Tell Me Who I Am

  “Lie to you? Why would I lie to you? I don’t know what you’re trying to say...”

  “Are you still in contact with... with... the British?”

  “For God’s sake, Max! My contact with the British only came from my relationship with Albert James, and the only thing I did was to pass onto them the worries that your group had before the war. And if you want to know, I haven’t seen Albert James since.”

  “You had a good relationship with Lord Paul, and he’s in an important position in the Admiralty.”

  “You surprise me, Max. An intelligent man like you should know that Lord Paul’s trust in me was based on my relationship with Albert. In any case, I’m a little offended by your lack of confidence in me.”

  Amelia turned round, hoping that she had proved convincing. It was difficult for her to lie to Max von Schumann because she was in love with him, and if she acted behind his back it was out of a conviction that Max desired what she did, the end of the war, the destruction of the Third Reich and a new Europe in which the Allies would depose Franco and Spain would be a republic once again. She said to herself that she was deceiving him for his own good, as if Max were a child. Max held to his code of honor rigidly, and for all his contempt for Hitler, he would never do anything that could damage Germany. She didn’t think like he did: She would betray Franco’s Spain a thousand times if it meant she could get rid of the dictator. This was her manner of understanding the notion of loyalty to her country, and the ideas that had brought her father in front of the firing squad.

  “I’m sorry, Amelia, I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “I have never worked for the British, Max, never. I was a messenger, using my relationship with Albert James to help you and your friends in the run-up to the war. You went to England yourself to meet with Lord Paul. You have nothing to blame me for.”

  He hugged her and asked her to forgive him. He was so much in love with her that he could not see the lie in Amelia’s eyes.

  Over the next few days, Amelia found out more and more information from conversations that she had with Max and Major Hans Henke, who seemed to admire Captain Karl Kleist greatly. Kleist himself had left Greece to go to Spain, and had a large number of helpers in the Spanish merchant marine.

  “And the Spanish work openly with... German spies?” Amelia asked ingenuously.

  “Lots of them do it for money; others for ideological affinities, and money. Don’t think that it’s easy; there are also lots of merchant seamen who are Basque and who work for their lehendaraki Aguirre, who is in exile in New York.”

  “And what do they do, all these seamen who work for Aguirre?”

  “The same as the others: They spy, they pass information to the Allies about the contents of the boats, and point out the members of the crew whom they think are working for us; anything that could be useful to the Allied cause.”

  “So the Spanish merchant seamen are a nest of spies,” Amelia summed up.

  “More or less.”

  “And the Basques work for their lehendaraki Aguirre.”

  “Not all of them, some of them work for us. Your lehendaraki has put all the information services of the PNV at the service of the Allies in the hope that, if they win the war, then they will recognize Basque independence.”

  Amelia sent several messages to London via Dion. It wasn’t easy, because the Hotel Great Britain housed all of the German High Command. Dion once missed his work for three days because of the flu, and Amelia had no other option than to go to the cathedral to look for the priest named Yorgos. The first day she had no luck, but on the second she was able to hand over a report, as well as photographs of documents about the position of troops in Crete that Max had in his possession.

  But she was not ready for the new task given to her by Major Murray.

  Dion told her that she should meet Agamemnon immediately: London had sent her some very particular instructions.

  She had not gone back to the Café Acropolis; Agamemnon himself had recommended that she did not do so unless it was absolutely necessary, but it seemed as if that time had now come.

  It was cold and raining, so she wrapped herself in her overcoat and put a scarf on her head.

  “Are you going out, Madam?” the porter asked. “In weather like this?”

  “I can’t stand the rain against my window. A walk will do me good.”

  “You’ll get soaked... ,” the porter insisted.

  “Don’t worry, nothing will happen.”

  She did not go straight to Monastiraki, but wandered through Athens for a while in case anyone was following her. When she was sure that no one was, she headed toward Plaka and then down the little streets into Monastiraki. It was raining heavily, so that no one was surprised to see her turn for refuge into the small café.

  Agamemnon was behind the bar and looked at her without giving any sign that he knew her. A couple of men were playing backgammon at one of the tables, and another was leaning against the bar, apparently absorbed in a glass of ouzo.

  “What would you like?” Agamemnon asked.

  “A coffee would be wonderful; it’s raining a lot outside and I got soaked.”

  “There are days when it’s better not to go out, and today is one of them,” Agamemnon replied.

  Amelia drank the coffee and waited until the café owner gave some sign of wanting to talk to her. But he seemed caught up in organizing glasses and cups behind the bar and paid her no attention.

  “It looks like the rain’s stopping,” Amelia said as she paid for her coffee.

  “Yes, but you’d do well to go home, it will rain again soon,” the man replied.

  She left the café without asking for any explanation. If Agamemnon had made no sign of knowing her then it must have been for a good reason. She went back to the hotel and found Max in a bad mood.

  “I have to go to Crete.”

  “When?” Amelia asked, with a sullen face. “Can I come?” she added.

  “I don’t know, but it’s not a good idea for you to come with me. The Greek Resistance is winning the battle there. There are lots of casualties. They are getting help from the English, who send them weapons and whatever else they might need. Things aren’t going well.”

  “I should like so much to go to Crete...” Amelia put on her brightest smile and tried to look affectionate.

  “I would like you to come with me, but I don’t know if I will get permission, we’ll see. Perhaps, but Captain Kleist will definitely go with me.”

  “Kleist? Didn’t you say he was in Spain?”

  “But he might come back to Athens in a few days. He’s an expert in naval information and the High Command needs him in Crete. It seems impossible, but the British submarines are approaching the coast of Crete with impunity.”

  Amelia listened to him without stopping to wonder why Agamemnon had made no sign of recognizing her. It was not until the next day that Dion, whispering between his teeth, gave her an explanation.

  “One of the men in the bar was a German.”

  “Do they suspect Agamemnon?”

  “It may be that they suspect you. We have to be careful. You have to go to the cathedral tomorrow, there’s an important religious festival; lots of people will be there and you are to meet the priest, he will give you the orders from London.”

  “Why can’t you give them to me?”

  “Everyone has his part to play. You play yours.”

  Max thought it was odd when Amelia said that she was going to the cathedral again.

  “Again? Are you thinking about converting?”

  “Converting?”

  “Yes, stopping being a Catholic and becoming an Orthodox.”

  “Of course not! But I must say that I love their ceremonies, the incense, the icons... I don’t know, I feel happy in their churches.”

  “Be careful, Amelia, there is someone in Athens who does not wish you well.”

  Internally, Amelia gave a start, but she tried not to show anything o
n her face.

  “Who does not wish me well? Why? I don’t know who it could be...”

  “It is Colonel Winkler, an SS officer, a friend of Ulrich Jürgens. He is still convinced that you had something to do with the murder of Jürgens.”

  “But you told me yourself that the Italian partisans claimed that it was they who carried it out, and as you well know, I didn’t rub shoulders with the partisans in Rome,” Amelia said, trying to make a joke out of it.

  “Winkler thinks that it was you who killed Jürgens and no one is going to convince him otherwise.”

  “How long has he been in Athens?”

  “For a few days already, but I didn’t find out until yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you, but in fact we should both be worried. I’ve had a few run-ins with the SS because they refuse to collaborate with some elements of logistics, the supplies of medicine for our troops. They confiscate them for themselves. They won’t let us give medicine to prisoners. We should try to go unobserved, please, for the good of you and of me.”

  “I don’t think that it will compromise us to go to the cathedral. Where’s the harm in that?”

  “Be careful, Amelia, anything will be excuse enough for Winkler to get you arrested.”

  She left, worried and scared by what she had just heard. Was it Winkler who had been in the café? Had he ordered her to be followed?

  When she reached the cathedral she found it so full of people that it was difficult to enter. She asked herself if Winkler might have sent men after her. She hid behind a column and hoped that Yorgos would find her himself. A group of women came to stand near where she was, and this made her feel much more secure. Deeply focused, they prayed with a great devotion. Was one of them a traitor? She rejected the idea immediately when she remembered what the priest had told her the day they met: Greeks always vanquish invaders, no matter how strong and powerful they are.

  The ceremony went by without anyone paying her any attention. She felt woozy with the smell of the incense. She didn’t know how he had got there, but suddenly she realized that the priest was by her side.

  “We don’t have much time, even though those good souls are keeping us covered,” he said, indicating the women who were a closed circle around them.

  “What’s going on?”

  “London wants Captain Kleist.”

  “What do you mean they want him? I don’t understand.”

  “They want to get their hands on him and they want you to help.”

  “But how?”

  “He knows you and trusts you. You can be the hook that brings him to the surface, and then our British friends can grab him. He’s an intelligent and mistrustful person, and he knows too much, so that it’s not just him looking after his own safety, but the whole Abwehr as well. You’ll have to go to Spain.”

  “To Spain? But what excuse will I give?”

  “Your family is there, isn’t it? Well, there’s your excuse. It will be easier to do it there than here. But you have to be fast; the captain is going to go back to Greece, they want him to go to Crete. The Germans are suffering heavy losses on the island and they cannot cope with the boats and submarines that bring weapons to the Resistance.”

  “When would I have to go?”

  “Tomorrow if possible. Ask the baron, he can arrange it.”

  She waited until the ceremony was over, although the priest had already disappeared from her side as stealthily as he had approached her.

  She walked home, thinking about how she could ask Max to send her to Madrid. She realized that a man was following her, but she got back to the hotel without any complications.

  “I’ve been thinking about what you said about Colonel Winkler and I got scared,” she said to Max as soon as she arrived.

  “Scared? I thought you couldn’t feel fear,” he said, joking.

  “Max, I think I’ll go to Spain. Let me go for a couple of weeks, I’ll see my family and maybe this Winkler will forget about me. I may have been wrong, but I think I was followed to the cathedral; on the way back, a man was behind me all the way to the hotel steps.”

  Max could not help showing that he was worried. He was scared of Winkler. It had not been easy to save Amelia from him in Rome, and he would want to get his revenge.

  “It is hard for me to think about separating myself from you, Amelia. You are all that I have.”

  “If you want me to stay?”

  “No, you’re right, it might be better if you left for a while. But promise me you’ll return soon.”

  “I won’t be in Madrid for more than a few days, I don’t want to be away from you.”

  “Alright.”

  She was surprised at the speed with which Baron von Schumann had accepted her request, and at his faith in her.

  He sorted everything out and three days later Amelia left Athens to go back to Madrid in a plane that made stops in Rome and Barcelona.

  From the report that she herself sent to London at the end of the operation, we know that she went home. It was her alibi to justify her stay in Madrid. But on the day of her arrival she got in touch with Señora Rodríguez, who had orders for her about how to run the operation.

  Amparito, Señora Rodríguez’s maid, was surprised to see her when she opened the door.

  “Madam is not receiving visitors today, she’s resting,” she said, like a good guard dog.

  “I am sorry to have turned up without warning, but I am sure that Señora Rodríguez will receive me. I am coming through Madrid and I didn’t want not to come by and see her.”

  The maid hesitated for a few seconds then let her pass, and led her to the salon.

  “Wait here,” she ordered.

  Señora Rodríguez came out straight away.

  “What a pleasure to see you, Amelia!”

  They spoke about generalities until Amparito had left and come back with tea and pastries.

  “Have they told you what the mission consists in?”

  “Just that London wants Captain Kleist.”

  “I know that this man made great efforts to have you removed from Pawiak. Is that a problem?”

  “No, although I wouldn’t like him to be hurt.”

  “We think that he is ‘Albatross,’ the best spy the Germans have in South America. We have been on his trail for two years. We didn’t know who he was. He uses a lot of names. He is a very good spy.”

  “What will they do to him?”

  “Interrogate him, get what information we can from him and nothing else.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “He is in Madrid. Of course, he always goes accompanied; he watches his back and he has his back watched for him: He always travels with two other men.”

  “I thought that the Germans were more relaxed here in Spain.”

  “Spain is officially neutral, but no one misses the fact that it is a country allied to Hitler, and a large part of the success of Kleist’s activities comes down to the fact that the Spanish and the Germans are collaborating.”

  “What does Kleist do, exactly?”

  “You know what he does, he has an intelligence network in South America. He has men everywhere: Venezuela, Argentina, Peru, Mexico... But it’s not just that, he has also set up various import-export companies to provide Germany with vital materials. And he has spies on all the Spanish and Portuguese merchant vessels; sailors who are happy to collaborate with the Third Reich: Some of them because they are convinced Francoists, and others simply for the money. We do the same, of course. We rely on the help of sailors, the majority of them Basque, who bring us information about what the merchant ships are transporting, and if there is some special passenger or other. You have appeared in their reports yourself.”

  “They spy on each other, and both sides know that they do,” Amelia concluded.

  “Yes, it’s like a game in which both teams are trying to score as many goals as possible. Lots of these ships are carryi
ng important materials that are then picked up by German submarines on the high seas. Captain Kleist has personally recruited all his men. He has a great deal of information: names, codes, bank details...”

  “And why haven’t you tried to kidnap him earlier? That’s what the aim of this mission is, right?”

  “It is not easy to get close to him, he’s a professional, he doesn’t trust anyone.”

  “But what can I do?”

  “Bump into him.”

  “Won’t he think it’s odd?”

  “Why? You’re Spanish, your family lives in Madrid, you’ve come to see them, there’s nothing strange about that.”

  “But what do I need to do?” Amelia asked.

  “Get him to trust you, offer to be his guide to the city, teach him everything he doesn’t know about Madrid, flirt with him, he’s a very attractive man and you are an attractive woman.”

  “He is Max von Schumann’s friend, and I have a serious relationship with Max von Schumann,” Amelia said uncomfortably.

  “I’ve only said that you should flirt with him, nothing more. And now let’s talk about the details of the operation.”

  Señora Rodríguez spent two hours telling Amelia the steps she should take until she had memorized all the details. Then they said goodbye.

  “When the mission is over, you will go back to Athens.” It sounded more like an order than a suggestion.

  “I hope so,” Amelia said with a sigh.

  “So it’s best if we say goodbye now, as we won’t see each other again for a long time. Take care of yourself.”

  Amelia’s family had been made extremely happy by her return to Madrid in March 1944, but they were now no longer surprised by her sudden appearances and disappearances.

  The day after her meeting with Señora Rodríguez, Amelia went out for a walk with her cousin Laura and her sister Antonietta. They had convinced her to go out for tea and stroll around the city, which seemed to be waking up for spring.

  The three young women chatted together animatedly and seemed not to be paying any attention to things external to themselves. They didn’t even notice that a swastika flag a few meters ahead of them proclaimed the presence of the German Embassy. Amelia looked absentmindedly at her watch before replying to a comment her sister had made.