Quantum

54

Shortly after the flight lifted off from Detroit Metropolitan Airport, Kilkenny fell into a deep and much-needed sleep. Seated beside him in business class, Cooper made a series of phone calls, then nursed a Bloody Mary.

The clatter of the beverage cart awoke Kilkenny. He yawned, checked his watch, and looked out the oval window. The sky was clear and dark; the Atlantic spread out calmly beneath them, shimmering under the light of a gibbous moon.

‘How are you feeling?’ Cooper asked as he traded his empty glass for a full one.

‘Like I could use another day in the sack. How about you?’

‘I’ll sleep on the flight back.’

‘Would you like something to drink?’ the flight attendant asked.

‘An orange juice,’ Kilkenny replied, his mouth thick, as if it were packed with wet cotton.

After Kilkenny received his drink and a couple of packages of peanuts, the flight attendant moved on.

‘Bart, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘You mentioned that after Wolff’s body was found, you ran a background check on him. Why?’

‘Professional curiosity, mainly. Wolff worked for the Germans during the Second World War. After the war he wanted to emigrate to the States. I was with the OSS back then — I’m the guy who checked Wolff out and certified he wasn’t a Nazi. When the story about his body being found hit the papers, the computers at Langley picked it up and matched it with the report I wrote back in ’forty-six and sent me a notice. Wolff’s murder looked enough like an execution for me to wonder if I’d missed something when I vetted him, so I took another look.’

‘Did you find anything?’

Cooper stared down at the ice in his glass.

‘Yeah, I found out he was an okay guy.’

‘When Cal found out you were both looking into Wolff’s background, why didn’t you just turn over what you’d found? He had an active investigation, and no offense intended, you’re a few years past field-duty age.’

‘That’s a polite way of putting it, and you’re right, I have a quasi-retired status with the Agency. I hung on because I thought I could give Cal a hand. I know a few well-connected people in Russia, and that’s where his investigation seemed to be pointing. I thought I might be of some use.’

Kilkenny nodded, taking in what Cooper had said.

‘Bart, I don’t mean to sound like I’m suspicious of your motives, because my gut and Cal Mosley both say I can trust you. So, given that you’re on my side, all the reasons you cited still don’t add up to why you personally are doing this. You’re over seventy years old; you’ve done your bit for flag and country. It just seems to me that you have a deepseated passion for this case, something that’s stronger than I would expect, given that you first heard about any of this just two days ago.’

Cooper remained still for a moment, not responding to Kilkenny, just staring blankly ahead at the projection screen.

‘At my age, there’s this inner need to know that you’ve done some good with your life. If you have, then you’re content. If you haven’t, you try and make up for it somehow. After the war there was a lot of intel work to do. There were war criminals to track down, evidence to collect. In the OSS, we were concerned with scientific information. We wanted to find everything the Reich had been working on — rockets, jet propulsion, atomic energy — before the Soviets did. We probably got a sixty-forty split with regard to people, records, and equipment. Some of the scientists we recovered were, without a doubt, Nazis. A few should have been tried as war criminals for the things they were involved in, but they weren’t for reasons of national security. Instead, they got a free pass to America, where we put them to work on our weapons.’

‘Moral expediency.’

‘More like immoral expediency. I interviewed a few of these scientists, and they were proud of what they’d done. If people had died, that was acceptable in the advancement of their work. Watching these evil men go off to a pampered life in the States after what we found in the death camps made me sick. As both a human being and a Jew, I found the hypocrisy intolerable. While I was stationed in Germany during the occupation, I became involved with a group of European Jews seeking justice against their former persecutors. They were known as the Nokmim — the Avengers — and they took it upon themselves to root out every war criminal they could find. On several occasions I provided them with evidence that justified action against specific individuals; some were German scientists and engineers who’d been captured by the Western Allies.’

‘Was Johann Wolff one of these German scientists?’ Kilkenny asked, sensing where this story was leading.

‘Yes. In 1947 some documents were found that implicated Johann Wolff in war crimes. The evidence was thin, but enough for the Nokmim to put a death sentence on Wolff’s head. By this time, Wolff was already in the U.S.’

‘So they sent an assassin here to kill him?’

‘Not an assassin, an executioner. A Nokmim tribunal found Wolff guilty in absentia of crimes against humanity. Justice needed to be served. I was the one sent to administer Wolff’s sentence.’

‘You killed Johann Wolff?’ Nolan moved up in his seat, his face now only a few inches from Cooper’s.

Cooper nodded, a lump swelling in his throat. He closed his eyes for a moment to quell his emotions.

‘I’ve killed a few men over the course of my life, Nolan, but none haunt me like Johann Wolff. As I said, the evidence against Wolff was thin and I did not feel it was conclusive. Regardless, a sentence of death was pronounced. When the time came for me to return to the States, I was given the task of bringing justice to Johann Wolff. Through my new job in the fledgling CIA, I was able to locate Wolff in Ann Arbor. In watching Wolff, I could not imagine how this man could have been the monster described in the documents that led to his conviction. He was living a quiet life. He was in love. I struggled with myself over these contradictions, but in the end my sense of duty overrode my desire for the truth. On the tenth of December 1948, I attacked Wolff just outside his office, murdered him, and concealed his body.’

Cooper flagged down the flight attendant for another drink. He waited until she was gone before resuming his story.

‘After that, I went on with my life. I had a wife, children — all the things that I’d deprived Johann Wolff of. I was haunted by him, because I wasn’t sure that I’d done the right thing. This uncertain guilt was something I thought I’d take to my grave. When Wolff’s body was found, I decided that for the sake of my soul, I needed to know the truth about him.’

‘What did you find?’

‘I found that Wolff wasn’t what the Nokmim thought he was. I learned that he was a decent man, a brilliant scientist who had a great deal to offer. I found a man who put himself at great risk to prevent Germany from developing the atomic bomb. Wolff may have been the greatest hero of the war. And’ — Cooper’s voice cracked — ‘I found that I had murdered this innocent man, in cold blood. Wolff wasn’t guilty of any crimes against humanity, but by depriving the world of Wolff’s potential genius, I am.’

Cooper sobbed quietly for a few minutes. Kilkenny was thankful that the darkened cabin provided at least some measure of privacy. In hearing this story, Kilkenny felt like a priest in a confessional, though there was no absolution he could give to ease Cooper’s guilt.

‘The debt I owe Wolff I can never repay.’

‘Then why are you doing this?’ Kilkenny asked.

‘Because after more than fifty years, I have been given the opportunity to set a small part of this right. Wolff was a scientist, not a Nazi. He worked for the Germans because he simply had no choice in the matter. Lara Avvakum is in precisely the same position; she’s working for Orlov because he has a gun to her head. The Allies freed Wolff, but who is going to free Avvakum if we don’t do it? People like her and Sandstrom are Wolff’s heirs; they seek the truths that can change the world.’

Kilkenny nodded as the link between Cooper’s past and the present became clear.

‘I’m also doing this because I want to recover Wolff’s notebooks. They are a record of this man’s lifework, his legacy. If Wolff was as brilliant as you have come to believe, then these notebooks are proof of his genius and must be brought out into the open. In Orlov’s hands, they might as well still be buried in the ground. That’s why we have to get them back. I can’t undo what I did to the man, but maybe I can do something for his memory.’