The Gemini Agenda

by Michael McMenamin

  66.

  Is It Really You?

  Munich

  Wednesday, 1 June 1932

  MATTIE had been pleased when Cockran returned from his meeting with Ted and Bobby in Churchill’s suite. The three of them were now flying to Passau to check out Ted’s tunnel. Cockran had been taking far too many risks lately but at least he wasn’t being stubborn about Ted’s discovery.

  Maybe Sullivan’s presence had something to do with it, she thought, for Bobby had told her, off the record, that he agreed with her about the dangers of their plan. “It’s more risky than I prefer,” he had said. “But Bourke is determined and I see no other way if the twins are to have any chance at all.”

  Restless, Mattie decided to take a long walk before lunch. The sky overhead was clear and blue, another fine day for flying. The air was brisk and Mattie zipped her brown leather jacket up to her neck. As she walked, she realized that her route would take her past the Brown House, Nazi party headquarters. Mattie still had not shown Cockran the photographs she had taken yesterday afternoon of Kurt von Sturm. She saw no upside to it and plenty of downside. Regardless of why Kurt had been there, it wouldn’t help them rescue the twins.

  Mattie looked at her watch. It was nearly 1:00 p.m. and she was feeling peckish. The Brown House was still four blocks away and she decided she didn’t want to continue on that route. The photo of Kurt filled her Nazi quota for the day. She turned left and soon found herself at a large beer garden with outside seating. She ordered a stein of pilsner with bratwurst and kraut, pulled out Brave New World, the book she was reading which Hearst had included in their eugenics research file. Test tube babies! Huxley sure had an active imagination.

  She was halfway through her stein and had finished off the wurst when a shadow blocked the sun. This had happened before as people passed by her table. But this shadow was not moving. She put her book down to deliver a stern frown to the rude person standing above her.

  Suddenly, the shadow spoke. “Mattie, is it really you?”

  Oh, my God. Mattie thought. It can’t be. She turned her face up at the shadow to see a smiling Kurt von Sturm. She started to rise but Sturm motioned her to stay seated.

  “May I join you?”

  “Please do,” Mattie said, extending her hand. He grasped it and his lips softly brushed the back of her hand. Her pulse quickened, her body’s invariable reaction to the touch of this man.

  Sturm settled into the chair opposite her and ordered a large stein of lager.

  “What are you doing in Germany?” Kurt asked.

  “Working on a story,” Mattie replied.

  “Really? May I inquire as to its nature?”

  “I’d rather not say. Ten murders in America and the trail has led me here,” Mattie said.

  “You believe the killer is a German?”

  Mattie nodded. She had wanted to ask the question the minute she saw Kurt but she had refrained. Kurt, however, had opened the door wide and Mattie walked right through it.

  “Kurt, why were you at Doktor von Verschuer’s clinic outside Passau yesterday?”

  Sturm had been raising his stein to his lips as Mattie asked the question and he stopped midway there and returned the stein to the table, unable to hide the surprise in his face.

  “How…?”

  “I took your photograph as we flew over. You were in a large open Mercedes motorcar.”

  “You were in one of those two autogiros?” Sturm broke eye contact, turning to watch the street traffic. “I was reminded of you the moment they appeared in the sky. You were flying out of my life. I thought…” he turned back to face her. “I never expected to see you again.”

  Yeah, well, same here, she thought, but you’re evading my question. She waited.

  “Herr Cockran is with you?” he asked. Mattie nodded. “So what were you doing flying out there?”

  Mattie smiled and shook her head. “No, Kurt. I asked first. Why were you there?”

  “May we speak in confidence?” Kurt said, and then quickly added, “Lives are at stake.”

  Mattie shook her head. “If it involves my story, no. Whatever you tell me I will share with Cockran. The clinic is key to solving these murders so we can’t speak in confidence.”

  “It’s a long story,” Sturm said and looked away. “Last year, before we met, I was involved romantically with an American woman. Her husband was away.…”

  “A married woman?” Mattie asked and waited. She wasn’t about to make this easy.

  “Well, yes. In fact, almost all of my romantic liaisons are with married women.” He paused and once more looked her in the eye. “You were the exception.”

  Now it was Mattie’s turn to feel uncomfortable as she looked away and felt the color rise in her cheeks. It served her right. Then the similarity struck her. Cockran was just the same! Before he met Mattie, his “romantic liaisons” were with Gold Coast socialites eager to get even with their straying husbands. Mattie was the “exception” for Cockran as well. The similarities didn’t end there. Both could kill in cold blood. Both were in love with her. Both had made love to her. But that last thought was one best not to dwell upon in this captivating man’s presence. She turned her head back. “Go on. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Mattie listened with growing amazement as Sturm told how he had briefly resumed his affair with the American woman two months ago; how he had saved her from being killed; how her twin siblings had disappeared; and how they came to be on the trail of Otmar von Verschuer. Mattie repressed a shudder when Sturm told her about the introductory letter from Adolf Hitler. It reminded her that she really had slept with a Nazi. But the journalist in her quickly recovered.

  “We’re after the same guy, Kurt,” Mattie said, as she pulled a sheet of paper from her handbag. “What are the twins’ names?”

  “The girl is named Beatrice and the boy.…”

  “No,” Mattie said, cutting him off, “their last name.”

  “Johansson.”

  Mattie handed the paper to Kurt. “There. The last two names. We’re after the same guy.”

  “Please explain,” Kurt said.

  So Mattie did, from her first meeting with Hearst right down to her meeting that morning with Cockran about the tunnel. She wasn’t certain Cockran would approve but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t holding anything back now because she fully intended to recruit her former lover to help them. Why? Because it would immeasurably improve Cockran’s chances for safely rescuing the twins. And Cockran’s safety was more important to her than the twins or the story.

  Once Mattie reached the point in her story where Wesley Waterman’s nonprofit corporations were involved, Sturm raised his hand to stop her.

  “Wesley Waterman? The chairman of I.C.E.?”

  “The same. Why do you ask?”

  “My friend, the woman I’m helping, is Waterman’s wife, Ingrid.”

  Mattie felt her face drain of color.

  67.

  Hudson’s Tunnel

  Munich aerodrome

  Wednesday, 1 June 1932

  COCKRAN pulled his goggles down over his leather flying helmet and watched as Bobby Sullivan and Ted Hudson climbed into the autogiro’s front cockpit. The meeting in Churchill’s suite had gone surprisingly well. Hudson had not revealed his sources but had otherwise told them everything he had learned about the escape tunnel. Cockran was impressed. Hudson’s story had even persuaded Bobby Sullivan, a man who could smell a liar a mile away.

  Hudson had produced a hand-drawn schematic of the clinic’s interior which he claimed to have been given by his source. He said he had explored the tunnel yesterday but had not gone into the clinic itself. The door from the tunnel into the clinic was locked but Hudson said he had easily picked the lock open. The existence of the tunnel and its location were known to only a few senior medical staff. If the political winds favoring the Nazis suddenly shifted, the top medical staff would escape to conduct experiments another day.

  Cockran
’s own days in MID, however, had taught him that conducting any operation without advance intelligence was unwise. Usually, if one member of the team had been on the ground learning the lay of the land, that was sufficient. But not if that person had been someone you didn’t trust. Like Ted Hudson. Once Cockran made the suggestion that he, Bobby and Hudson fly out to Passau for a first-hand inspection, however, Hudson had readily agreed.

  Had he misjudged Ted? No, he thought, Hudson was still an ends justifies means types of guy who still had a problem with Mattie and Cockran being together, the Ohio hotel bills and the Cold Spring Harbor brawl being Exhibit A. But the situation with the twins just might be different. Or so he hoped. Hudson and men like him believed themselves to be American patriots whose methods could be quite ruthless and their interrogations excessive if not bordering on torture, the latter a lot like Bobby Sullivan if truth be told. But intelligence was a tough business and Cockran had never doubted Ted’s competence in the field. If it took Hudson’s help to save the American twins, this could be just the break they needed.

  And time was running out. The autopsies would start on Friday. Cockran pressed the starter button and the cylinders in the Wright Whirlwind engine rumbled into life. Whether the tunnel proved viable or not, they would have to try and rescue the twins tomorrow night.

  The Verschuer Clinic

  The Bavarian National Forest

  Wednesday, 1 June 1932

  TWO miles from the compound, Cockran cut the autogiro’s engine and made a silent dead stick landing, floating gently to earth in a flower-filled clearing early in the afternoon. After putting camouflage netting over the autogiro, they hiked through the forest and approached the clinic’s compound from the rear, the point of the triangle with no watchtower. Within 30 minutes, they were at the tunnel’s entrance. No effort had been made to conceal a plain, gray metal door built into the side of the hill with a lock but no door handle. Hudson easily picked the lock and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. Weapons in hand, they entered the tunnel and 15 minutes later, they reached steps up to a second door which opened into the clinic. Hudson again picked the lock.

  Cockran motioned behind him for Sullivan and Hudson to switch off their electric torches. Then, he carefully opened the door a crack and peered inside. There was a long white corridor brightly lit with a floor of white tile. He heard voices. He watched as a white coated orderly walked past the door. He was followed by a procession of what appeared to be patients. They walked slowly past the door, clad only in hospital gowns, tied at the neck but open in the back. They were paired off as they walked past, two women, two men, two more women, two more men, followed by two more women, and then a man and a woman. It was difficult to tell their ages when all he could see were their bare backsides, their naked flesh fairly firm. Behind the twelve was another orderly but, he noted, both orderlies were unarmed and he saw no guards.

  Cockran silently closed the door and switched on his torch. “Twelve people walked past in hospital gowns. Two orderlies were with them, both unarmed. It looks like the twins are all here.”

  “How do they look?” Hudson asked.

  “Difficult to say,” Cockran replied. “I could only see the back of them. But they were walking slowly, almost shuffling. Possibly sedated. Let’s watch for another hour.”

  Cockran switched off his torch and once more opened the door a crack. He watched an empty corridor for nearly thirty minute before he heard voices again and watched as the twins returned in the same order as they had left. Two women, two men, two women, two men, two women, all followed by a man and a woman. Cockran could see their faces now. Five sets of identical twins ranging in age from, as best Cockran could tell, mid-twenties through late-thirties. All the women were fairly attractive. Two of the six women were blondes; two had light brown hair; and two were brunettes. As before, the a man and a woman brought up the rear and were the only fraternal twins. Now that he could see their faces, Cockran could tell that they certainly had been drugged. Vacant stares and a listless demeanor were proof of that. They did not look well. Another thirty minutes passed and Cockran saw no more activity in the hallway. No armed guards patrolling.

  Cockran hated to admit it but Hudson might be right. Ted’s tunnel might work.

  68.

  I Wish Luck to You Both

  Munich

  Wednesday, 1 June 1932

  MATTIE gasped. “Your lover is Ingrid Waterman?”

  Sturm put his finger to his lips. “All of Munich does not need to know this, Mattie.”

  “Do you know she’s getting a divorce?” Mattie asked.

  “Yes. I assume that is one of the reasons her husband is trying to have her killed.”

  “Well, hang on to your hat, buster. Guess who Ingrid’s lawyer is for her divorce?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know but.…” Sturm paused. “Herr Cockran?” he asked tentatively.

  “Yes. Bourke is her lawyer. I haven’t seen them but I’ll bet you’re the blond mystery guy rogering Ingrid in those naked photographs her husband introduced in the divorce case.”

  “Photographs? Of Ingrid and me? I don’t need to guess what ‘rogering’ means.…”

  “An old English expression but, yes, you know what it means.”

  Sturm said nothing. If he were embarrassed, it didn’t show.

  “What is Verschuer doing with those twins?” Mattie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sturm said. “He has long specialized in the study of twins. But, judging from what happened to the ten twins on your list in America, it doesn’t look good for the others.”

  “I know,” Mattie replied. “But you’ve seen the twins there. You said they spoke English and appeared to be drugged. Can’t you go to the authorities? Won’t they do something?”

  Sturm shook his head. “Sadly, no. I was only able to learn the clinic’s location from a Nazi sympathizer in the Regensburg police department.”

  “If the authorities won’t help, will you help us?” Mattie asked. “Me. Cockran. And Bobby Sullivan. You remember him?”

  Sturm smiled. “I remember Herr Sullivan very well.”

  “Well, June 3 is the day after tomorrow. Bourke and Bobby and two of Bobby’s friends from Ireland are planning an assault to free the twins, probably tomorrow night.”

  “That would not be wise,” Sturm said.

  “Why?”

  “Many SS guard the place and they are well armed.”

  “If you would help, that would improve their chances,” Mattie said.

  Sturm shook his head. “I work best alone.”

  Mattie’s heart sank. “But how do you plan to rescue Ingrid’s brother and sister?”

  “I cannot say. You have made it clear that you will repeat whatever I tell you to Herr Cockran. Suffice it to say I will secure their release.”

  “But not the other ten?” Mattie asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you know about the tunnel?” Mattie asked.

  “Tunnel? I know of no tunnel.”

  Mattie explained about Ted Hudson and the tunnel. “If they decide the tunnel is a viable option, will you help them then?”

  Sturm shook his head. “My first obligation is to Ingrid’s brother and sister.”

  “What can I say to persuade you to change your mind and help us?” Mattie asked. There was an icy calm about Sturm that she had to break through. He couldn’t be that cold. “What if Ingrid weren’t involved? What if it were just me asking you to help? What would it take?”

  “It still wouldn’t be my fight.”

  “What would make it your fight?”

  “Something my honor forbids me to ask and yours to answer.” There was a softness in Sturm’s eyes and Mattie knew exactly what he meant. Mattie couldn’t imagine many woman saying no to Kurt von Sturm. Ingrid Waterman certainly hadn’t. The same had once been true of Mattie McGary. But no more. It wasn’t her honor, however, it was her love for Cockran.

  The problem of Cockran’s safe
ty, however, was still unresolved. She wanted to save the twins every bit as much as he did. With one exception. It was not worth Cockran’s life. Kurt von Sturm would have gone a long way toward improving their odds for success. Without that, Mattie knew she had only one card left to play. She was going in with Cockran. Whatever happened, they would face it together. He could complain all he wanted. And if Mattie’s threatened presence caused Cockran to call it off? Did she want that? Perhaps. She wasn’t sure. But she was finally beginning to understand how Cockran felt when she took unnecessary risks.

  Mattie knew she had to persuade Kurt to reconsider but she could not think of anything that would convince him. “Is there some way I can contact you?” she finally asked. “In case I need your help on something else and you’re in a position to give it?”

  Kurt took a drink of his lager as he considered her request. His eyes watching her over the rim of his stein betrayed his continuing love for her. “I cannot say whether I will be in a position to help you, but if you must reach me, ask for Herr Boettman at the Bayerische Hof.

  Sturm stood up from the table and took her right hand in both of his. “I’m happy we met again,” he said. “I’m sorry I cannot help you or Herr Cockran. He is a good man whom I both admire and respect.” He smiled. “I envy him as well and I wish luck to you both.” With that, he turned his back on her and walked away.

  69.

  Speechless

  Hotel Continental

  Munich

  Wednesday, 1 June 1932

  BOURKE Cockran was speechless. He sat there in stunned silence as Mattie recounted her meeting with Kurt von Sturm. He couldn’t believe it. That damned Nazi was back! Worse, the man who had seduced Mattie had also done the same to his client, Ingrid Waterman! The studio-quality photographs now resting in a court file took on an entirely new significance for Cockran who had torn himself up a year ago with his fevered imaginings of Mattie and Sturm making love. Over time, that wound had begun to heal, the images fading. No more. No more imagining, either. The images were there again playing over and over in his mind like a motion picture, Mattie’s face and body all too easily substituted for Ingrid’s.