my curiosity at last, I thought.

It was the sort of conversation that characterized the whole end of the year—a time of loose ends that continued to wind like spaghetti around a fork. At Christmas dinner in 1915, Keith's father offered a lengthy blessing before the sumptuous feast in front of us, thanking the Lord for keeping us out of the war and praying for His guiding hand on our government's shoulder. After dinner Keith and Ken occupied the floor with talk of aeronautics, especially what they knew of the Royal Flying Corps' deeds in Europe, and Keith's every phrase made it more obvious that he was bursting at the seams to get over there in the midst of it. I noticed his father smoking his pipe, watching Keith with a father's special kind of seasoned expression, and wondered whether there would be another Christmas when we'd all sit around, stuffed fuller than the Christmas turkey, and talk academically of the war that already involved us much more dangerously than any of the Butlers were aware.