At the bottom of each beaker, bubbles had covered corroding discs—Nobel medals belonging to Max von Laue and James Franck. If the Nazis learned Laue had smuggled gold out of Germany, he would have been arrested. And Franck was Jewish.
With Jewish blood himself, Hevesy had entrusted Else with his secret due to her blond Danish looks and her American passport.
Thank goodness, the Germans treated Denmark as a “model protectorate.” The Danish government protected its citizens from the harsh conditions and antisemitic laws seen in other occupied countries.
If the war ever ended and the Germans ever left Denmark, the scientists would precipitate out the Nobel gold and cast new medals.
Else closed her notebook, said goodbye to Hevesy, and left the lab. Time for her appointment with Niels Bohr.
Her fingers danced by her side in anticipation. She cherished the times when Bohr called her into his office to chat.
Three and a half years had passed since she’d arrived in Denmark, but she still thrilled to be at the institute founded by Dr. Niels Bohr himself. Niels Bohr, whose model of the atom had earned him the Nobel Prize. Niels Bohr, whose complementarity principle had inspired Else’s doctoral thesis.
In his office, the Nobel Laureate stood to greet Else, his smile electrifying his heavy-jowled face. Then he glanced over Else’s shoulder to the doorway. “Ah, Wolff.”
Dr. Jørgen Wolff stepped inside. “Good day, Bohr, Jensen.”
Else returned his greeting. One of her favorite physicists, Wolff had been at the institute since Bohr founded it in 1921. About the same age, both men had dark hair—although Bohr had received more salt and Wolff more pepper.
Bohr sat behind his desk under a painting of Danish physicistHans Christian Ørsted from the early 1800s, while Wolff perched his lean frame on the corner of Bohr’s desk.
Else took a seat and fiddled with her lab coat. Wolff’s presence elevated the appointment from a chat to a meeting.
Bohr pointed his pipe at her. “We’d like to discuss your new position.”
Else’s breath swirled in her lungs in expectation. After years of serving as an assistant, would she finally be able to conduct her own research?
Bohr puffed on his pipe. “With your experience on the cyclotron, you’re the perfect choice.”
The swirl stilled. The cyclotron? But her field of research was light. “Choice for...?”
Wolff crossed stick-like arms. “Mortensen’s assistant quit. Said he’d rather teach physics at a Latin school.”
Dread molded around Else’s windpipe. Norup quit because Mortensen harangued him.
“Koch says you’re the best assistant he’s had,” Bohr said. “We need someone good on Mortensen’s team.”
“What do you think, Jensen?” Wolff peered down his nose as if preparing for a childish fit.
What did Else think? She wanted to do her own research. If she had to be an assistant, she’d rather work with anyone but Sigurd Mortensen.
She wove her fingers into a basket so they wouldn’t betray her with an anxious gesture. “What does Mortensen say?”
“Mortensen has no choice,” Bohr said. “We’re short staffed. Since the occupation, scientists can’t come from abroad.”
Else was the only remaining physicist from an Allied country. In 1940, the Germans had interned men from Britain, France, and Poland. But after the US entered the war in December 1941, American men hadn’t been interned. As a woman with dual nationality, Else felt doubly safe.
Her grandparents had urged her to go home to California, but she’d worked too hard for an invitation to the prestigious institute.Besides, she cherished her weekend visits to her grandparents’ home outside Copenhagen.
Wolff sniffed. “You didn’t answer my question, Jensen. What doyouthink?”
Else glanced between the men. At twenty-eight and with no independent publications, she had little standing. To protest would be the height of arrogance. She forced a smile. “I’d be honored.”
Wolff’s mouth turned down—in disappointment?
“Excellent.” Bohr shuffled some papers. “You start tomorrow.”
Wolff leaned closer, resting one elbow on his knee. “You understand Bohr and I don’t mediate personal squabbles.”
