by Abigail Keam
Mona noticed that Scott and Donovan looked uncomfortable.
“Who is he?” LaMour asked.
“Alburn Bower was a jazz lover whose alias was Otto Mueller.”
Nasha Martin gasped. “Otto died on the SS Cathay. He was drunk and fell overboard. That’s what I was told.” She gave Scott a heated stare.
Mona shook her head. “No, Nasha. That’s not how he died. Otto Mueller was a translator working at the German Embassy. He had access to cables, letters, and telegrams coming into the German Embassy. He disliked the Nazi party and was selling their secrets to the Swedish government. That’s where Lars Dardel comes in. Lars was a Nazi collaborator and sympathizer. He knew that Mueller was carrying papers that were potential dynamite. If Lars could get those papers, he could prove to Ambassador Boström that Germany has plans to aggressively build their military back up and ignore the Treaty of Versailles.”
Alice said, “Why would Lars Dardel pursue exposing that information if he was pro-Nazi? The Swedes are neutral.”
“Are they? Officially yes, but I think they are waiting to see which way the wind blows,” Mona said.
“He lied to me,” Miss Martin said. “He didn’t even tell me his real name.”
“I think this Otto Mueller did love jazz and thought you were a great talent, but he used the club as a venue to dispense information about the Nazis.”
Martin asked, “How did Otto really die?”
“He was shot to death by a British agent, who also had heard rumors about these papers. Great Britain has long thought Hitler was lying when he said he wants peace. They had to be sure, so they sent this agent.”
“What’s this man’s name?”
“I don’t know,” Mona lied. “But Mr. Mueller caught the agent in his room, and there was a tussle. That’s when he was shot.”
“Will this agent be arrested for murder?”
“I’m sorry, Nasha, but this agent was from MI6. There will be no arrest.”
“I have no idea what MI6 is.”
Donovan interrupted, “You’re better off then, Miss Martin. You have a bright future ahead of you. Forget about this Alburn Bower, known to you as Otto Mueller. That man was not worth your time.”
“Seems to me Otto was trying to do the right thing. He wanted to expose the rearmament.” Nasha Martin turned to Ambassador Lindsay. “Did you give the orders to have my Otto murdered?”
“No, my dear, but I did know of sensitive information leaking from the German Embassy. We were actively pursuing who the source was. And so were the Germans.”
“And there might be leaks in our embassy as well. We lost an important file,” Lady Lindsay said, giving Mona a conspiratorial glance.
“Hush, Elizabeth,” Ronald admonished.
“We’re getting off track here,” Mona said.
Mrs. Dardel said to Mona, “So, Lars’ politics were to the far-right. Lots of people have faith in Hitler. He’s exciting, dynamic. He stirs the blood. The world needs a new strong man with fresh ideas. I still don’t see how all of this helps my poor Lars. You have said yourself that Lars did not obtain those papers. Sounds like he was nowhere near this Otto or Alburn, whatever you want to call him, when murdered.”
“There are many moving threads that I’m trying to weave together, Mrs. Dardel. Please be patient.”
“Go on then.”
“After your husband’s death, I was visited by Abraham Scott, who claimed he worked for President Roosevelt. He was a little vague on what he did, how, or why, but he made life miserable for me. He said he was acting on President Roosevelt’s orders and that he wanted me to spy for the United States government. He said he was acting as a liaison for you, Mr. Donovan.”
“Is that so?” Donovan said, turning his attention to Scott.
Furious, Scott said, “You’re not supposed to expose me like this. This might be considered treason.”
Mona laughed. “Oh, Scott, you are such a fake, but I do admire your chutzpah.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not only do you not work for President Roosevelt, you’re not even an American.”
Scott looked cagily around the room, looking for an avenue of escape. “I have no idea of what you mean.” He pointed a finger at Mona. “You’re one crazy dame making ridiculous accusations like that. I am American as apple pie.”
Mona explained, “American men use one utensil when they eat—usually a fork. You eat the continental way of using a fork turned upside down accompanied by a knife. Then there’s the way you sit. American men spread their legs apart. I know it’s a vulgar habit, but it’s how they sit. European men keep their legs together and often cross their legs at the knees while sitting, like you are now.”
Scott hastily uncrossed his legs. “Many Yanks eat the European way.”
Alice stepped in. “Most Americans do not. You see, after the War of Independence from Great Britain, Americans wanted to do things differently from the old British customs—like driving on the left side of the road, horse racing clockwise, and using a fork and knife when eating. Only upper class Americans eat with both a fork and knife still, and I’m sure you have noticed that many of us still speak with a soft British accent. My cousin, Eleanor, still does. It grates on my nerves, but there it is.”
“You can’t prove a thing,” Scott said, defiantly.
“I think the U.S. State Department might when they have a word from Ambassador Lindsay.” Mona turned to Nasha Martin. “Miss Martin, you told me that you were to spy on your jazz patrons. Who was your handler? Who gave you money for information?”
Angry and feeling like a fool, Martin threw out her arm and pointed at Scott, confirming what she had told Mona earlier. “He did! It was Abraham.”
William Donovan looked startled and moved toward Scott with a quickness and agility that defied his age.
Scott jumped up and ran for the French doors leading out to the garden, but Lindsay and Donovan caught him, pinning him to the floor.
Mona leaned over Scott. “The fact is that you don’t work for President Roosevelt. You never did. You just go around town posing as an American agent. You really are a German provocateur, sent over here to stir up trouble any way you can.”
“He won’t be causing any more trouble in the States once I make a few phone calls tonight,” Lindsay said.
Lady Lindsay beamed with delight at her husband catching a foreign spy. She was so very proud of him.
Violet rushed in with Samuel hot on her heels. “Is there trouble, Miss Mona?”
“It would help if one of you would procure a stout rope.”
Donovan, still holding down Scott, ordered Samuel, “Get a rope, man. There’s got to be one somewhere.”
“Here, use this,” Alice said, taking off her belt. She handed it to Donovan. “You can tie his hands with it.”
“Thank you, Alice,” Donovan replied.
“Good idea,” Samuel said, removing his pants belt. “Use this for his feet.” He and Donovan tied Scott up and put him in a chair.
“How do I fit into all of this? I don’t know anyone here except for the Lindsays and only to say hello,” Lisa LaMour complained.
“I’m going to explain that in just a moment.”
Alice plopped down into a chair. “We are waiting with bated breath. Do go on.”
“I can’t take much more of this. I want to go home,” Mrs. Dardel said.
“Don’t you want to know who killed your husband, Mrs. Dardel?”
Mrs. Dardel pointed at Scott. “He did. You said he was a German provocateur.”
“But I didn’t say he killed your husband. Otto Mueller, Abraham Scott, Nasha Martin, Ambassador Lindsay were all playing the Great Game, but none of them are murderers, and none of them ordered the murder of your husband. Not even the man sent to steal Otto Mueller’s papers wanted to kill him. It was an unfortunate incident.”
“Then who?”
Mona turned to Ambassador Lindsay. “That file you were missi
ng?”
“Yes?”
Mona could see Lady Lindsay tense up. “I stole that file.”
Ambassador Lindsay looked perplexed. “That’s impossible.”
Mona lied, “No, it’s not. I stole it the same way Alice steals files from President Roosevelt’s desk when she’s snooping.”
Alice said, “Hey, I just helped catch a spy. Don’t involve me in your double dealings with Ronald.”
“I will never tell how I got that file, but you got it back. Right?”
“I guess I have to beef up my security at the Embassy.”
“I guess you will, Ambassador, but my lips are sealed about it, except that the secret coroner’s report stated that a left-handed person stabbed Lars Dardel.” Mona turned to Mrs. Dardel. “If you remember, I was one of the first people to reach Lars after he had been attacked, but I didn’t know at the time how he was injured. I do remember you distinctly sobbing several feet from his body in the cloakroom.”
“I discovered his poor body.”
“But how did you know that he was dead? Did you check for a pulse?”
“No. I didn’t touch him.”
“Lars could have passed out from drinking or even had a heart attack. I only knew he was dead after I checked for a pulse. Until Ambassador Lindsay turned Lars over, I didn’t know he had been attacked. How did you know he was dead before I did?”
“I don’t know. He just looked dead.”
“Mrs. Dardel, you wear your watch on your right wrist.”
“So?”
“Left-handed people wear their watches on their right. You are left-handed. I think this is what happened. Lars had a reputation for the ladies. I think he cheated on you every chance he got.”
“I can concur with that,” Nasha Martin said. “He was always on the make. He even tried with me.”
“That’s enough, Miss Martin. Let’s not pour salt into the wound. This is going to be painful enough.” Mona sat beside a trembling Mrs. Dardel. “I think you knew about Lars’ liaisons. You saw Lars take me out onto the patio and thought he was having a rendezvous with me. Then you witnessed him dancing with Miss LaMour and saw his hand fondle her backside.”
“I should have slapped his face for that,” LaMour insisted.
“Hush!” Alice admonished. “Mona’s just getting to the good part.”
Mona tried to be gentle. “I think you’d had enough and flew into a jealous rage. You stabbed Lars, Mrs. Dardel. You killed your own husband.”
“Where’s the knife?”
“I think you put it in your purse, Mrs. Dardel. The police were never called. I’m sure the Embassy did an in-house investigation. It was British soil, after all.”
“I’m afraid when the staff did a second recount of the silverware, we were missing a knife,” Ambassador Lindsay said.
“My husband died of a heart-attack, did he not, Ambassador Lindsay? That’s what was written in the papers,” Mrs. Dardel uttered, staring into the fire. “It would look rather silly to have it come out now that he was murdered at your ball and on British soil right under your nose.”
Taken back by Mrs. Dardel’s effrontery, Lindsay had to concede. “Yes, Mrs. Dardel. It is as you say. Lars Dardel died of a heart attack.”
“Thank you.” Mrs. Dardel rose and made her way to the drawing room door.
Standing in front of the door, Violet and Samuel blocked her, looking at Mona.
Mona nodded and they moved away, allowing Mrs. Dardel free to leave.
Alice sputtered, “You’re letting her go?”
Lindsay tried to calm Alice. “There’s nothing we can do. It’s a matter of British national security.”
“But—” Alice said.
“No buts, just listen—all of you. This has to stay quiet. Tonight did not happen. In fact, I want the invitations from all of you,” Lindsay said, holding his hand out. Everyone gave Lindsay their invitations as Jamison rummaged Scott’s pockets for his.
“Aren’t we even going to eat?” Lisa LaMour asked.
“I’ll get you a doggy bag,” Alice said.
Lindsay kissed Alice on the cheek. “You give one blast of a dinner party, Alice, you cheeky girl.”
Lady Lindsay said to Alice, “We’ll talk about this later.”
Lindsay swirled on his wife. “No you won’t. Tonight never happened. We were never here.”
Lady Lindsay shrugged at Alice and followed her husband out of the house.
Scott struggled against his restraints as Alice asked William Donovan, “What should I do with him?”
“Let me make a phone call. My people will deal with him.”
“Thanks,” Alice said, gratefully.
Violet tugged on Mona’s arm. “Who attacked me?”
Mona turned to Donovan. “Mr. Donovan?”
“It wasn’t me.”
Mona kicked Scott’s foot. “I think it was you. After all, you were ordered to do mischief. I wouldn’t say yes, so you decided to send me a message through Violet. You wanted to teach me a lesson.”
“I guess you’ll never know.”
Taking her cue from Mona, Violet went up to Scott and angrily kicked him in the shin several times.
“You’re hurting me,” Scott complained.
“Oh, really. You don’t like to be hurt.” Violet leaned into Scott’s face. “Look what those bully boys did to my face. They could have marred me for life.”
“For goodness sakes, Bill, get that creep out of my house,” Alice said.
“With pleasure,” Donovan said, grabbing Scott by the tux’s collar and bringing him to his feet. He dragged Scott through French garden doors.
“This is terrible,” Alice wailed, looking sad.
“We caught a spy and a murderer,” Mona said, astonished at Alice’s melancholy.
“And I can’t tell a soul! How awful is that? One of the most astonishing nights of my life, and I can’t repeat a word of it.” Alice sank into a chair. “My life is misery.”
Mona laughed and poured Alice a stiff gin and tonic.
“What do we do now, Miss Mona?” Violet asked.
Mona put her arms around Violet’s shoulders and squeezed. “We are going home, Violet. That’s what we are going to do.”
27
As Mona was checking out of the hotel, a man bumped into her. Recognizing him as the British agent who jumped out of the Willard’s dining room window, Mona momentarily froze.
“Excuse me, Miss Moon, but you’ve dropped your newspaper. There’s a very interesting article on page five.” The man handed Mona a folded London Times and tipped his hat before exiting the Willard.
Mona waited until she got into her car before she opened the paper. There between page five and six was a sealed envelope. She carefully opened it and took out the letter.
Darling, I hope my friend, Colonel Maynard Pickard, got this note to you somehow. He said he knew someone who could hand it off without the press knowing it. It has been a circus here with the reporters following me. They give me neither rest nor peace. I knew I could not contact you through regular channels, as they are often compromised for a little coin. The newspapers would make your life a misery, too. As soon as I straighten out matters here, I am coming home. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms. My love always, R.
Alice Blue
Alice blue is a pale shade of gray-blue associated with Alice Roosevelt Longworth as it was her signature color. The song, Alice Blue Gown, premiered in the 1919 Broadway musical Irene. The color is used by the United States Navy for the insignia and trim on the USS Theodore Roosevelt.
Alice Roosevelt Longworth (1884-1980)
Alice was the eldest child of U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt. Interested in politics, she married Nicholas Longworth (Republican-Ohio) who was the Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives from 1925 to 1931. Their marriage was unconventional, and both parties had affairs. Alice’s only child, Paulina, was sired from an affair with Senator William Borah of Idaho. Paulina died fro
m an overdose in 1955, leaving Alice to raise her granddaughter. Known as a great wit, Alice is famous for saying, “If you haven’t got anything nice to say about anybody, come sit next to me.” She said of her father’s need for attention, “My father always wanted to be the corpse at every funeral, the bride at every wedding, and the baby at every christening.”
American Isolationism
A popular 1930s social and political philosophy advocating American non-involvement in foreign military conflicts, especially Europe and Asia.
Bessie Smith (1894-1937)
Nicknamed the Empress of the Blues, Smith was a popular American blues and jazz singer during the 1920s and 1930s. Smith recorded for Columbia Records. She died in a car crash at the age of 43 in 1937.
Black Hand
The Black Hand was a criminal enterprise brought over to the United States by Sicilian immigrants during the 1880s. Their game was mainly extortion. The origins of the Black Hand can be traced to the Kingdom of Naples as early as the 1750s.
Church of Sweden
Most Swedes converted from Catholicism to the Lutheran faith during the Protestant Reformation during the 16th century. Church of Sweden was the state religion until 2000.
Dorothy L. Sayers (1893-1957)
Sayers was an English mystery writer best known for The Nine Tailors, featuring her protagonist, English aristocrat and amateur sleuth, Lord Peter Wimsey. She was also a classical scholar who translated Dante’s Divine Comedy. Besides writing mysteries, Sayers wrote plays, poetry, and literary criticism. Although she distanced herself from feminism, Gaudy Night is considered the first feminist mystery, featuring Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey.
Dust Bowl Pneumonia (1930’s)
The Dust Bowl occurred in the Great Plains when the top soil dried out and blew away causing gigantic dust clouds. This phenomenon was caused by drought and poor agricultural practices. Illnesses such as “dust pneumonia” results when humans and animals breathe in large quantities of dust, thus inflaming the alveoli and preventing the lungs from clearing. Symptoms include difficulty in breathing, chest pain, fever, and coughing. The Red Cross made and distributed dust masks during the Dust Bowl, but it is estimated 7000 people still died.
