It was the only moment that fit the slumped shoulders, and Josef had felt sorry for him. It was a better feeling than the uneasiness Max made him feel every time he said something about Germany and looked at Josef with that cold gaze of his.

14

New York, March 1939

AS PROMISED, THE NEXT TIME HE CAME, MAX BROUGHT someone with him. The man slunk past him with his eyes lowered, mumbled, “Ludwig,” and vanished into a corner.

Poorly shaven, a bright bald spot, wrinkled suit, somewhere around fifty. He seemed determined to act as if he wasn’t there at all, but in so doing he drew even more attention to himself. Josef asked if he wouldn’t rather come sit with them; the man said no. Josef brought him a chair. The man took a seat, brought out a book wrapped in brown paper, and ran his left index finger down the lines, taking notes with his right hand. This was the guy who did the encryption? When Josef got closer, Ludwig quickly slammed the book shut and smiled. He had the glassy-eyed look of a drunk.

“Where’d you dig him up?” asked Josef as Max followed him into the kitchen.

“Ritter has total confidence in him. Go ahead and ask him yourself.”

Ludwig spoke very little, and when he did it was so garbled that Josef soon got tired of having to ask him to repeat himself. After several attempts he was reasonably sure that Ludwig had worked as a bookseller at the Germania bookstore in Yorkville, had lived in America for a few years, and was now glad to have a new job. What had he done when he lived in Germany? Ludwig mumbled something that sounded like “a little of this, a little of that.” Leaning back in his chair, Ludwig sometimes closed his eyes. It wasn’t clear if this was from sleepiness or concentration. And it was just as easy to imagine that he didn’t shut his eyes completely but rather was secretly looking around the room.

Again Josef needed only ten minutes to transmit the columns of numbers. Again he had no idea what he was sending.

When it was time for a break he put on Billie Holiday.

“More jungle music today, huh?” sneered Max and threw two ten-dollar bills onto the table. Josef put the bills in his pocket. The next scheduled transmission was in half an hour. The men had made themselves comfortable on the couch, petting Princess and blowing smoke into the air.

“You got anything to eat? We’ll pay extra.”

“Why don’t we go out?”

Ludwig and Max exchanged glances.

“How about you go pick something up for us?”

“What am I, your nanny?”

“We don’t have enough time. Here, two dollars, now go and pick something up for us. Please, please, dear Josef.”