“I have a luncheon meeting, but I would love to have dinner with you. I’ll meet you out there by the fountain at, say, six o’clock,” she said pointing to the fountain just outside.
“I’ll be there,” Paul gushed.
She rose, shook his hand, lightly brushed his cheek with her lips then walked away.
That evening Paul was a half hour early. She was fifteen minutes late, but he waited, never once considering leaving. Dinner consisted of a light meal with a large helping of conversation. Margo was skilled. She quickly enticed Paul onto her network’s intent of helping Lindberg’s efforts to assist Hitler’s cause. If it meant seeing more of Margo, Paul was a very willing recruit.
“Paul. I could move around Europe much easier if I were on the arm of a handsome young man. Would you be my young man, please?”
“I would love to,” said Paul. “When do I start?”
Margo said, “is tomorrow too soon?”
They traveled together, ate together, roomed together, and as anyone listening to the sounds coming out of their room late at night would attest, they also loved together. During the day when Margo spied on the Allies, Paul spied on Margo. Often, the information gleaned by Margo was so current that she knew things even before the Allies had shared the information with each other.