people start asking questions. Which we did, after we got a look at their factory help. Von Braun was the team leader-he had the technical files, the real trump card. But these aren’t bad as a bargaining chip. Clean hands.” He held up his own. “‘Let’s shake and make a deal. Here are the specs and the drawings. Let’s make some rockets together. The rest of it-you can see, we weren’t responsible, it was SS.’”
“But it was SS-it’s all there.”
“Then he was right to want them, wasn’t he? He’s even convinced you.”
“Come on, Bernie, they didn’t string anybody up. They were in Peenemunde until February-it says so in the files. How much could they know?”
“Everybody knew,” he said sharply, using his courtroom voice, making another case. “That’s what no one wants to believe. Everybody knew. Renate Naumann knew. Gunther knew. Everybody in this goddamn country knew. You think somebody who could get an SS car those last weeks didn’t know? They didn’t stop hanging people after February-they had to have seen it. Not to mention all the oth ers. They had forty camps for workers there, Jake, forty, and people were dying in all of them. They knew.“
“That doesn’t make them—”
“No, just accessories. You think they’re any better because they knew how to work a slide rule? They knew.” He stopped, dropping his prosecutor’s voice. “And I can’t touch them. Lucky for them the SS liked to take all the credit. So they’re off a very big hook. Worth coming to Berlin for, wouldn’t you say? Anyway, it’s a theory. Got a better one?”
“Then why send Emil? Why not some flunky?”
“Maybe he was the only one willing to go. He had a wife here.”
Jake looked away, then shook his head. “Except he didn’t come alone. There were two men with him. Why risk sending him?”
“He knew what to look for.”
Jake sighed. “So did Tully. He came here. There has to be something. And I’m missing it.”
Bernie shrugged. “You read the files.”
“Yes,” he said, then looked up. “But I’m not the only one. Keep my seat warm, will you? I’ll be back later.”
“Where are you going?”
“To get a second opinion.”
Shaeffer had moved from bed to chair, but the bandage was still in place, apparently itching now, because he was scratching himself when Jake walked in.
“Well, my new partner,” he said, pleased to have a diversion. “Got something for me?”
“No, you’ve got something for me.” Jake sat on the bed. “You went to the Document Center to read the A-4 files. What did you find?”
Shaeffer looked at him, a boy surprised at being caught, then smiled. “Nothing.”
“Nothing.”
“That’s right, nothing.”
“That must have been disappointing. After looking twice.”
“Real shamus, aren’t you?”
“Your name’s in the sign-in book. Tully’s there too. Same day. But you knew that.”
Shaeffer looked up. “No.”
“But you’re not surprised either.”
Shaeffer scratched himself again, saying nothing.
Jake stared at him, then sat back, folding his arms over his chest. “We could do this all day. Want to tell me what you were looking for, or should we play twenty questions?”
“What? Something I didn’t already know, that’s what. I didn’t find it.”
Jake unfolded his arms. “Talk to me, Shaeffer. This isn’t as much fun as you think. Man follows Tully to a place same day he’s killed, looks at the same files, carries the same kind of gun that killed himI’ve known people convicted on less.”
“Now who’s being funny. For ten cents I’d pop you one. I told you, I didn’t know he was there.”
“Let’s try it a different way. Brandt said something to Tully. I assume you picked this up on one of your taps?”
Shaeffer nodded. “I didn’t think anything of it at first. You know, the monitors jot down things that might be of interest-when they’re listening. So you get these scraps. You have to figure out the rest yourself. Unless it’s technical-then they take down everything.”
“And this wasn’t.”
“One of their personal chats. This and that. And then he says, ‘Everything we did, it’s in the files.’ Words to that effect, anyway. Nothing funny about that-it was all there in Nordhausen, they didn’t hold anything back. Tons of the stuff. They want to use it themselves, right? So why hold anything back? And then he walks and I’m going through the transcripts and I thought, what if? Maybe he means the other files. It’s worth a check. But nothing new there, unless you saw something I didn’t. So I figured he did mean the Nordhausen files.”
“But Tully didn’t think so. And he knew something you didn’t.”
“What?”
“The rest of the conversation.”
Shaeffer considered this for a moment, then shook his head. “But there’s nothing there. I looked.”
“Twice.”
“So twice. Maybe my German’s not as good as yours.”
“How’s Breimer’s? He’s in the book too. Is that why you asked him along? Or did he have reasons of his own?”
“He’s out of this—”
“Tell me or I’ll ask him myself. Partner.”
Shaeffer glared at him, then dropped his shoulders and began picking at the adhesive tape. “Look, we’re walking a fine line here. These guys are the best rocket team in the world-there’s nobody else near them. We have to have them. But they’re German. And some people are sensitive about that. It’s one thing if they just followed orders-who the hell didn’t? — but if there’s anything else, well, we can’t embarrass Breimer. We need his help. He can’t—”
“Give jobs to Nazis.”
“To bad ones, anyway.”
“And you thought there might be something embarrassing in the files.”
“No, I didn’t think that.” He looked away. “Anyway, there wasn’t. I don’t know what the hell Brandt meant, if he meant anything. The important thing is what wasn’t there. These guys are clean.”
“Teitel doesn’t think they’re so clean.”
“He’s a Jew. What do you expect?”
Jake looked over at him. “Maybe not to hear an American say that,” he said quietly.
“You know what I mean. The guy’s on a fucking crusade. Well, he’s not getting these guys. There’s nothing there.”
Jake stood up. “There must be. Something Tully figured he could sell to the Russians.”
“Well, not that they were Nazis. The Russians don’t care.”
“And neither do we.”
Shaeffer raised his head, poster-boy chin out. “Not these guys.”
Outside, the light had begun to fade, the lingering soft end of the day. In the billet they’d be getting ready for dinner, the old woman ladling soup. Jake left the jeep and walked down Gelferstrasse, thinking of that first evening when Liz had flirted with him in the bath. About the time Tully must have been reading files, waiting for someone. Or had he been surprised? Start the numbers over. Tully arriving at the airport. Somewhere in the blur of Liz’s pictures, unless they were just another empty file too.
The old man was setting the table as he passed by the dining room avoiding the drinks crowd in the lounge. Upstairs, his room had been dusted and aired, the pink chenille spread stretched tight. Maid service. Liz’s photographs were stacked neatly on the vanity table, just as he’d left them, in no particular order. The wrecked plane in the Tiergarten, some DPs off in the corner. Churchill. The boys from Missouri. Another, but not a duplicate,
