Across the salon, Natalie Mauer's face was lined with tension. She stared at Bill Cochrane and now so did her husband. It was an odd stare. Part contemptuous, part fearful, part expectant and hopeful.
Cochrane searched their faces. First his, then hers. And then, from his position across the room, he risked his life.
"I'll be happy to listen to whatever you'd like to tell me," he said. "Then if I can help you, I will."
Cochrane could have bottled the sighs of relief that rose from the Mauers. So, sensing himself on steadier ground, he raised his brandy glass to his lips.
"That's a promise," he said gently, before taking a sip. "A promise between gentlemen, right?"
Natalie’s gaze rose from the floor. “God bless you, Herr Cochrane,” she said. There were tears in her eyes.
EIGHT
It was September 6, 1938, when Thomas Cochrane took a long walk through the woods surrounding the Mauer estate. And it was the first American penetration of the Abwehr.
"You cannot take any notes, coded or otherwise," Mauer informed Cochrane as they walked. "You'll be the object of searches eventually. Everything has to be committed to memory. Everything."
Cochrane nodded.
"You told me once that you did some acting. At a summer playhouse, was it? Massachusetts?"
"Provincetown."
"Then your memory should be trained for names and places," Mauer said. "If it's not, that's your loss. I'm only going through things once."
"I'm ready when you are," Cochrane said.
They were far from the manor house, and it crossed Cochrane's mind that Mauer still might be leading him into a trap. Suppose his two Gestapo babysitters arrived deep in the forest where Mauer, having lured Cochrane into revealing his purposes in Berlin, could hand Cochrane over to them? What had been done to Kurkevics would seem a picnic in comparison.
So Cochrane maintained his guard. He breathed easier when Mauer led them to a shaded area beneath a single tree at the center of a clearing. Mauer was no fool. No one could hear them in this place. Probably no one other than Mauer's dog could even find them. And no one could approach without being seen.
For whatever purpose, Mauer carried his deer rifle. A man could never be too careful, even if venison was long out of season.
They seated themselves under the tree and Cochrane positioned himself in the shade. "Well, then," Cochrane finally said. "School's out. Start at the top. Structure. How much do you know?"
"A lot."
"I'm waiting."
"Yes," said Mauer, "I see that you are."
And then it all poured out, first in a trickle and then in a flood. Mauer had been in the Section Z of the Abwehr, usually called Abteilung Z. Z was the central administrative department. It held the files and coordinated the work of the four other units.
"Anything not in our files doesn't exist," Mauer said boastfully. "We coordinate the work of the other four sections. Colonel Hans Oster is the head of the division. I'm his assistant. There's nothing that doesn't pass right in front of me. But I'm jumping ahead."
"What about the other four divisions," Cochrane asked. "Let's start there."
Mauer obliged, growing more loquacious as the sun rose in the sky.
"The Abwehr is divided into five sections, or Abteilungs. Abteilung One deals with straight intelligence abroad. It is headed by General Pieckenbrock, a close friend of Admiral Canaris himself,” he said. "Abteilung Two is perhaps the most important- and most powerful-section. It deals with sabotage within Germany and abroad. The titular commander is Colonel von Freytag-Loringhoven. But the genuine power within the section is Brigadefuhrer Walter Schellenberg. Schellenberg is a Nazi and a close personal friend of Hitler. Of all five sections, Abteilung Two is the tightest run, the most secure."
Mauer's eyes narrowed. For a moment he watched a small flock of meadowlarks that swooped noisily across the clearing and then disappeared across the treetops.
Cochrane offered nothing, preferring to let Mauer talk.
"Abteilung Three is counterintelligence, run capably by Colonel Hans Bentivegni. There has been little real counterintelligence to date. There has been harassment of certain Jews and foreign diplomats through A3," Mauer declared, "but little substantive work. However, the bureau is well prepared and ready. They receive reports from the SS and the Gestapo. They are empowered to act and won't hesitate."
Particularly in cases like mine, Cochrane thought to himself. "Please continue," he urged Mauer.
"Abteilung Four is open intelligence. Exactly as you'd expect. Reports from missions abroad and military attaches. Newspapers and radio reports. Remarkably effective bureau, considering their product is laid cleanly at their feet."
"And Abteilung Five is yourself," Cochrane volunteered. "Section Z. Central administration, coordination of the other four."
Mauer nodded. "The hub upon which the wheel revolves," said Mauer, reaching for his cigarettes. "Not a bad vantage point, I'd say."
"What about Gestapo and SS?" Cochrane asked. "Abteilung Two, under Schellenberg?"
"Not exactly," Mauer answered. "Gestapo and SS are products of the party. As such, they have remained completely independent of the Abwehr. It's no small difficulty for the non-party members within the intelligence community. Gestapo and SS report solely to Himmler and Goebbels. Abteilung Two has a certain lateral relationship with them, receiving and sending reports. But the truth is that the entire Abwehr attempts to stay clear of them. Nazis, you know. Strong, stupid, and mean-and excellent at following orders."
Cochrane nodded. Then for the next two hours he barely spoke. The entire framework, spirit, and structure of the Abwehr gradually unfolded before him, name by name, place by place, operation by operation.
Mauer opened a bottle of white wine that he had kept chilled in a canvas sack. He brought forth two cheeses, a loaf of bread and some fruit. The men lunched, Mauer talking and Cochrane trying to memorize. Certain visions stuck:
"Canaris remains the rallying point in the government for all those dissatisfied with Hitler. Hitler needs Canaris to administer the Abwehr. No one else is capable. But the generals are loyal to Hitler and would just as soon have Canaris shot…
"Counterintelligence is in its infancy, compared particularly to the British, who have its tradition. Hitler relies on terror at home and military might abroad in place of diplomacy. With enough armament, he feels he renders espionage useless…"
Here Mauer and Cochrane exchanged a smile of irony.
"Ribbentrop, the Foreign Minister, and Canaris despise each other. They rarely miss an opportunity to undercut each other's bureau…
"Abteilung Four insists that the Luftwaffe could destroy the British Navy within five weeks, should Chamberlain blunder the English into a war. General Pieckenbrock at A-1 has suggested that three thousand barges be ready for a Wehrmacht invasion through Sussex. A flotilla of a hundred fifty ships would also be necessary, but these are already commissioned and sailing. I've seen the reports from naval intelligence myself. There is a good chance that Britain could be knocked out of the war quickly, which would effectively end hostilities in western Europe. Then full attention could be given to the Soviet Union…"
One by one, Cochrane picked grapes from a bunch that lay beside the two men. He felt the moisture on the palm of his hands. He wondered idly how he would ever be able to return such a volume of information to Washington. Would he have to send a written dispatch through a diplomatic courier, say through Geneva or Madrid? Or would he have to bear the torch in his own hand?