“Except that you are an American.”
Captain Boyle and Admiral Payne worked their way over to Lady Hightower’s table.
“Life is too short to drink cheap beer.” A short bearded man seated next to Lady Hightower declared as he lifted his glass to Payne and Boyle, then scrutinized the foam. Lady Hightower noticed the two officers standing in front of their table waiting to be introduced.
“Am I late for the boat?” She asked looking at them, then pointed to the warships docked at the distant piers.
It took Admiral Payne a few seconds to realize he was being put on. He smiled. “Lady Hightower, please excuse me. I am Admiral Payne, and my colleague here, Captain Boyle from the United States, was fascinated by your ability in the occult and wanted to make your acquaintance.”
“The United States?” Ella looked at the young Captain with interest. “I see, well, dear Captain, what part of the colonies are you from?”
“Boston, Lady Hightower.”
“Oh, please, Captain, all young, handsome, dashing men may call me Ella.”
Ella motioned both men to be seated.
“Admiral, Captain, my I introduce you to my husband, Lord Everton, and to my dear, dear friends, Dana, Lisa, and Marcy.” The naval officers returned pleasantries while seating themselves.
“Now, what is it about the occult would you be interested in, Captain?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but observe you reading the hand of the General there… my grandmother read palms.”
“Grandmother, mmmm…” Ella said while taking the Captain’s hand into hers and slipping her glasses down to almost the bottom of her nose. She studied his left hand intensively and after a few moments, raised her eyebrows.
“May I see your other hand, please, Captain?” Ella’s voice had changed dramatically. Throughout afternoon tea she had spoken with a high, almost shrill-like tone that was easily distinguishable from the dull monotones of the room’s normal chatter of conversations. She now spoke in a very low, deep voice – lower than her husband’s – as if possessed by another personality. “Ah, yes…” She said after further study. “I see.”
Captain Boyle looked up to Payne and was about to flash a smile, but refrained when he saw the seriousness of the Admiral’s face.
“You are the youngest in a rather large family, a family with a lot of responsibility.”
The Captain bit his lip.
“You are married with one, hmmm, soon to be two children.”
“I have a two year old and a second one on the way… my wife is pregnant.”
“The second child will be a girl, Captain.” Ella said matter-of-factly. “Captain, you are a musician, a wonderful musician, why are you not playing?”
The Captain’s mouth hung open. After a moment he finally managed to arrange words with it. “The Navy is a family tradition.” He did not add in that statement the many fights occurring with his father in his trying to break that tradition, in order to play his saxophone professionally for which he had many offers.
“You have a good mind for planning and strategy… you should play chess with my husband.” Ella returned the Captain’s hand to him.
“Man!” The Captain could not hold back his amazement. Known only to him and Ella, she was dead correct on every fact she mentioned. “I do play chess.”
Ella looked over at the Admiral, then to her husband.
Lord Everton then eyed the Admiral, as if making a scientific study of him, then turned to Ella but kept his eyes directly on the Admiral. “Not all chemicals are bad.” Lord Everton said returning his eyes to Ella. “Without chemicals, we wouldn’t have the vital ingredients for beer.”
Payne and Boyle looked at each other not knowing what to reply.
“There is something troubling you, deeply, Admiral,” Ella broke the silence, “are you missing a family member?”
“I have, my son disappeared a while back on in the Netherlands. There is no word on whether he is alive or not.” Current events allowed the Admiral to reveal this information in public. It still was not to be revealed he was on a secret mission across the German border.
“Mark?” Ella looked over to her husband.
“The problem with this world is that everyone is a few drinks behind.”
Captain Boyle was beginning to feel uncomfortable with the seemingly absurdity of Lord’s Everton’s comments. “I’m sorry, what do you mean, a few drinks behind?”
Boyle, puzzled, looked to Payne. “I mean, is this British slang, or something?”
Lord Everton continued to look at the Captain with the oversized smile of a lunatic.
“Admiral Payne.” This was the first time Ella used the Admiral’s name. “My husband senses that there is something more behind your son’s disappearance.”
Payne looked at Lord Everton, who returned the look and began nodding.
“Reality is an illusion that occurs due to the lack of alcohol.”
“My husband is saying that it is the lack of information, or the fact that information was hidden on purpose, is the reason your son disappeared.”
Payne sat back.
“Was your son involved in a secret of sorts, or his mission relied on a secret?”
“I would like to give you more information concerning this matter, Lady Hightower, but I am afraid I am not permitted to.”
“I see. I perhaps have a solution to your problem of information, Admiral Payne…” Ella turned to a servant cleaning a distant. “Martin.” She said sweetly in a loud whisper.
Immediately the waiter was at attention before the table.
“Yes, Lady Hightower?”
“Will you please bring me a pot of tea, some of my special blend, if you will be so kind.”
“At once, m’Lady.”
“Is it not an odd coincidence they make contact, just before our move into France? I think the girls found out something at Goebbels’ secret retreat meeting, and set something in motion.” It was the General’s job to look at all possibilities in finding and predicting espionage.
“Yes, quite possible. How is Herr Huber connected to these girls?”
“He is Bettina’s lover, but facts suggest he is more than his profession claims. We are not finished with his background investigation, since there are some problems with his records.”
“Problems?” Lt. Kriederman was not used to hearing this word from the General.
“Apparently his, among others in his birth district, had all their birth and school records destroyed by a fire at their Meldung building in Danzig.”
“Interesting.” Kriederman was assuming this happened at the start of the war in 1939, with the German battle ship Westerplatte’s bombardment of the Polish city of Danzig. “When?”
“In 1935. Actually it was the SA who started the fire. Seems they firebombed a Jewish synagogue and the fire spread to the Post Office and the Meldung buildings next door.”
“So when does Otto Huber begin to exist officially?”
“In 1935, with his graduation from Hamburg University in radio technics. “I’ve had him followed since the Gestapo in Hof gave me his number, and there are people now in Danzig trying to see about him before 1935.”
Kriederman thought for a moment.
“Anything at all from Danzig?”
Both men paused, reflecting the stories they heard of the German occupation of this historic city, where Germans and Poles used to live together in harmony side by side.
“No, nothing. The city, as you know, is still a mess – half the town is gone and the other half is dead.”
“And his activities in Berlin?”