Garden of Beasts

German as he keyed.
    Dot dot dash dot . . . dot dot dash . . . dot dash dot . . . dash dash dash . . . dash dot dot dot . . . dot . . . dot dash dot . . .
    Für Ober —
    He got no further than this.
    Heinsler gasped as a hand grabbed his collar from behind and pulled him backward. Off balance, he cried out and fell to the smooth oak deck.
    “No, no, don’t hurt me!” He started to rise to his feet but the large, grim-faced man, wearing a boxing outfit, drew back a huge fist and shook his head.
    “Don’t move.”
    Heinsler sank back to the deck, shivering.
    Heinie, Heinie, Heinie the Hun . . .
    The boxer reached forward and ripped the battery wires off the unit. “Downstairs,” he said, gathering up the transmitter. “Now.” And he yanked the A-man to his feet.
    •   •   •
    “What’re you up to?”
    “Go to hell,” the balding man said, though with a quavering voice that belied his words.
    They were in Paul’s cabin. The transmitter, battery and the contents of the man’s pockets were strewn on the narrow cot. Paul repeated his question, adding an ominous growl this time. “Tell me—”
    A pounding on the cabin door. Paul stepped forward, cocked his fist and opened the door. Vince Manielli pushed inside.
    “I got your message. What the hell is—?” He fell silent, staring at their prisoner.
    Paul handed him the wallet. “Albert Heinsler, German-American Bund.”
    “Oh, Christ . . . Not the bund.”
    “He had that.” A nod at the wireless telegraph.
    “He was spying on us? ”
    “I don’t know. But he was just about to transmit something.”
    “How’d you tip to him?”
    “Call it a hunch.”
    Paul didn’t tell Manielli that, while he trusted Gordon and his boys up to a point, he didn’t know how careless they might be at this sort of game; they could’ve been leaving behind a trail of clues a mile wide—notes about the ship, careless words about Malone or another touch-off, even references to Paul himself. He hadn’t thought there was much of a risk from the Nazis; he was more concerned that word might get to some of his old enemies in Brooklyn or Jersey that he was on the ship, and he wanted to be prepared. So he’d dipped into his own pocket just after they’d left port and slipped a senior mate a C-note, asking him to find out about any crew members who were strangers to the regular crew, kept to themselves, were asking unusual questions. Any passengers too who seemed suspicious.
    A hundred dollars buys a hell of a lot of detective workbut throughout the voyage the mate had heard of nothing—until this morning, when he’d interrupted Paul’s sparring match with the Olympian to tell him that some of the crew had been talking about this porter, Heinsler. He was always skulking around, never spent time with fellow crew members and—weirdest of all—would start spouting hooey about the Nazis and Hitler at the drop of a hat.
    Alarmed, Paul tracked down Heinsler and found him on the top deck, hunched over his radio.
    “Did he send anything?” Manielli now asked.
    “Not this morning. I came up the stairs behind him and saw him setting the radio up. He didn’t have time to send more than a few letters. But he might’ve been transmitting all week.”
    Manielli glanced down at the radio. “Probably not with that. The range is only a few miles. . . . What does he know?”
    “Ask him, ” Paul said.
    “So, fella, what’s your game?”
    The bald man remained silent.
    Paul leaned forward. “Spill.”
    Heinsler gave an eerie smile. He turned to Manielli. “I heard you talking. I know what you’re up to. But they’ll stop you.”
    “Who put you up to this? The bund?”
    Heinsler scoffed. “Nobody put me up to anything.” He was no longer cringing. He said with breathless devotion, “I’m loyal to the New Germany. I love the Führer and I’d do anything for him and the Party. And people like you—”
    “Oh, can it,” Manielli muttered. “What do you mean, you heard us?”
    Heinsler didn’t answer. He smiled smugly and looked out the porthole.
    Paul said, “He heard you and Avery? What were you saying?”
    The lieutenant looked down at the floor. “I don’t know. We went over the plan a couple of times. Just talking it through. I don’t remember exactly.”
    “Brother, not in your cabin?” Paul snapped. “You should’ve been up on deck where you could see if anybody was around.”
    “I didn’t think