The office door burst open. Ira Kaplan barged in and slammed a small metal item onto Sheffield’s desk. “There. You wanted proof. Here’s your proof.”
Agent Sheffield rolled his desk chair back and narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Kaplan, I’m in the middle of a meeting.”
“Oh.” Mr. Kaplan spun to Mary and gave her an apologetic look that turned to curiosity.
Mary lowered her eyes to the empty notebook in her lap. To maintain her cover, she tried not to be seen in the FBI agents’ office. But any harm was already done, and now her own curiosity took over. “Go ahead, Mr. Kaplan. Don’t mind me.”
Agent Sheffield poked the metal disc with his pen. “A German-American Bund pin.”
Kaplan held his chin high. “It belongs to Heinrich Bauer. I saw him drop it.”
“Did anyone else see him drop it?” Sheffield gazed at the young man over the top of his reading glasses.
“No, but—”
“Bauer says you’re framing him, then you show up with a Bund pin with no proof it’s his.”
“No proof?” Kaplan thrust a shaking finger toward the door. “The rat dropped it.”
“I’ll hang on to this and make a note of it, but without any witnesses...” The agent shrugged his slim shoulders.
Out of habit, Mary’s fingers itched to take shorthand notes, but Sheffield was hearing the conversation anyway. Still, she wanted it recorded word for word.
Kaplan’s gaze bounced between Sheffield and Hayes, who hadn’t even faced the young man. He breathed hard, his fingers working at his sides. “Search his locker.”
Sheffield shook a cigarette from a pack. “His locker?”
“Bauer’s. He’s hiding something in there, we all know it. A bomb or something. He keeps it locked—no one else does—and he’s sneaky, shields it from view when he opens it, won’t let anyone look inside.”
In silence, Sheffield pulled out his lighter, lit his cigarette, and puffed it.
Mary held her breath. A man acting sneaky wasn’t hard proof, especially when everyone suspected him of a crime, and yet ... whatwasMr. Bauer hiding?
Agent Sheffield shoved back his chair and stood. “Agent Hayes, fetch Mr. Bauer and meet me at the locker room. And Miss Stirling...” He paused in front of her and bowed his head. “Would you like to come along as my personal stenographer and record these proceedings?”
She sprang to her feet. “Yes, sir.”
He raised one eyebrow at her. “I figured you’d follow me anyway.”
“Perhaps.” She clutched her empty notebook.
The agents put on their hats and departed. Mr. Kaplan led the way, his long legs setting a brisk pace. Mary had to put an extra skip in her step to keep up, almost like walking with Jim.
Except Jim would laugh and chat as they walked, with an easy swing in his step.
Mary followed a set of railroad tracks and gazed out to where theAtwoodwas moored. Perhaps Jim would have liberty tomorrow night and come to church on Sunday. Seeing his encouraging face in the congregation bolstered her. If only he could be with her right now. No matter what happened today, she’d certainly have plenty to discuss with him this weekend.
Mr. Kaplan led Agent Sheffield and Mary into Building 42.
Agent Sheffield paused outside the door to the locker room. “Wait here. I’ll make sure no men are inside.”
While Kaplan paced by the door, Mary opened to a clean page in her notebook. Her stomach squirmed. Although she was excited to be part of an official investigation, her role today might make the men wonder about her note-taking on the docks. Without her invisibility, how could she sleuth?
Agent Sheffield opened the door and beckoned them inside. “All clear.”
Kaplan marched in, past several rows of steel lockers with benches in the aisles. He jangled a small padlock. “Here it is. See—the only one with a lock.”
Mary glanced around. Not quite, but very few did have locks.
