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Back The Radio Operator Save as PDF
Chapters (43)
  1. Cover
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. Acknowledgments
  40. Bibliography
  41. A Note from the Translator
  42. About the Author
  43. About the Publisher

“They made him out to be a refugee. They like signing up people like him. They can do what they want with them and nobody’s going to miss them, you understand? They gave him a bit of training, how to use encryption, how to tap somebody’s phone, but once he got here he just started hitting the bottle.”

“That’s not exactly reassuring.”

“Duquesne was against bringing you on, by the way.”

Now he was paying attention. “Who?”

“Fritz Joubert Duquesne. The elegant gentleman at the Old Heidelberg. You don’t have any training as an agent and aren’t working voluntarily. But we don’t have enough people here who can work a radio. That’s why we’re taking this risk in dealing with you.”

“Risk.”

“Sure. Maybe you’ll get nervous and run to the FBI.”

Josef was silent.

“Duquesne is an old, experienced spymaster,” said Max and he took a seat at the kitchen table with a sigh. “He was working for the Germans as far back as the Great War. He’s been around.”

“Sounds like a great boss.”

“He’s already past sixty. He’s not as gung ho as he used to be, but he needs money. He has a demanding young mistress, and she lives on Central Park.”

“I saw her at the Old Heidelberg.”

“No, you saw Lily. Lily Stein. She’s one of us too. She came here from Germany not long ago. A Jew from Vienna.”

“I don’t get it.”

“We don’t either, to be honest.”

Max pulled out a box of matches and a magnifying glass. Spoke quietly: “Rubber-lined, self-sealing fuel tanks for aircraft.”

Josef hesitated. “That’s what we’re about to send?”

“Fresh from the docks.” He flashed Josef a confident smile. “At least you’ll have enough money soon to move to a better neighborhood.”

“Not at all interested.”

“Don’t you want to make something of yourself? Or do you want to be a nobody, is that it?”

“That’s exactly right. I want to be a nobody,” Josef replied.

17

New York, April 1939

HE RECOGNIZED THE UNEMPLOYED FROM THE FACT THAT they did everything slowly, as if to prolong the few activities that made up their day.

He was sitting in a café not far from the print shop. A glance at the clock—he was meeting Arthur. He picked up the little metal canister and very slowly poured milk into his coffee. He sprinkled some sugar in, stirred thoroughly, and watched the swirling liquid till it grew still. Then he paused.

He was doing everything slowly too. Someone could look at him and think he didn’t have a job either.