City of Spies by Nina Berry

detention in the United States and fled the country. We believe that he changed his name to Rolf Von Albrecht, keeping the two names similar to make it easier to respond to, and that he found help from sympathizers all over the country. A sort of evil Underground Railroad. They housed him, kept him safe, funded his journey across the country. The evidence indicates that he stayed at your house in the summer of ’52.”
    Pagan inhaled sharply and nodded as Devin threw her a look. It was exactly what she’d feared after decoding the letters. Her mother wasn’t only a woman who hated Jews. She’d helped a Nazi war criminal escape justice.
    â€œIt’s okay,” she said, although it was far from okay. “But I feel a little sick.”
    He got up and poured her a glass of water. “After his stay with your family, Von Alt left on a ship from the port of Long Beach. We don’t know his exact route from there, but we think we’ve tracked him down here, to Buenos Aires.”
    â€œTracked him—how?” She took the glass from him. Although none of this was a surprise, it was unsettling to hear the story coming from Devin, who was as close to an official government source as she could get.
    â€œI don’t know all the details, but during the war, the FBI knew that your mother was a Nazi sympathizer and kept a file on her. They didn’t think she was dangerous and weren’t actively watching her in ’52, so Von Alt was able to get away. Later, I don’t know how, they learned that she had helped a man who resembled Von Alt. Meanwhile, I learned that Walter Ulbricht’s daughter was a fan of yours.”
    She sipped her water. How could the FBI have known about Mama during the war when Pagan herself had just found out? Mama had been an excellent actress in her own right. “And you got me to Berlin, using my desire to learn more about Mama to get me there,” she said. “You knew by then she had helped the Nazis.”
    He nodded, eyes on her as if braced for a bad reaction. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you.”
    She raised her hand briefly, waving off his apology. She’d forgiven him long ago. He’d been doing his job, and they’d had no connection then, no relationship, if that was the right word for whatever lay between them now. But could she trust him?
    â€œDo you know anything else about my mother or father now that I don’t know?” she asked. She held her breath, not knowing if she would believe the answer, whatever it was.
    â€œNo.”
    He looked right at her, brows steepled sadly, his eyes concerned, and warmth spread through her chest, like hot tears, melting away her uncertainty.
    â€œAll right,” she said. “I had to ask.”
    He gave her a small smile. “Keep in mind, the CIA does know more. I can tell that the file they gave me on your mother was only part of the story they have on her. I knew she was the daughter of your grandmother Ursula, and that Ursula claimed to have married Emil Murnau and said he was the father of her baby.”
    â€œBut Emil Murnau wasn’t my grandfather,” she said. “He probably never knew Grandmama. He’s someone who died at the right time so she could cover up the fact she had a baby out of wedlock.”
    â€œI wonder if your mother knew.”
    Pagan considered this. “Grandmama would never have told her. She was too proud. And Mama was so sure of herself, of her place in the world...” She trailed off.
    â€œUntil the end.” Devin’s eyes were fixed on her, steadying her as the bleak, heavy thoughts about Mama’s death came over her. It was always like this, a smothering weight pressing the breath out of her. She’d started drinking to erase that weight, and it still made her long for the icy bite of vodka sliding over her tongue. She concentrated on breathing and pushed through it all.
    â€œThat’s not