D. MacHale - The Never War

When he stepped through the door, the first thing he saw was me. Before I knew it, we had made eye contact. Gulp. Hello, laundry.

“Hey, Buck Rogers!” he shouted with a smile. He wasn’t angry anymore. Phew. “Didn’t think I’d remember, did ya?”

I didn’t. He had only seen me for a few seconds a couple of weeks ago. Note to self: This guy was observant and had a good memory. Be careful.

“Hello, Mr. Rose,” I said politely. “Ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving,” he said. “Follow me.”

I wheeled the cart across to the far side of the foyer and into a room that was even fancier than the entryway. It was a huge, totally swanky living room. The couches were big and cushy, the tables were intricately carved, and there were tons of giant oil paintings with thick gold frames. But the big deal in this room was the view. One whole wall had nothing but floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over Manhattan. It was pretty cool.

Again, all I could think was that gangsters sure made a lot of money.

“Set it out there, Buck,” he ordered, pointing to a large, dark table. ”How many?” He looked at me like I had just asked him how many arms he had. “There’s two of us. How many did you think?”

I then noticed that Ludwig Zell was sitting in an easy chair near the door. The guy looked at me with cold eyes that made me shiver. Was it Saint Dane? If so, he wasn’t tipping his hand.

“Yes sir, Mr. Rose,” I said. I didn’t want to point out that he had more food here than they served to the whole school for lunch at Stony Brook Junior High. Then again, at Stony Brook they didn’t serve steaks and lobsters and salads made with vegetables carved into flower shapes. I kept my mouth shut and set the table.

“So, Ludwig,” Rose said to the German. “I wanted to make this meal special, like a celebration, you know?”

The German stood up and walked to Rose. “You are too thoughtful, Mr. Rose. This is the beginning of a relationship that will be long and fruitful for both of us. And our people.”

This was better than I could have hoped for. I was listening in on these two guys doing business. I didn’t want to finish setting out lunch too quickly so I could hear as much as possible, but I didn’t want to make it look like I was, well, doing exactly that. This was tricky.

“You know, Ludwig, I’ve gone out on a limb for you,” Rose said. “I’ve already started to deliver and haven’t seen a dime from those people of yours.”

“I understand, my friend,” answered Zell. “And we appreciate your trust. Now that we have determined the most efficient means of payment, you won’t have to work on faith much longer.”

“Yeah, but howmuchlonger?” asked Rose. ”Your first payment will be arriving May sixth, as promised,” answered Zell. “You have my word, and the word of my party.”

This was incredible. I was getting all sorts of stuff. Max Rose was doing some kind of work for this Zell guy. But what party was he talking about?

“Hey, spaceman!” barked Rose. “You done or what?”

“Yes sir, Mr. Rose,” I said, and stood at attention.

Max Rose walked toward me, digging into the pocket of his bathrobe. Uh-oh. Did I hear too much? Did he have a gun? Was I about to get filled full of lead?

No. He pulled out some dollar bills and jammed them into my hand. It was my tip.

“Now blast off,” he said.

“Thank you, sir. Enjoy your lunch,” I said, and beat it for the door. I had already gotten more information than I could have hoped for. So while Rose and Zell sat down for their stupid-huge lunch, I closed the door and made a beeline for the front door. I couldn’t wait to tell Spader and Gunny what I had learned.

I was halfway to the door when I saw something that made me stop. It was the door to Max Rose’s office.

It was open and the office was empty.

I knew instantly that I was faced with a huge opportunity. Sitting on that desk could have been more information about the business that Rose and Zell were in. All I had to do was duck in, take a quick look, and get out. Of course, I could also get caught, and rather than leaving through the front door, I could be exiting the penthouse through a window. Next stop: pavement. I had to make a decision, fast. Every second counted.

I did it. After a quick look around to make sure none of Rose’s goons were close, I shot into the office. It was crazy, but I had to.

As soon as I got inside, I closed the door. If somebody happened to walk by, it would be better if they didn’t see a sweaty bellboy flipping through Max Rose’s personal papers. That would hurt. Once the door was closed, I turned my attention to the desk. I wanted to be in and out fast, so I moved quickly behind the desk and looked down at the mass of papers.

I had no idea what to look for. It was just a bunch of business papers, contracts, and lists of figures like an accountant would use. My heart sank. Saint Dane’s plan on First Earth could have been sitting right in front of me and I wouldn’t know it.

I was about to give up and run out when something caught my eye. It couldn’t have stood out more from the rest of the pages if it had a flashing red light on it. First off, it looked nothing like any of the other pages. It was a single sheet with a bold logo on top. That alone would have made my eye go to it, but there was one other thing. It was the logo itself. It was something I had seen before, many times. I’d seen it in movies and in books and on TV. But seeing it now, this way, made my stomach do a flip. I knew what this logo represented. And this wasn’t a movie.

It was a swastika, the crooked cross that was the symbol of the Nazi party. It was surrounded by a wreath, upon which an angry eagle was perched with its wings spread wide. As I already told you, I’m no expert on World War II history, but I knew for sure that this was a letter from Germany and the Nazi party. The big question was, what was it doing on Max Rose’s desk? I did my best to calm down and read the letter. It was short and straight to the point. Dear Mr. Rose:

This letter is to confirm our agreement that the initial payments due to you for services rendered will be arriving in the U.S. via LZ-129 on May 6 of this year and will be available to you immediately. Form and amount of payment is as previously agreed upon. I trust this will be satisfactory and look forward to a long and successful partnership.

Sincerely,

Ludwig Zell

Now I knew what party Ludwig Zell was talking about. The Nazi Party. I couldn’t take my eyes off the paper. It was an actual letter from the Nazis to Max Rose, proof they were doing business together. The frustrating thing was that it didn’t say what kind of business. All it said was that payment was going to be made on May 6 and it was coming via LZ-129…whateverthatwas.

LZ. Ludwig Zell? Were there 129 Ludwig Zells? Whatever it was, it proved that my suspicions about him were correct. He was not only a German dude, he was working for the big bad guys over in Europe. He was a Nazi.

But the most important thing was that I had found hard evidence of a connection between the Nazis in Germany and these gangsters in New York. Suddenly Gunny’s far-fetched theory wasn’t looking so far-fetched. Up until then we only suspected that the turning point on First Earth was about World War II. This piece of paper confirmed it. We already knew there was a link between Saint Dane and the gangsters. Now we had a link between the gangsters and the Nazis. Connect the dots. We were getting closer.

There was no way I could take this paper out of here, so I committed it to memory. No problem. It was short enough that I could remember the most important facts: LZ-129; May 6; payment from the Nazis to Max Rose. Got it.