"I hope your story will not take long, since I must go right away to a very important meeting," Hornibrook said pretending to be interested.
David began his story, telling the Minister about the miseries endured by a peddler. He thought not that much of this trade in intellectual terms but at least, thanks to this activity, David had been able to meet a large number of Costa Ricans and foreigners, from all social classes and of all walks of life. He had become best friends with many among them and one was a lady, a most particular woman, called Susanita. In turn, this lady had developed a very strong friendship with "a very important person" working in a "certain foreign Legation." But, as it is prone to happen between lovers, their relation had ended quite
"abruptly," David said.
Hornibrook was bored to death and the veiled allusions only mortified him even more.
"Don David, your story seems too sad and I can understand very well that you are suffering for Susanitaś bad luck. But please tell me, why should the representative of the United States care for your tale?" he asked impatientely.
"It is much more relevant than you think."
Disregarding the diplomat's interruption, David continued his story. However, he now tried to go to the point. "The Legation in question is the German and Susanita is a homosexual, as well as Max, his partner. I do not have any trouble at all with that sort of sexual preference," David said, "after all, my wife's brother was one of them and he killed himself 213
because of your government, Mister Hornibrook, but that is another story. Anyway, as I was telling you, the information I received from Susanita has deeply disturbed me."
Realizing that the U.S. Minister did not show signs of interest in his tale, David went straight to the heart of the matter: "Susanita has provided me with photographs and documents that I have studied carefully. According to what I have discovered," he continued, "Max Gerffin sells drugs, transporting them on German ships. He will not let anyone check or confiscate these ships and, moreover, he has conversations underway with Cortés, to organize a coup d'état against President Calderón. In some of the documents that I have seen, there are detailed plans to carry on military strikes."
"But how is he going to hide the drug, if those ships are under the control of the Costa Rican Army?" the diplomat inquired.
"That should not be a problem for Gerffin, Mister Hornibrook. I have pictures of some of the President's advisors with me, stark naked and in the middle of orgies with this German diplomat."
At that point Hornibrook was gaping and felt uncomfortable sitting in the beautiful black leather chair presiding over his sparkling clean office.
"Why stark naked?" - he asked, trying to make sure they were both speaking the same language.
"Yes, Mister Hornibrook. Take a look at this picture here; it depicts someone from the Ministry of Foreign Relations. Look at his really weird pose, as if he was about to undergo a prostate examination and look at that strange object inside of him. Just imagine what the press would give to have one of these photographs and imagine Mister Gerffinś power over dozens of officials in the government. Any one of them would do whatever he asks, provided Mister Gerffin does not release their compromising pictures."
The American Minister did not care any more about his coffee and went straight to his bar to prepare a double Johnny Walker instead.
"Don David, would you like a drink?" he asked.
"Sure. Give me one with soda, please."
Although he tried really hard, Hornibrook was not allowed to look at the photograph again.
He knew that perhaps it was the last picture taken of Pepe before he was murdered.
To change the subject, he asked about Ernest, who could be seen depicted in full action.
"But this one is Ernest Roehm," Hornibrook said scandalized. "He looks ugly naked, does he not?" David said ironically, "Here, take this, Mister Hornibrook. I am leaving you one of the many letters containing war plans, for you to realize who this gentleman Gerffin really is."
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"What do you want from me?" bluntly asked the Minister.
"Save Calderon's government, but make him withdraw his support to the Committee for the Nationalization of Trade and also have him put an end to the anti-Jewish campaign."
David would not let Hornibrook see more pictures or documents, "until we see that you do what you should do and prevent a disaster," he said. The peddler drank his whisky with soda, said goodbye and left, leaving Hornibrook bewildered and preparing yet another drink for himself.
The US Minister regarded the information provided by the Jewish merchant as scandalous, although not essential for his country's security. "These Jews are always obsessed with all kinds of plots," he thought. "Later on, I will send copies of all these things to Washington."
He felt much sorrow contemplating his collaborator's picture, José Flores. The poor man had died for the United States and he would let Washington know this in a memorandum titled: "Our spy has been discovered by the Nazis."
Hornibrook did not pay much attention to David's information, but it was different in the banana companies.
Limon was experiencing difficult times. The United Fruit workers did not have any social security whatsoever and were fully dependent on the good will of their bosses to survive the many health hazards confronting them, as well as to reduce the impact of inflation and recessions and the ups and downs of agriculture. Since the middle of the nineteenth century, these workers had tried to improve their situation by means of Mutual Help societies. But it would be after World War I, when the more radical ideas arrived in Costa Rica. In 1916, in Puntarenas, the first Union was created by a group of craftsmen. In turn, the first workers'
confederation, the Anarchist General Workers Confederation, was established in 1921 and it launched the first national strike that year, fighting for the eight-hour workday.
During the 1930s, the labor movement grew, thanks to the efforts of Miguel Pop and his comrades in the Communist Party. The Marxists organized the workers of the banana areas, struggling to obtain better working conditions. Miguel helped organize the general strike in the Atlantic banana areas, fighting for better salaries, better living conditions and minimum health coverage. They demanded basic services from the Banana Company, such as a clinic and ant ophidian serum to treat the hundreds of workers bitten each year by the snakes, animals that love to coil inside the warm banana bunches. The workers' victory in this struggle increased the Party's prestige. By 1940, the Communists became the second largest electoral force in Costa Rica.
Miguel had helped to consolidate a strong union in the Limón region and developed a good relation with the main Communist leader, Manuel Mora. Miguel was 35 years old, a son of Jamaican immigrants, robust, attractive and with the reputation of being a fanatic Communist. He was well known for supporting popular causes. Ever since the mysterious disappearance of his brother and his female companion, some ten years earlier, Miguel was the only male son left, in charge of his entire family.
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In marked contrast with his brother William, who according to evil tongues was involved in some wrongdoings, Miguel enjoyed a blameless reputation. However, given that people like to criticize anyone without any real reason whatsoever, it was gossiped that Miguel used to venerate an old witch man, half shaman and half queer, called The Duster. Miguel's enemies accused him of never organizing a strike or a demonstration, without first consulting with this shaman. Moreover, it was argued that he found protection in the latter's magical spells.
He rejected those accusations, arguing that since his brother disappeared without traces, his family remained permanently disconsolate, constantly worried for the only living son. His own mother suggested to him to seek the advice of and "the works" prepared by, The Duster: "That man gives you good concoctions and has never failed in his prognostications about when is the best time to start your dins." Besides, Miguel had known this shaman at a meeting of the Communist Party itself, where The Duster was accepted because he had been very close to the first Italian striker in Costa Rica.
The union man used to listen, delighted, to the stories The Duster would tell him, about the legendary and mythical first workers' strike, the one undertaken by the "tútiles." When some of the Party members objected to the fact that Miguel paid attention to a homosexual witch, a component of the "opium of the people," he responded that The Duster was a key element in their infrastructure and, therefore, strategic for scientific Marxism.
The poor Communists stood perplexed when they heard such statements: "How can you say that a queer is part of the infrastructure, man?" complained one of his comrades.
"Do the bananas generate surplus value?" he asked.
"Yes, but, what does it have to do with this?" a bewildered friend responded.
"Well, The Duster has harvested more bananas than any plantation,"he answered.
This time, however, The Duster was not coming to prepare a magical spell for him. The shaman was already too old to pay frequent visits to the banana plantations and, besides, he hated Limón, "because it is so hot that I arrive there much more melted than a Salvadoran pupusa91, " as he used to say. Besides, there were always some men ready to make fun of an old transvestite, while others tried to pick him up on the road. Some of them would shout obscenities at him like: "You brute, you are so ugly because probably you were conceived during the 1910 earthquake!" Some others mocked his large breasts: "Where are you taking that pair of watermelons?" Since he had to ride a horse to get to the plantation where Miguel worked, he was exposed to all kinds of dangers and abuses.
That day, a handsome banana worker had offered to take him, on his horse, to the Limoncito area. The Duster rode in front and the man began to fondle him.
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"Have you lost something inside my dress?" he asked. "Don't you respect women old enough to be your grandmother?" he added, infuriated.
The worker acted as if he had deaf ears and at every opportunity he had, when the horse stepped on a difficult spot, he took advantage of the moment and his hand probed the shaman. "Listen, young man," said the transvestite, "why do not you grab your horse's tits?"
However, the young banana worker did not heed and instead said:
"If my horse had that kind of tits, then the two of us would ride on top of you."
The poor Duster would not admit that his large breasts were just a couple of stuffed cotton bags and he finally arrived much more "plucked" than a coffee plant," as he told Miguel.
"But the important thing is that you arrived," the syndicalist answered smiling broadly.
"I did not come to this hell just to pay a social visit," he said solemnly. "I am worried because last Friday Susanita, the queer, visited my house. He sends you many regards and told me how he always remembers the good times you both once had... But that is not what I have come here to tell you. You know how this faggot is when he falls in love; when he finds a good log to hug, the big queer gets totally dazzled. Well, these days he is fooling around with a man that now, however, is scorning him deeply. As usual, he came to me, seeking a potion to try to win back his lover. But, as you know, the only thing he may retain is food."
"Well, well," said Miguel, used to the endless stories The Duster would always want to tell and fearing he would not stop for hours. "Just tell me why you are here!"
"Well," continued the shaman, "last week he came to me with the strangest story and asked me for an elixir to give to a man currently involved in dark businesses but who nonetheless he wants to keep by his side. The problem is that I found out that his lover is trying to stage a coup d'état with Cortésś followers and if such a thing were to happen, we workers will face the worst ever predicament. It is time for the Communists to wake up and find ways to support the current government. Although not very good, it is not as bad as one that would ally itself with the Germans."
"But dear Dusty," said Miguel, "please remember that the Communist Party supports the Soviet Union and there is a treatise between the USSR and Germany. Besides, we have opposed this government, regarding its policy to dismantle the electricity and gasoline monopolies, because this move was just a 'sell out' to the American companies. A government headed by Cortés would not necessarily be bad for us."
"Look, Miguel," The Duster answered, "I did not travel all this long distance to come here and have you talk unbelievable nonsense. I do not give a damn about all those European treatises and agreements. One thing is what is going on over there and something quite different what may happen to us workers here. I do not see how a Nazi party in power is going to help us in any way whatsoever."
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Miguel was not convinced. After all, how could he trust the lover of a homosexual? It could be just an exaggeration concocted by unimportant characters, living on the fringes of power but wishing to pretend to have some of it, a common desire among minorities and the poor.
He had also heard a long string of stories, by workers, banana employees and craftsmen, all trying, from time to time, to impress him with their "connections" and their "friends" in high governmental or business circles. But when you scratched below the surface, all you found were irrelevant, tiny and circumstantial "connections."
"Surely Susanita, who creates more fantastic realities than a magician in a circus, never had a real relationship with that politician," thought Miguel. He thanked The Duster for his gesture and his dedication to the cause of the poor and invited him to a coffee at the Company's cafeteria. Just to make some conversation, he asked him who was the important character that gave Susanita the information.
"Max Gerffin," answered the shaman.
A shiver climbed through his spine all the way to his forehead, from which some sweat drops emerged, just like those freezing spells that from time to time destroyed the coffee harvests.
"What are you telling me?" he asked, not believing what he just heard.
"Max Gerffin," repeated The Duster. "The same man your brother used to work with."
"Do you know what, dear Dusty?" said Miguel, "you will not need to ask anyone for a ride back to the city and because I myself will take you; I am going back to San José."
In the meantime, on March 7, 1941, the Costa Rican Congress approved the report issued by the Investigative Commission, recommending the expulsion of the Jews. Meanwhile, that same day the government of the United States decided to support the seizure of boats belonging to the Axis countries.
The State Department sent its "green light" to Costa Rica, on March 20th. "The day when the Costa Rican government seizes those ships, the government of the United States will make sure that one of its torpedo boats will casually arrive in Puntarenas, just to provide moral support." Hornibrook, suspecting the Costa Rican Ministry of Foreign Relations, would not tell them the exact date when the boats would be seized. The U.S. Minister requested the President to use two dates; one only to be known by himself and the Army, the other one known by the entire cabinet. The definitive date would be April 2, 1941; the one disclosed to the cabinet, April 5th.
Max was well aware of the negotiations taking place between the Americans and the Costa Rican government, through Pepe Flores. He knew they had accused him of storing drugs on board the German ships and that the government would launch an inquiry and would seize the boats. But the exact date provided by Pepe was not the correct one. When he found it out, he realized that his friend, and informant, was deceiving him.
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"Who is giving advance information to the Germans?" Hornibrook inquired.
"Perhaps it indeed is the First Lady," his assistant answered.
"The woman is not exactly pro-German, but she may have fallen into Max Gerffinś hands," he added. According to Zweig, on December 17, 1940, Ivonne de Calderón unwillingly provided the Germans with secret information about the whereabouts of her own family, when she asked about their health in occupied Belgium, through the very Costa Rican Ministry of Foreign Relations.
She had sent her parent's address to the Costa Rican Consul in Hamburg and this officer, in turn, did not have qualms to inform Berlin. It had called the attention of the American Legation that the President's wife began to protect and to be intimate with persons considered by the State Department, as "guilty of inclinations and association with the Nazis." It was not hard to put two and two together. "She might be blackmailed by some Germans in Costa Rica," as later would be put in an official document of the State Department. And when blackmailing was the issue, Max was always involved, since he was the main plotter at the German Legation. However, all this was but a guess and the State Department "is not fully convinced who the informant in the Costa Rican government is,"
Hornibrookś assistant pointed out.
Whoever it was, through him, or her, Max obtained the real date when his boats would be captured. To counteract the Government's action and the current rapprochement between Costa Rican and the United States, he devised a not too complicated plan.
The shrewd diplomat organized an assassination plot against the President. It would not be necessary actually to kill him, because dead people may become martyrs and he did not want to deify Calderón. His sole intention was to have some shots against the President, enough to create a front- page scandal. The best opportunity would be during the weekly meeting between Calderón and the Minister of Foreign Relations, which the President normally attended without bodyguards. The hired killer would be located in the Parque España, a bushy place with numerous dark corners where it was easy to hide, just across from the main entrance to the Chancellery, the so-called Yellow House.
The Jews would be the easiest group to blame for the attempted murder. They had much to lose from an administration that wanted them out of the country.
In order not to raise suspicions, the Nazi Party chose a gunman completely unrelated to the Germans. This hit man would plant some evidence, strongly suggesting that the attempted murder was a response to Calderon's anti-Semitic policy.
The Nazi leader had reports that David Sikora wrote letters in the name of the Jewish community and was passing information to Hornibrook, something that made him the ideal victim to blame.
Max sent a petty thief to steal something from the Sikoraś home, to plant it later at the scene of the crime against the President. If the plan resulted as expected, the pro-Axis 219
masses would take to the streets against the allied cause, thus provoking chaos in town.
Then, to restore order and to put an end to terrorism, the seizure of the boats would have to be cancelled and a military coup would be launched.
"It will not be too different than when Hitler declared a state of emergency, blaming the Communists for the fire at the Reichstag that he himself had ordered," thought Max. If the
"Cortesistas" return to power, he thought, Costa Rica would remain neutral in this war, as it had done during the Civil War in Spain. Then he could continue with his drug businesses as usual and David Sikora and the Jews, who had denounced him, would have paid dearly for it.
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XXV
"Strike!" was a scream like thunder that could be heard throughout the Market. As usual, the workers arrived at 7 am to their jobs, wrote down their names on the daily attendance sheet and then put on their uniforms. However, on this morning, things would be different.
As a replica to the earthquake that hit the banana companies during 1934, a tremor shook San José. The struggle to reduce the workday to only eight hours, to improve salaries and working conditions, was as relevant to the workers in the Atlantic plantations as among the clerks laboring in San Jose's stores, warehouses and factories.
The employees working in commercial businesses as well as those laboring in the emerging clothing industries suffered a vile exploitation. Their workday varied from 10 to 12 hours, they did not have any work insurance, neither maternity help, nor retirement pension. If they got sick they were simply fired and if they complained they could be thrown to jail, accused of insubordination. All this, apart from the ill treatment and the abuses they had to endure from the new capitalists and industrial bosses who, in turn, followed the steps of coffee or sugar plantations owners. This exploitation was a fertile ground stirring the workers' mobilization and once these urban workers had learned their lesson from the exemplary strikes launched by the tútiles and the banana workers, things would never be the same again.
The police was traditionally at the service of the national oligarchy and thus rapidly arrived at the spot where the new conflict was beginning. A merchant had informed them how the insurrects were blocking a major national road, thus endangering the health and the well being of all the honest and hard working citizens. When the Secretary of Security realized that the strikers were preventing the free flow of transit, the Baton Regiment was immediately sent to take care of the matter. This Regiment was the anti-riot police, a military corps much feared by the people, since its members never hesitated to attack the workers, breaking the skulls of many among them. Recently, their action was devastating to the printer's craftsmen that had started a strike.
The Central Market strike promised to be a really hard nut to crack. First of all, workers from several different economic sectors were participating. A conflict with one of these groups, or so the Government feared, could translate into several others and get out of control. Secondly, the Government did not want an unnecessary blood bath.
The Secretary of Security had issued clear orders to the Police Chief: "Open any road that may be blocked, employing all the necessary means." To make sure the situation would not worsen, the Secretary had asked the President to find a mediator that "would do all he could to prevent a blood bath," and that "would do everything possible to reach a compromise with those on strike." The President looked for a politician that usually visited the Central Market and who, at the same time, was well regarded by both workers and owners. The Secretary of Security blessed him, as he was to begin his delicate mission: "May God help you!"
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The anti-riot police was welcomed with strong animosity from the part of the Central Market's workers. On several occasions these guards had abused their power when confronting 'troublemakers'. The policemen entered the place marching in goose steps (the new style imposed by President Cortés), but unable to keep the rhythm and in a disorderly fashion. Their lack of synchronicity and their worn uniforms made it clear that this was a military unit composed of unemployed peasants without any other means to earn a living.
Actually, they were not different, in terms of class, from the strikers. "Go on! Go on!
March at the step! Do not look at the people!" shouted Colonel Alvaro León.
The order not to look at the people was issued because the striking workers stuck out their tongues and mocked the soldiers for their ridiculous appearance. "Long live the worker's revolution!" shouted the butcher's shop clerk. The shoemakers began to whistle 'The International' anthem and the woman selling vegetables placed all her tomatoes on the front boxes, trying to create a red flag. But the most daring was the prank organized by the man selling brooms: He distributed all the brooms he had among the female personnel working at several other stores and they all composed an impressive army of women hoisting brooms as if they were weapons. "Down with the exploiters!" shouted these clerks, moving hundreds of brooms up and down.
The policemen received a major surprise when they reached the business where the strike had started. They realized the workers' movement was just two women and two children sitting on the passageway leading to the Market's urinals and toilets.
Who denounced the strike alerting the Government about the workers' insurrection threatening the well being of the population, was David Sikora. Anita and his children had walked out from La Peregrina, refusing to continue working under the terrible conditions they had to endure. The wife was carrying a sign nobody could understand, since it was written in Yiddish, but the workers from other stores could imagine what it was about.
When she was asked to translate it, she was ashamed to do so. Nonetheless, she shouted: "I will end up Oyesgemutshe t!92. Long lives the yiddishe revolution!" The first Polish strike in the country had already started.
Colonel León, in charge of the Baton Police, could not contain his anger toward David Sikora for deceiving him about the kind of protest they were supposed to confront.
"Mister Sikora, don't you find it ridiculous that you call us because your wife and children are striking? Besides, how dare you tell us they are blocking a major road in San José?" a dazzled officer said, feeling David was pulling his leg.
"Look here, mister Colonel, the witch of my wife and my children, who had agreed to follow her tricks, have blocked the way leading to the toilets. Besides, don't you think that if the urinals and the toilets were blocked, this would create a major problem in the city?
Think on the thousands of folks unable to pee or to do other things," explained the merchant, who never anticipated his own family would organize a strike against him.
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The police could not intimidate Anita or her children. They were ready to fight to death to improve their working conditions. In the first place, the wife was tired of working twelve hours every day, while David spent part of his time at the Synagogue or discussing politics.
Moreover, she wanted to earn half the income made at the store, instead of depending on whatever sum David decided to give her (he always gave her the minimum). She did not want her younger children to be forced to work and if Elena, the oldest, had had to abandon school to help at the store, then she should be free to hang about with any friends she decided to do so. Finally, Samuel could use a salary to start paying for his ticket to Palestine.
David would not budge. He knew perfectly well that Anita did not have a penny and that the strategy of passive resistanc