Noel Hynd - The Sandler Inquiry

The next year was 1940. The major European powers were now all in the war. Increasingly, it appeared that the United States would be drawn in also. But meanwhile, the Federal investigation of Sandler had yielded an interesting fact. He hated the Fascists, but he was willing to enrich himself by doing business with them. Secretly he loathed them. This set certain minds to work. No sooner had the first currency fraud case been dismissed than the Government started building another one against Sandler. But this time they had no intention of ever taking it to court.

It was November of 1940. Sandler was on his way into his office building at Nassau and Wall Streets in lower Manhattan. He took one step up onto the curb one morning after crossing the street, when four men in civilian clothes surrounded him. The sleeves of his jacket were grabbed by a man on each side.

A few bystanders stopped to witness the scene. Sandler, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase, was physically picked up by two F.B.I. agents and slammed against the side of a 1939 Packard. He was stunned for a moment. His briefcase had flown from his hand.

He struggled again.

The leader lifted Sandler by his lapels and smashed him against the side of the car so hard that his back shattered the window to the backseat. Another agent opened the car door and Sandler was thrown into the car on top of the broken glass, An agent got in on either side of him. The two others were up front. One had his briefcase. All trace of Sandler had been removed from the sidewalk At the start, Sandler looked on it all as just another painful nuisance. But he began to be genuinely apprehensive when, instead of being taken to the F.B.I. offices on Duane Street, he was hustled into the back entrance of the United States courthouse on Cardinal Hayes Place. An elevator was waiting for him. And moments later he was pushed into a straight-backed wooden chair in a sixth-floor office. A chain-smoking, red-faced man in shirt sleeves sat behind a massive steel desk. The man's name was Archibald McFedrics.

McFedrics didn't exactly speak. It was a low tortured growl.

"I thought I'd save you the trouble of calling your lawyer," he muttered.

Sandler was speechless. Seated silently and uncomfortably across the room was his lawyer, William Ward Daniels.

Sandler looked nervously to his attorney. Daniels obviously knew enough to keep quiet. When Sandler looked back to the huge desk in front of him he was aware of four dossiers in front of McFedrics.

McFedrics looked back to Daniels.

"Tell him why he's here;' he ordered.

Daniels told him. Sandler had been brought to the office of a Special Assistant to the United States Attorney. While the U.S. Attorney was occupied with organized crime and rackets cases, McFedrics headed a separate and more covert branch of the Federal prosecutor's office.

McFedrics's concern was espionage. There were scores of Japanese and German agents operating in and between New York and Washington. To some degree the EB.I. had been able to identify and monitor them. But what whey had been unable to do was infiltrate them at the highest level. That's why Sandler was there.

McFedrics spoke of the Sandler family's place in America, the wealth they had accumulated and how, in the war that was now inevitable, certain Americans of 'questionable' heritage might have to be interned and their possessions placed under state control.

"America must protect herself," mused McFedrics gently.

Arthur Sandler was now terrified. William Ward Daniels continued not' speaking unless specifically asked a question.

"Do you know what these are?" McFedrics finally growled. His fist landed on the four dossiers.

Sandler remained silent.

"Three new currency violation charges against you, Sandler," announced McFedrics with obvious pleasure.

"Plus probably an additional charge of treason ' Sandler's face went white. But as he looked imploringly toward his attorney, he was enough in control of himself to remain silent.

"Trading with Germany has been illegal since 1938" McFedrics reminded the squirming Sandler.

"Just because you've been doing it through a Swiss corporation doesn't mean you can get away with it."

"Absurd" whispered Sandler defensively.

"Think so?" snapped McFedrics.

"We also know how your friend here beat the last set of charges we had against you."

Again Sandler looked to his attorney.

"It's true said Daniels.

"They're planning to charge me-and you -with jury tampering."

"They can't prove any fucking thing," retorted Sandler, suddenly indignant.

But William Ward Daniels only shrugged nervously.

"Theyre prepared to negotiate " said the attorney.

"We should be, too' I McFedrics actually chortled.

"If you can rig a jury, so can we He beamed.

"I'd say we can put you away for thirty years, Sandler.

Maybe forty. And our hotshot mouthpiece here will do seven or eight.

In the bargain you lose your property and your crazy sister lands in a padded room. Think it over,"-he offered calmly.

Sandler looked at McFedrics.

"All right. What do you want?"

"Help "From me? "asked Sandler.

"You want help from me?"

"You and your government are in a position to help each other," said McFedrics slowly.

"You know your way in and out of Germany rather well. You speak the language perfectly. You know German society. German business. Even the military."

"So?"

"So you are in a unique position" said M@Fedries.

"You can contact German agents within the United States. As an American with access to money and power, you can offer help to them.

Eventually, when and if the United States becomes involved in Europe, you will choose to flee. You will return to Germany. And you will continue to work for this government Sandler sat there feeling the screws turn and wondering if it was actually happening. Then he looked at the four F.B.I. agents, his attorney, McFedrics, and the locked door.

"You fucking bastards " he cursed in a low bitter voice.

McFedrics sat down and hauled his feet up onto the desk.

"I'm glad you see it our way," he said.

"After all, it's us or prison. And when it's all over Uncle Sam will owe you a favor or two."

Thomas Daniels's legs were stiff from sitting and listening. The sun outside had vanished under an afternoon's worth of clouds. The Nantucket sky had changed from blue to gray.

"So thirty-five years ago Arthur Sandler was recruited as a U.S. spy," said Thomas.

"And my father could have gone to jail for jury tampering. So what?"

Zenger smiled.

"That's only half of it. Sandler turned out to be an excellent spy, far surpassing anyone's expectations. It's remarkable " he chuckled, 'how the criminal in society is always so patriotic. But then again, Sandler didn't just have a lot to lose. He had a lot to gain."

Meaning?"

"Sandler was, or is, a man of endless ingenuity. He could always emerge from a situation in a position of maximum strength. For example, within one year of the time he was recruited "The end of 1941?"

"Yes. By that time he was the number-two German intelligence agent in New York. And he had the perfect cover. A third-generation American businessman with a chunk of the established order in America. But Sandler was never content in a subservient role. And yet he could only move up to be head of New York operations if tragedy should befall Karl Hunsicker, the number-one agent. So Sandler studied Hunsicker. He learned the man's habits. And he arranged the perfect accident."

Zenger cleared his throat. A slight smile crossed his face as he continued.

"Hunsicker was a meticulously clean man who bathed before midnight each evening. Lived in a duplex floor through in an old apartment building at Eighty-fourth and Second. In the bathroom there was a large electric heater, equipped with a cone-shaped wire coil at its center.