Chapter 5
5
Benedict would never admit it, but Ambassador Gerard’s idea to move the American Embassy to a better location had been correct. The old embassy building was small, shabby, and on the outskirts of town.
The new embassy was located on Wilhelm Platz, in the heart of Berlin and a stone’s throw from the German chancellery. Ambassador Gerard had expensive taste, and he selected a palace that once belonged to a German princess for his new embassy. The ground floor featured rococo architecture with plenty of gilt mirrors and chandeliers. The dining room accommodated sixty guests, while the ballroom could host twice that number. It was far more grandiose than any other embassy building paid for by the U.S. government, and Gerard was paying the shortfall from his own pocket.
The new embassy had enough electrical power to triple the number of telephone and telegraph lines into the building. A team of soldiers from the American Corps of Engineers had finally arrived to wire the building and install the new equipment.
Benedict, Ambassador Gerard, and the lead engineer toured the first floor of the palace to determine which rooms were to be wired for telephone service. The first stop was Ambassador Gerard’s private office. Unlike the gilded splendor in most of the embassy, Gerard’s office was lined with rich wooden paneling, bookcases, and maps. A single telephone already sat atop the ambassador’s imposing walnut desk, but naturally, Gerard tried to tell the engineer how to do his job the moment the three of them entered his office.
“I want to keep this telephone for my own use, plus an additional line in my upstairs apartment.”
“Why do you need two lines?” Benedict asked.
“My wife ought to have access to a telephone while I’m using the office line.”
Benedict turned his attention to Lieutenant Carter, the engineer responsible for wiring the embassy. “Lieutenant? How many telephone lines can the building support?”
“No more than eight,” the young man answered.
The ambassador smiled. “See? There shouldn’t be a problem letting my wife have her own line.”
Benedict had to be smart about this. Too many important battles loomed on the horizon to argue over a telephone line.
“I have no objection to a line for Mrs. Gerard, but please be sure her line will support a second telephone for her use in the ground floor reception hall.” Having that second telephone downstairs meant that in the event of war, they could take it over for official business. The ambassador seemed pleased as punch that Benedict didn’t object to his wife getting a dedicated telephone, which was good because the discussion about kicking Inga Klein out of the embassy was still ahead.
They moved into the small room off the ambassador’s office designated for secretarial staff. It currently belonged to Larry Milton, Benedict’s own secretary, and it would be a tight fit to add the ambassador’s secretary.
Gerard frowned as he surveyed the space. “I’m not sure we can fit two telephones and two telegraph machines in here.”
The technician agreed. “Probably not, sir. Could we move one of the secretaries to a different room?”
Benedict cleared his throat. “This is something I’d like to discuss with the ambassador in private,” he said. “Lieutenant, do you mind checking the utility box outside the building to be sure it can be protected from tampering?”
“Of course, sir.” The engineer collected his blueprints and toolbox and left the room.
“What now?” the ambassador asked in annoyance as soon as they were alone.
“The selection of Miss Klein as your secretary is problematic.”
Ambassador Gerard crossed his arms and shook his head. “Miss Klein is nonnegotiable.”
“She’s German.”
“So? I need her.”
Benedict had to remember that James Gerard was still a newcomer and ill-equipped to understand the diplomatic implications of such a choice. He kept his tone carefully neutral as he replied, “I’m not calling her character or qualifications into question, but her nationality gives the appearance of favoritism. We cannot afford it. I would be happy to help select a more appropriate secretary.”
“Like the one I just fired?” the ambassador scoffed. “I need someone I can trust, not someone who gossips behind my back.”
Benedict owed it to the diplomatic corps to defend their integrity. “No one in the embassy spreads gossip.” The ambassador’s previous secretary relayed information whenever Gerard was about to shoot himself in the foot, but that wasn’t gossip—that was common sense.
The ambassador didn’t want to hear it. He turned around to leave the office and wandered into the front hall. The huge space was intended to host formal balls and receptions, although at the moment it was where workers from the corps of engineers stored oversized coils of wire, ladders, drills, and construction equipment. It was an odd contrast to the tall windows draped with gold silk panels and a crystal chandelier twinkling in the morning sun.
Ambassador Gerard strolled to a table crowded with freshly delivered bouquets of flowers for his upstairs apartment. He twisted off the head of a pink carnation and pinned it to his lapel. “If I need to let one of the secretaries go, it’s going to be Larry, not Inga. You are dismissed. I’m taking my wife to luncheon with the Duchess of Mecklenburg.”
Benedict seethed in frustration as the ambassador carried the bouquet upstairs to his apartment. If the Gerards didn’t have such a blatantly loving and affectionate marriage, he’d think the ambassador had an unseemly interest toward Inga. The young woman practically oozed feminine appeal with her delightful figure and bubbly good cheer. Any man with blood in his veins would be attracted to her, which was yet another annoying distraction.
He joined Lieutenant Carter outside to inspect the telephone equipment mounted to the exterior of the embassy.
“Can we ensure the wires can never be spliced by someone tapping the telephone?” Benedict asked the engineer. It might seem paranoid, but a telephone wire anchored outside the building seemed to be begging a spy to eavesdrop on it.
“Not to worry,” the engineer said. “We’ll be covering the entire line with iron cladding anchored to the building all the way up to the ambassador’s apartment upstairs.”
Good. There were spies everywhere in Berlin, and tapping into the ambassador’s telephone line would be tempting.
“Can I ask something?” Lieutenant Carter said as he hunkered down to put his tools away.
“Of course.”
“There’s been a lot of chatter over at the Soldat Barracks.” The Soldat was where the American engineers and Marine Corps who guarded the embassy lived. “When President Wilson summoned Gerard home last month, everyone thought he was going to get the boot.”
So did Benedict. It was a disappointment when Ambassador Gerard returned to his post, but Benedict reverted to a smoothly professional answer. “Given the delicate political situation, I believe President Wilson wished a face-to-face meeting to reiterate the American position on neutrality.”
Lieutenant Carter closed his toolbox and stood. “Everyone was hoping you might get the appointment. You should have had it in the first place. If not for your wife—”
Benedict held up his hand. The less said about Claudia, the better. “That’s all water under the bridge. My job is to make sure the new ambassador carries out the will of the president.”
It didn’t matter that Benedict wanted the ambassadorship so badly he could taste it. He’d spent the last fifteen years serving in diplomatic posts all over the world. Gerard was a novice, which was annoying in the best of times, and could be deadly if a war broke out.
Mention of Claudia haunted Benedict as he set off for Alton House. The damage to his reputation from their disastrous marriage was finally starting to fade, but diplomatic circles were small, and plenty of people still remembered Claudia and those dreadful final years.
And yet he had once loved her. At first, Claudia had been the answer to a prayer. His nomadic childhood following his father to embassies all over the world had been lonely. His mother died when he was a toddler, so Benedict accompanied his father to diplomatic posts in Tokyo, Cairo, and Buenos Aires. There were no English-speaking schools, so Benedict always had a tutor. Maybe he wouldn’t be so lousy at making friends if he’d gone to school instead of mingling only with adults. He’d never had friends his own age and certainly no girlfriends.
At fourteen he was sent to England to finish his education, where British boarding schools weren’t the warmest place for an American boy.
Actually, they were absolutely awful, which was why he yet again failed to make friends. He studied hard to be accepted to college early, and it worked. His first day at Oxford was quite possibly the best day of his life because that was when he met Claudia.
She was captivating, with long red hair that fell in waves down to her waist. Better still, Claudia’s father was a professor of ancient languages, and she enjoyed arcane academic subjects as much as Benedict. She grew up living on a college campus and was the smartest girl he’d ever met. She was beautiful and friendly and smart. Maybe a little spoiled. Her father never paid her much attention, so she sought it out from the young men on campus. By the time Benedict met Claudia, her reputation had been ruined by her penchant for being overly familiar with the men who flocked around her.
He didn’t hold it against her. He knew what it was like to be lonely, but Claudia’s parents were desperate to see her safely married. She was bound to get into real trouble soon, and Benedict was willing.
More than willing. He was enchanted and dazzled and grateful. He and Claudia were both only eighteen, but her parents encouraged the match, and he was eager for it too. After they married, he moved into their home, and all felt right with the world. For a blissful few years, he’d found a family.
What a disaster it turned out to be. His marriage to Claudia nearly destroyed his reputation in the diplomatic community. It was probably why he’d been passed over for the promotion here in Berlin. But one thing was certain: He would never again give a woman the power to trample his heart or destroy his career.