Shining Through Page #2

you're not a Nazi spy.

He must like you,

you make him laugh.

She'll be fine. Could you stand

up and turn around, please?

- Why should I do that?

- Because you want the job.

And I asked you to.

Is a test I like to give.

Well, I'll take it sitting down.

What I was gonna ask you to do

is stand up, turn around,

close your eyes and tell me what

you see here. Is an observation test.

Now, do you really have

a problem with that?

Pictures of sailboats and polo ponies,

fancy books and diplomas,

stuffed fish on the wall,

calendar set to the wrong date,

bookcases that need dusting,

carpets that need cleaning.

And two Harvard guys who are

surprised a girl who needs ajob

won't be treated like a slave.

Are you always like this?

Forgot to tell you,

my other half's Irish.

Lethal combination.

It didn't take me long to sense there was

more to Ed Leland than met the eye.

In February of 1940,

one of the switchboard girls

accidentally tapped into his private line,

and heard a voice that she swore

was Franklin Delano Roosevels.

In March, Jimmy in the mailroom caught

sight of a sealed document on Ed's desk,

- Addressed to J Edgar Hoover.

- Hi, Jimmy.

In April, Ed's staff started interviewing

recently arrived German refugees

to get details about life

in Hitler's Germany.

And by fall of that year,

Ed Leland's whereabouts were

completely unpredictable.

He'd vanish for

weeks at a time,

returning as abruptly

as he'd left,

to dictate letters that

made no sense at all.

Naturally, it set a girl's

mind to wondering.

Please report that my wife

Sunflower and I and her...

new dog Rover

just returned

from the seashore,

where we saw a flock

of birds-sea birds.

A flock of 14 sea

birds diving for fish.

Excuse me, are those pelicans?

You said they were diving.

I've asked you not

to interrupt me.

Sorry, Mr Leland,

but the German language is very specific.

You wouldn't say seabirds,

you would say pelicans.

Unless, of course, this is

all just some kind of code,

in which case you should just tell me,

so I'd stop bothering you

Why would you say

something like that?

No, I'm curious.

Why?

Well, your wife's name

is not Sunflower.

You don't even have a wife.

I mean, not one that

I know of anyway.

Therefore you assume

that this is all a code.

I don't have to turn around

to see that your overnight bag is full

of woollen sweaters and heavy socks.

Not exactly the kind of thing

you take to the seashore.

At least not a

vacation-type seashore.

More like the

English Channel, I'd say.

- Anything else?

- No.

- OK. Where were we...?

- Except that the code is a dead giveaway.

I mean, 14 birds diving for fish!

Is obviously a fleet of 14 submarines.

You're gonna get caught

with a code like this.

The Germans

aren't stupid, Mr Leland.

My God, they do it better in movies. Did you

see Espionage Agent with Brenda Marshall?

No.

When she talked about submarines,

she talked about her "rose garden".

- Her rose garden?

- Yeah. So there'd be no connection.

And for airplanes,

she talked about figs and dates.

Figs and dates?

Figs were Fokkers and dates...

I can't remember

what dates were.

Well, I guess I'd better go to the

movies to see how they do this.

My wife,

Susan, who I call Sunflower.

This was taken a year before I put

her in a sanitarium in Switzerland,

a mental institution,

which I visit often,

and which I'm afraid

that she'll never leave.

D'you understand why is easier for me to let

people think that I have never been married?

I'm sorry.

- God, I feel so stupid.

- No, is... is all right.

I feel so stupid that

I don't understand why I can't

make carbon copies of your letters.

Or why I have to turn in my steno pad

for a new one each time I've finished.

Or why I type endless letters,

but never envelopes,

so that I don't know

where they're going to.

Last time I was in Switzerland,

I asked a psychiatrist the same thing:

"Why is it that I don't

trust anybody?"

He thinks it has something

to do with my upbringing.

You're a spy, Mr Leland.

And you've seen too

many movies, Miss Voss.

Enough to know a

spy when I see one.

And about this photo?

The woman's name

is Jennifer Krimm.

A model you were never married to,

but only dated.

Before you met

Kiki Avondale, that is,

a Vassar graduate you were engaged to

for six months before you got cold feet.

This is outrageous.

This is... This is...

I don't have to listen to this any more.

This is simply and totally...

How do you know

all these things?

I might be a better

spy than you are.

By late October of 41

London was reeling under a hailstorm

of German bombs called the Blitz,

and life in America was energised with

the knowledge of what was inevitable.

Young men were disappearing late at

night and signing up for the draft.

Glenn Miller was pumping out dance music

while there was still time to dance.

And Ed Leland had cast

his eyes in my direction.

For us, like the war,

it was just a matter of time.

- Krbis.

- Der Kr...

I can't! I can't speak German.

I can't get the accent thing.

- At least I made you laugh.

- Yes, you do do that.

- Is that a hard thing to do, make

you laugh? - Well, serious times, Linda.

All the more reason.

Charlie Chaplin says

"A day without laughter is a day wasted. "

You believe that?

Yeah.

I try to laugh once a day,

just in case.

Do you like Charlie Chaplin?

To be quite honest,

I've never seen him.

- You're kidding!

- No.

- Well, what are you doing tonight?

- Tonight?

Tonight I have tickets

for the opera.

- Really?

- Yeah.

- I've never been to the opera.

- Oh?

- Whas it like?

- Well, is not for everybody. Is...

See, thas the thing about Chaplin.

He is.

- You really like Chaplin?

- Mr Leland...

Why don't you call me Ed?

Ed.

...a depot and

a central station.

There are six railroad goods yards

and three main-line stations.

Einen Riesenschornstein.

Right near a large...

- How would you say Schornstein?

- Linda?

Me?

I don't speak German.

Ja.

Church steeple.

Can we take a break

for a moment?

Schornstein is smokestack,

not church steeple. Translator's been lying.

Linda, the man has been working

as a translator for years.

Yeah. Well, he started out

by making little mistakes.

And when nobody noticed,

the mistakes started getting bigger.

It does not make him a liar...

He tripled the number of railroad lines

coming into the city!

One sentence involving a munitions plant...

He left that one out altogether.

What is he?

A double agent?

Right here in this office?

- What you do to him?

- Stop using him as a translator?

- How'd you know to stay quiet?

- The Fighting 69th.

- Brenda Marshall and Cary Grant.

- I see.

They cut out his tongue.

By day we worked together.

By night we were lovers.

Secret lovers.

Until a Sunday morning in December when

we lay listening to a symphony on the radio.

I said I'd never been to a concert

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