Dan Fesperman - The Arms Maker of Berlin

Today most people knew the Bauer name from coffeemakers, televisions, and aircraft components. But it was the company’s dealings in a more arcane line of products that had attracted the FBI’s interest. Or so Nat concluded from a series of hits on Web sites tracking nuclear proliferation.

In the 1970s a shipment of Bauer jet nozzles was used to help enrich uranium for South Africa’s nuclear bomb program. In the ’80s and ’90s, Bauer plants provided isostatic presses, vacuum furnaces, and specialized tubing to shady middlemen, who in turn funneled the parts to Libya, Israel, and Iraq.

Most of the Web sites had an axe to grind, and several tried to imply that Kurt was an unreconstructed Nazi. It didn’t take a professional historian to see that their case was half-baked. Kurt’s dad, Reinhard, had certainly been a card-carrying member, and he had employed slave labor in his wartime factories. But even Reinhard joined the Party late, which suggested opportunism more than zeal. It was the same reason he later tried to curry favor with Dulles-because it was good for business. If the man were alive today he would probably be working for an outfit like Halliburton, cutting deals with dictators and then helping to engineer their downfall. Whatever paid the bills.

Other critics tried to damn Kurt by association with his older brother, Manfred, who had served with a Wehrmacht unit implicated in some atrocities on the eastern front. But Manfred was killed at Stalingrad, and Kurt himself had been too young for the army during most of the war. According to the sketchy biographical record on the Internet, the Bauer family fled to Switzerland when Kurt was eighteen. That must have been when he met Gordon, if Berta’s information was credible. Maybe the archives had the answer.

It was in more recent decades that the Bauer nuclear dealings had become most interesting. In the late ’90s the company supposedly helped ship heavy water to North Korea and Pakistan. That transaction linked Bauer for the first time to A. Q. Khan, the father of Pakistan’s A-bomb program and an infamous supplier of nuclear know-how to several rogue nations. The Bauer-Khan partnership continued through further transactions in parts and technology, according to the proliferation Web sites. Each deal was more damning, but Bauer’s role became progressively harder to pin down. As a result, investigators for the German government hadn’t yet laid a glove on him.

They came close in 2004, after centrifuge components in Bauer crates were seized aboard a German freighter en route from Dubai to Libya. Bauer again managed to wriggle off the hook, but a few months later he retired as chairman of the family companies. His timing suggested he had brokered a deal to avoid further scrutiny, and one of the more strident Web sites commented: “Of all the Western industrialists tainted by tawdry connections to this ruthless field of endeavor, Kurt Bauer may well be the one with the most intimate knowledge of its innermost secrets and nefarious web of contacts.”

Melodramatic, perhaps, but it certainly explained the FBI’s current interest in currying favor with the man. Bauer’s Rolodex alone would be a valuable weapon in trying to dismantle the black market in nuclear materials, much less the man’s insider knowledge. The flip side was that any nation aspiring to build a bomb would also covet the information, and that seemed to narrow the possibilities for Holland’s “competition” to Iran or Syria, especially since the FBI was seeking a Middle Easterner. Probably Iran, given the current state of play.

Sobering news, to say the least. Competing with historians who might retaliate with a nasty review was one thing. Going up against an Iranian spy was quite another, especially if Nat ventured abroad, where Holland would be less able to protect him.

He realized his palms were sweating on the keyboard. Calm down, he told himself. You’re working for people who know all about this stuff. Surely they would warn him if things got too hazardous, right? It seemed like an appropriate time to check in with Holland. The agent picked up on the first ring.

“You should have told me the competition was Iran,” Nat said.

“Is this your idea of a progress report?”

“So you’re not denying it.”

“Sorry, I’m not hearing you well. Maybe I should call back.”

“I thought you’d at least be impressed that I’m doing my homework.”

“Point taken. I assume the storage locker was a dry hole.”

Nat mentioned his theory that Gordon had smuggled the folders out in his pants. He suggested that Holland have someone scan the surveillance video from that day forward to check for a return visit-by Gordon or anyone else.

“Good idea.”

“Where are you now? What’s all the hammering?”

“Gordon’s summer house. We did a top-to-bottom. They’re nailing the paneling back in place.”

Ouch. Yet another grievance for Viv.

“Find anything?”

“A box of your books, actually.”

“The one in the attic?”

“How’d you know?”

“I, uh, Viv told me.”

“Sounds like you did some poking around the other night. I also recall you leaving the house with a box.”

“Like I told you. A guest list, a few keepsakes.”

“Don’t remember you mentioning any keepsakes.”

“You’re right. This connection is terrible.”

“Whatever you say, Turnbull.”

“I need a favor.”

“Try me.”

“I want someone to keep an eye on my daughter. She moved into my house today for the summer. She got a hang-up call from my cell phone, the one I left in the library. Guy with a foreign accent.”

“Relax. We’re a step ahead of you. We’ve got her covered.”

“So you’re saying it had already occurred to you that she was in danger?”

“I’m saying you have no reason to worry. We’re on it.”

“If you’re ‘on it,’ then how come you didn’t get my cell phone back? You were going to go pick it up when the doors opened.”

“Our man was the first one in the library the next morning. It was already gone.”

“Meaning someone else must have been there when Neil Ford came for me.”

“Draw your own conclusions.”

“Why do I get the idea you’re downplaying the danger?”

“Am I?”

“This Middle Eastern character, for one.”

“He’s our concern, not yours. And do me a favor. Get yourself a new cell phone. You need to be accessible 24/7.”

“Tomorrow, if there’s time. I’ll be at the archives all day.”

“Happy hunting, then. I’ll await your call.”

Not exactly reassuring. Nat needed to know that Karen was okay. He tried her cell and got a recording. Then he called his house. When she didn’t pick up after three rings, he began to panic. She answered on the fourth.

“Karen?”

“There you are. I was worried about you.”

Likewise, he almost said. But he didn’t want to upset her.

“I guess you heard about Gordon.”

“News of the day here. I’m sorry, Dad. It must be horrible for you. Especially after the way he was outed in the Wildcat.”

“Not how he wanted to go out, that’s for sure.”

“How’s Mrs. Wolfe?”

“About like you’d expect. I offered her a ride to Wightman, but her sister was driving down.”

“Where are you, then?”

“College Park. Via an afternoon in Baltimore.”

He told her about the odd visit to the storage locker. He didn’t mention Berta.

“So you’re saying he really was, like, a thief?”

“Looks that way.”

“Then maybe his little divorce from you was, like, a favor. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be trashing him. This must be hard.”

“Well, at least he left me with something to do. I may be on this for a while. The FBI wants me to follow up, see if I can find the material that’s still missing. Apparently the stakes are a little higher than I’d thought. Not that you should breathe a word of this to anyone, especially strangers.”