Agent Sheffield picked up a handful of pamphlets and displayed them in front of Kaplan. “Be truthful, son. These are the same pamphlets the Bund members threw down on you, aren’t they?”
Kaplan blinked over and over, his chest heaving.
“Wrinkled, soiled.” Sheffield lifted one of the pamphlets. “And look. This one has a blood smear. What do you want to bet it’s your blood type? Easy enough to find out.”
“I—I—” Kaplan’s breath huffed out. “I thought Bauer—I thought he was guilty. I thought he was dangerous, and you said you needed proof, more proof, and—” He cussed and grabbed his head, his knuckles white.
“And what, Mr. Kaplan?” Agent Sheffield said in a calm voice.
He gestured to the locker. “Look, all I did was put the propaganda in his locker, slipped it through the cracks, but I didn’t plant a bomb. You’ve got to believe me. I couldn’t—”
Shouts rang out from the isolationists, while Kaplan’s interventionist friends backed up, disgust carved into their expressions.
Mary shook her head and forced herself to take notes. He admitted to framing Mr. Bauer? But not to the sabotage? If he were guilty of both, wouldn’t he either deny both or confess both?
“Yes, he could.” Mr. Fiske’s voice rang over the shouts and silenced them. He turned to the FBI agent. “He could’ve planted that bomb.”
The agent dipped his head. “Continue.”
Fiske faced Kaplan. “I’m sorry, Ira, but I won’t cover for you. The day we installed that gun mount, I sent you to the handling room when we were done, to clean up.”
“Yes, but—”
“You were there a long time.”
“Five minutes.” Kaplan spread his hands wide, disbelief warping his features. “Five minutes.”
Fiske turned back to Sheffield, his face solemn. “A lot longer than that. Plenty of time to install that lockbox. And he helped me with the final inspection before theAtwoodshipped out. I left before he did. That must be when he planted the bomb.”
“What?” Kaplan cried. “This is ridiculous.”
The FBI agent cocked his head toward his partner, who stood in the corner.
Agent Hayes slipped handcuffs out of his pocket. “Ira Kaplan, you’re under arrest.”
“I can’t—I can’t believe this is happening.” He held out his arms and didn’t resist the handcuffs. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it.”
Mary couldn’t either, because the devastation on the man’s face proved his innocence.
The FBI agents led Mr. Kaplan out, and the noise in the locker room built again.
“All right, men. Enough.” Mr. Fiske made a patting motion with both hands above the men’s heads. “Simmer down. It’s over. The saboteur’s finally been caught. Now get back to work, all of you.”
After the men filed out, Mary sank to a bench, light-headed. Yes, Kaplan was guilty of framing Bauer, but he wasn’t the saboteur.
The guilty party was still at large.
23
Saturday, September 27, 1941
With creaking of wood and a giant splash, the new Gleaves-class destroyerKnightslid down the ways into Boston Harbor and joined her sister ship, theCowie, launched earlier that day.
Jim and Arch joined the applause, the band played “Anchors Aweigh,” and pennants flapped in the sunshine. All around the nation, Liberty Fleet Day was being celebrated. Shipyards were launching the first fourteen Liberty Ships, mass-produced cargo ships designed to be sturdy, reliable, and quickly constructed. At the Boston Navy Yard, two new destroyers had been launched and two others laid down.
Up ahead, Mary weaved through the crowd in her red dress.
Something constricted in Jim’s chest. Everything about today—except the weather—reminded him of the day he and Mary had become reacquainted. Had it really been six months? Back in March, he’d barely noticed her, and now he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Back in March, he’d thought starting a romance before shipping out would be stupid, and now his greatest regret was not starting the romance before he shipped out this evening.
