He finished his wine and left change on the bar. Had he lingered a while longer, he would have met Det. Willoughby walking in the door.
WILLOUGHBY LISTENED INTENTLY as Woody pulled out the Polaroid and then recounted the request made to Prof. Humboldt and the break-in at Nellie’s apartment. Pudge jumped in with his own mea culpa but before Willoughby could comment Woody stopped him and said, “Sorry Pudge. There’s more that even you don’t know about.”
After hearing about Woody’s late-night call and then the diner meeting with Bellows, Willoughby got up and paced back and forth while Pudge sat in stunned silence. When the detective sat down, he looked at both of them and said, “I could run both of you in for interfering with a police investigation.” Pudge detected a slight smile form under the detective’s thick mustache and was emboldened to say “But then you’d have to run the bar until we got out, Hank. Okay, we were wrong but we wanted to help solve the damn mystery surrounding the photographs. And Scatcherd’s death is officially an accident, right?” Willoughby didn’t answer Pudge but instead motioned for Woody to leave them alone.
When Willoughby was confronted with a difficult decision, he had an unconscious habit of working his tongue from one jaw to the other and stroking his chin at the same time. He was doing it now and it unnerved the Irishman. Willoughby suddenly looked up to the ceiling and then scanned the bar, as if he was searching for words. It was not the usual dead-pan look designed to hide his emotions. Finally, he leaned in close to Pudge and said, “I’m inclined to give the kid a pass, Pudge, but I’m surprised and disappointed in you. You should have come to me first. There are other things going on which I can’t talk about. I know your heart is always in the right place but I’m not happy. Yeah, I’ll get over it. Our friendship will survive. Now, let nothing else be said about it, okay? The truth is, I’m going to need some help from both of you.”
Willoughby signaled for Woody to rejoin them and asked, “Where’s that newspaper with the article you wrote?” “I’ll get it,” Pudge said quickly, glad for the opportunity to leave the two alone for a few minutes. “Something special about the girl?” Willoughby asked. “There might have been. Not so sure any more,” Woody said. “It’ll probably work out,” Willoughby offered, trying to sound encouraging. If the detective had known Woody’s history with Nellie Birdsong, he would probably not have been so sanguine.
Willoughby understood the unpredictable, out of character things a man will do when a woman is involved. He would swallow his own indignation and cut Woody some slack, even use his free-lancing detective work to hopefully corner and expose Bellows.
“Now, here’s what we’re going to do,” Willoughby said with a decisiveness that would not be challenged by either Pudge or Woody, both of them sufficiently humbled by their earlier subterfuge and the detective’s tacit forgiveness.
Willoughby agreed that Woody could proceed with Prof. Humboldt and secure any helpful details surrounding the Dumont photographs. Then, as planned, he would make the call to Bellows that evening but only after Willoughby secured approval for recording devices and extension phones to be installed.
“The call will be made from your house, Pudge. And Woody, just to be cautious, you had better stay there tonight. We will assume that whoever is helping Bellows may come looking for you at your apartment. I’ll meet both of you back here later. Give me your house keys, Pudge.” Willoughby had rolled up the newspaper and had been thumping it against the palm of his other hand the entire time he laid out the plans for the evening.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:
The Brandenburg Commandos
WHEN WOODY REACHED Humboldt, the professor sounded excited. “The insignia on his jacket indicates that he was a member of the Brandenburg Commandos, Woodrow. A very interesting group that handled special missions but eventually fell out of favor with the High Command and were absorbed into the SS. I’ve written up a brief summary and my secretary is typing it up as we speak. Shall I send you a facsimile to the same number you used?” Pudge had his ear close to the phone and nodded yes.
“Listen, Woodrow. I’m not sure what this is all about and won’t pry but hopefully you’ll fill me in some day. More importantly, at least to me, it sounds like you have a penchant for historical research. I have a teaching assistantship opening up in the Fall. You should consider coming back to Thorndyke for your PhD. You don’t need to say anything now. Just consider applying and if you decide you’re interested, come up for a visit. Just don’t wait too long.”
Woody was stunned. A historian, eventually a professor? The idea had never entered his mind but he was flattered and did manage to say, “Thank you, Professor. I will definitely be in touch.”
BEFORE LEAVING THE lawyer’s office, Pudge made two copies of the facsimile of Humboldt’s document. Willoughby was certainly justified in keeping certain privileged information from them but Pudge was determined that everything that happened from here on out would be shared with the detective, especially after his magnanimous gesture back at the bar.
Woody and Pudge started reading Humboldt’s summary as they walked back to the saloon. Both of them were fascinated by what the professor had uncovered.
Humboldt described the Brandenburg Commandos as an elite unit within the German intelligence service. They eschewed traditional military tactics and functioned as warrior spies who infiltrated enemy positions. Their missions were often designed to capture roadways and bridges so as to disrupt logistics and communications in advance of German Panzer attacks. They were chosen for difficult assignments because they had the ability to speak their opponent’s language fluently and assume their culture and customs to such a convincing degree that they could easily pass as natives.
The unit was created by Capt. Theodor von Hippel, a master saboteur. Unlike the SS leadership, von Hippel did not seek out recruits with Nordic features who would never be able to blend in with the enemy. Rather, he recruited highly intelligent, self-reliant Germans from the frontier. To complete their missions, his boys learned to assume disguises as diverse as enemy officers, members of Dutch cargo crews or Serbian laborers. In the event of capture, they always wore their uniforms underneath their disguises so as to be treated as prisoners of war. Their exploits were so successful that many Commandos were awarded the Iron Cross commendation and received their accolades in ceremonies attended by the Fuhrer himself.
Capt. von Hippel’s unit was disbanded in 1944 when special operations were no longer seen as vital to the war effort. After the Commandos were absorbed into the SS intelligence apparatus, some members ended up on the Eastern Front in the monumental battles with Russia. Others deserted and were said to have joined the French Foreign Legion and gone off to fight in Indo-China. As masters of disguise, many of the commandos simply disappeared and took on brand new identities far from Germany.
Was the soldier in the photograph with Helga Dumont dead or still on the run? Was he even a Nazi and, if not, was he worth tracking down? Humboldt posed these questions at the end of his summary and closed with an offer to have a professor at the University of Potsdam, with whom he collaborated on several research projects, investigate marriage, birth and death records in Berlin if Woody had names he wanted checked out.
Woody and Pudge were speechless as they stood outside the bar. It was if they had been suddenly inserted into a spy movie and the director had not told them what role to play or what lines to read. They looked around furtively as if a Commando might be lurking anywhere. Pudge broke the silence and laughed, then found his voice and said, “Well, Woody, I’m not sure about you but no one would mistake me for a spook, right?”