Treason in the Secret City

by Diane Fanning

  ‘Oh my, that would make Mabel pretty mad,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘And I sure would like to get a ride home.’

  ‘That’s settled then. Now, come on, Jessie. Who was it who pushed you to find me?’ I held my breath while I waited for an answer.

  Jessie sighed. ‘Listen, Libby, I did start looking for you because she asked me but when I ran into you, it was so nice to see you again. You never teased me for being so chubby like a lot of the other girls. And you seemed so nice. And I liked having someone to talk to who remembers home.’

  ‘Who, Jessie?’

  ‘Mama. It was Mama’s idea. Sort of. Actually, it was your mother who talked Mama into it.’

  ‘My mother? She writes to me at Christmas and on my birthday and that’s it. I never hear from her the rest of the year and she wanted you to contact me?’

  ‘Honest, Libby, I was going to wait until I figured out whether or not you wanted to talk to your mom before I even mentioned it. And if you never brought her up, I was fixin’ not to say anything at all.’

  ‘Fine, fine, Jessie. That’s not the point. What is my mother up to now?’

  ‘She wants you to come home. She wants to divorce Ernest but she wants to stay on the farm. She needs your help to get rid of him and to run the farm once he’s gone.’

  ‘So she thinks I should sacrifice my life and my career on the altar of her helplessness. I made the decision to reject that possibility long ago and I’m not going back,’ I said. ‘Why does she suddenly want to rid herself of that lazy, incompetent, ignorant husband after all these years?’

  ‘He pulled Ernie Junior out of school to work on the farm.’

  ‘She didn’t seem to mind when he pulled me out of school. I can’t believe that selfish woman would fret about what happens to Junior. What has he done to her?’

  ‘It’s not good, Libby. The tobacco crop that used to earn nearly enough money to maintain the household all year long is disappearing before your stepfather gets home from the auction. Your mother knows he’s drinking far too much but she doesn’t know what he’s doing with the rest of the money. A couple of times, she made the mistake of questioning about where the money is going when Ernest had had too much to drink and he smacked her around.’

  ‘So that’s her concern,’ I said. ‘Not Junior, not the farm, but her pin money and her bruises.’

  ‘It’s more than bruises, Libby. The last time, he broke one of her ribs.’

  My mother, Annabelle Clark, was a self-centered coward. Still, she was my mother and now she was a victim and calling out for my help. My resistance to returning to my childhood home drenched me in a flood of guilt. For a moment, I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. I had to go. And I had to convince Aunt Dorothy to go with me. Since she owned half the farm, she would add the needed legal weight to drive my step-father off of it. Jessie sat quietly with her head bowed as if ashamed of being the bearer of bad news.

  ‘Jessie, thank you. I did need to know this and I do need to pay a visit to see what I can do. But tell your mama this: I am involved in a literal life-and-death problem right now. It involves more than individuals, it is connected to the war. I can’t say anything more except that it goes beyond my work in the lab. I will go back to the farm as soon as I can. I will do what I can to get her out of a bad situation but I cannot stay and run the farm. My mother will have to find a way to cope or to actually do something to deal with her problem until I can get there.’

  ‘I wrote Mama a letter early this morning. An army boy from Lynchburg who’s going on leave tomorrow offered to drop it off to Mama when he goes past her place on a trip to the mountains with his family. I’ll add your message to it tonight. And I’m sorry, Libby – in lots of ways.’

  I patted her on the arm and she enveloped me in a hug. I returned it, surprised by the warmth I felt toward this voice from the past. When I pulled away, I said, ‘Let’s go now so you can get started on it and see if we can find that letter from Mabel.’

  I clutched the piece of paper with Mabel’s address in my hand as I straggled into Joe’s a little while later. I wasn’t the last one to enter the back room but I was late enough that the waitress was already in there, setting the pitchers and glasses on the table.

  Everyone shared bits and pieces of the news they’d heard that day through the radio and the grapevine. ‘Does anyone else wonder if everything we have been doing here is now going to be irrelevant, that the troops are going to win this war without any help from us?’ Teddy asked.

  ‘The invasion has only begun, Teddy,’ I said. ‘It is far too early to declare victory.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Tom chimed in. ‘And don’t forget, there’s more than one front to this war and those Nips seem to embrace the idea of dying for the cause. The Krauts want to win but the Nips want to die trying.’

  ‘Really, Tom? Yes, they are the enemy but they have mothers at home just like we do,’ Gregg said.

  Tom lurched to his feet, hands balled tight at his sides. ‘Don’t you compare my mother to those Jezebel Krauts or those kamikaze geishas.’

  Gregg rose up from his seat, too, jutting out a chin in Tom’s direction. ‘They’re people, too, Tom. All people have feelings. All mothers have hearts that break.’

  I stood and walked to the head of the table and smacked on the wood with a fist. ‘Both of you, cut it out, now. Sit down and remember: the enemy is not at this table. Period.’

  ‘“For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”’ Dennis said.

  All heads turned toward him and stared bewildered and silent.

  ‘It’s from the Bible. The New Testament. Matthew 16:26. I often think of it when I think of the war, of the Nazi aggression in Europe, the Japanese occupying forces in China and across the Far East. And it is also brought to my mind when I contemplate the work we are doing on the gadget and the coarsening of our attitudes toward our fellow man. Jesus said we are to love our enemies and we have reduced them to sub-human instead. It certainly would be foolish to win the war and lose our souls in the bargain.’

  ‘Oh, jeez, we’ve got a holy-roller in our midst,’ Tom said as he slumped back into his chair.

  Gregg sat down and said, ‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough name-calling for one night, Tom?’

  Tom’s posture turned rigid as a dark cloud of fury crossed his face.

  ‘Oh, please, let’s not start up again,’ I said.

  ‘Sorry. Sorry, Libby. Sorry, Tom. Let’s just call this meeting to order,’ Gregg said. ‘Our little project, Frannie Snowden, is certainly a needy young woman. She complained about being cooped-up, about not hearing from Marvin, about all the people celebrating the night before while she was stuck in her room not knowing what was going on. So I went out and bought her a radio to keep her occupied. I’m worried she’s not taking this seriously enough. Libby, I think it’s time she knew what’s happened to her cousin. Otherwise, I’m afraid the temptation might be far too great and she’ll wander out on her own.’

  I sighed. I realized I had been avoiding that conversation without giving any thought to my motivation. I should have talked to Frannie before now. ‘I’ll go see her tomorrow after work. There is something else I need to attend to in Knoxville but it will have to wait. I flattened the lightly crumpled piece of paper with Mabel’s address on the table and explained the situation.

  ‘I’ll visit her Friday evening. I think I should go alone and talk to her woman-to-woman.’

  ‘Too much risk,’ Teddy said.

  ‘I surely can deal with a girl without the assistance of a man,’ I objected.

  ‘But what if Hansrote shows up?’ Tom asked.

  ‘The odds are against it. He usually only visits her once a week. I’ll listen for a male voice before I knock and I’ll work to build a girl-to-girl connection with her immediately, so if he shows up, she won’t mind hiding me in a closet or somewhere.’

  ‘I don’t like it,’ Teddy said.

&n
bsp; I knew he was only concerned for my safety. I knew he was not ordering me around. Still, I felt the stifling effect of being in a room of men telling me what to do and I bristled. ‘If you don’t like it, Mr Mullins, then you can lump it. And that goes for all of you. I’ve made up my mind and that’s final. I go alone.’

  I glared at them as they snuck nervous glances at one another. Then Tom stood, raised his beer glass and said, ‘To Libby Clark and the success of her mission!’

  ‘Here! Here!’ went around the room as glasses were raised in a salute. Then Tom couldn’t help himself. He had to add a sarcastic finale. He stepped back from the table and doffed an imaginary hat as he bowed low and said, ‘Anything further, madam?’

  For a brief moment, it stung like a slap in the face. Then, the humor of it all struck me causing me to burst out laughing. Everyone at the table joined me. The merry band was merry once again. What an odd group we all were. In the back of my mind, I could hear Tiny Tim saying, ‘God bless us every one.’

  The laughter died down, a pitcher passed around, and Gregg said, ‘Anyone else have anything to report?’

  TWENTY-ONE

  Thursday was just more work day of the same painstaking retrieval and analysis, except for one exciting realization. By Monday, I would have enough of the green salt to make a shipment. Best of all, the concentration had now reached seventy percent.

  By the time I finished the last quality check, it was seven o’clock and time to call it quits. This steady diet of ten hours and more of work every day was exhausting but I was feeling very energetic as I hopped into my car for Knoxville. The weight of my purpose to deliver the news to Frannie grew a little heavier with every mile of the drive. I hoped I’d handle it well.

  The only comfort I had to give her when it was time for me to leave was the last chocolate bar from my treasure chest. It sounded like an excellent idea when I grabbed it but now it felt pathetic.

  When she answered my knock on the door, she smiled wide and said, ‘Oh, if you’re here, it must be good news.’

  Her upbeat words felt like a hard kick in my shins. I wanted to turn and run but forced my feet across the threshold.

  ‘I can order something from room service. Would you like some coffee, some tea? Can’t get anything stronger because of the silly rules in this hick town. But, oh, have you had dinner? I could order something for you. What would you like?’ Frannie said as she bounced between me and the telephone on a little table in the sitting area.

  ‘Frannie, can you get an outside line on that phone?’ I asked, thinking it might be a better way for Joe to keep in touch with his sister.

  ‘Oh, no. I can get the front desk or any room in the building but you have to go to the lobby to talk to anybody who’s not in the hotel. When will I get to see Marvin?’

  I winced at her question. ‘That’s why I’m here – to talk about Marvin.’

  ‘Oh my. Is he angry with me? Or does he think I’m a spy after all?’

  ‘No, Frannie, not at all. Marvin is not upset with you in any way.’

  ‘Is he sick? Is he hurt?’

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and patted a spot beside me. ‘Come, sit down, Frannie.’

  She sunk onto the mattress, her eyes already welling with tears. ‘Oh, please, tell me he’s all right.’

  My throat tightened with every word I spoke. ‘Oh, Frannie, I wish I could.’

  She threw her face in her hands and sobbed. ‘I don’t want to hear any more but I know I have to. How bad is it? When can I see him?’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, choking back my tears. ‘You can’t see him, Frannie. Marvin won’t be going home after the war.’

  ‘No, no, no, no,’ she said jumping to her feet. ‘Not Marvin. Marvin was going to be safe. He didn’t sign up to fight. He’s not going to the front. He’s doing important work to end the war using his brain, not a gun. He’s stateside. He’s safe,’ Frannie babbled, with her hands flying wildly in the air.

  I rose and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently sat her back on the bed. Sitting down next to her, I quieted her hands between mine. ‘Hush, baby, hush,’ I whispered.

  ‘How could this happen?’ she wailed. ‘Was he in an accident? Did something blow up in the lab? Did he get run over by one of those awful buses?’

  ‘Remember the day we moved you out of that shack in the woods?’

  Frannie nodded.

  ‘We did that after we found Marvin’s body.’

  ‘Where did you find him?’

  ‘In the woods. We thought he was on his way out to your shack and left the path before he got there.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell me?’

  ‘We thought it was the right thing to do at the time, Frannie. We knew it would upset you and probably frighten you. And we needed to have you calm to get you to safety. That seemed like the most important thing to do.’

  ‘Wait a minute. Safety? I’m confused. I thought he had an accident. Oh no, was he mauled by a wild animal? By a bear? I hear animals rustling in the forest when I go back and forth to the hutments. It made me nervous but I never really thought they would attack me.’

  Would it be kinder to let her think that? Maybe. But I couldn’t lie to her. ‘It wasn’t an accident. And it wasn’t wild animals, Frannie. Marvin was murdered.’

  She stared at me with her mouth slack and her eyes glazed. I waited for her to recover from that stark news.

  She opened and shut her mouth a few times before she spoke. ‘Is his body still in the woods?’

  ‘No, Frannie. He has been moved to the morgue.’

  ‘I want to see him. I want to see him now.’

  ‘No, you don’t, Frannie.’

  ‘Yes, I do. I have to. After all he did for me, I need to say goodbye.’

  ‘First of all,’ I reminded her, ‘if you set foot on the reservation, you will be arrested.’

  ‘I don’t care. If I can see him first, I don’t care.’ A hard look darted across her face and she added, ‘You’d be surprised at what I can handle.’

  I wondered what ugly truth in her past was hidden behind those cold words. ‘Frannie, please trust me. You do not want to see him. Not now. You don’t want that sight stuck in your mind. The image of his body when I found him haunts me. It pops up in my thoughts when I least expect it. It intrudes on my dreams. Believe me, it was awful. It was a dreadful experience for me and I’ve only known him a short time. You won’t be able to live with it.’

  ‘What did they do to him?’

  ‘You don’t want to know, Frannie, really you don’t.’

  ‘Either you tell me or I will take a bus with the other workers going in tomorrow morning and see him for myself.’

  I couldn’t look her in the eyes as I choked out a description of his bound body, broken fingers and fractured legs.

  ‘But how did he die? What killed him?’ she asked.

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and said, ‘A rope – a length of it was cinched around his neck.’

  Her hand flew to her mouth and her sobbing began anew. She fell into my arms with all the drama of an actress in one of those B movies she loved. In a couple of minutes, her shoulders stopped heaving and she sniffled as she pulled away. ‘It was all my fault, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No, Frannie. You did not cause that. Marvin only did what he felt he had to do.’

  ‘But it was because of me. They tortured him to find me, didn’t they?’

  ‘That’s what we’re assuming.’

  Her eyelids floated down and for a second, she looked as serene as a madonna. When she opened them again, she said, ‘That makes it all my fault, Libby. If I hadn’t been such a sucker, he wouldn’t have been killed. It was Hansrote, wasn’t it?’

  ‘We do think it was all at his instigation but we’re certain others were involved.’

  ‘Tell me exactly what happened and how you were able to find Marvin.’

  I explained about the man in the suit and the place that oth
ers lay in wait and the marks left along the trail.

  ‘The man in the suit was Hansrote,’ she said with conviction.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Maybe? Just maybe?’

  ‘Okay, probably. It probably was Hansrote,’ I admitted.

  ‘I’m going to kill him. I’m going to get a gun and kill him.’

  ‘Frannie, you don’t mean that. We’re working to get information on him so that we can have him arrested. You don’t want to throw your life away like that.’

  ‘But how can I ever face my family again? My Aunt Sophie? My heavens, she’ll probably never speak to me again. Maybe I’ll just shoot him and then shoot myself.’

  ‘Stop, Frannie. Stop that right now. Killing Hansrote will not bring Marvin back. If it would, I’d do it myself. We have leads to follow and we’re going to follow them. We need you to stay calm, quiet and in your room. Not only is the army looking for you but so are the spies. We need you to stay safe – you have to be alive to tell the authorities what happened so we can put Hansrote away forever.’

  ‘Death penalty,’ she said, rising to her feet and pacing the room. ‘That’s what he should get. But before they kill him, they ought to tie him to a tree and break every bone in his godforsaken body.’

  ‘He could be executed, Frannie, but we don’t know right now. First we need to find the evidence. I have to get back but I really want you to think about Hansrote and remember everything about him that you can. Write it all down so you won’t forget. We will not give up until he gets his reckoning. I promise you that.’

  Frannie flopped back on the bed as if her anger had run its course and the only thing left was fatigue. ‘I just want to die.’

  ‘You can’t, not now. Not until we get justice for Marvin.’ I almost asked her if she wanted to call Marvin’s parents to inform them about his death but then I realized that was next to impossible. She’s have to leave the hotel to do that and that was too risky. Handing her the chocolate bar, I said, ‘Here, it’s not much, but it’s yours.’

  ‘I couldn’t eat anything right now. I just want to go to sleep.’