Both Cherry and Robyn stopped dead in their tracks and with looks of incredulity and shock, they were now staring at the man that had fallen to his knees. Seeing now that he had their attention, Chlodwig seized the opportunity, and in a most melodramatic manner he let out a mournful groan and fell face down in the wet sand.

The uncertainty in Robyn's voice was quite evident as she stated, "I don't think that's a Nazi spy. I mean... he certainly doesn't sound like one."

As they brought their horses to a halt neither Cherry nor Robyn said a word. They just listened. Finally, after a good 10 minutes or so, Cherry said, "I don't hear anything now, but the sound of the surf."

"Neither do I", Robyn replied. "I don't have a good feeling about any of this Cherry."

"Yeah, I know what you mean...

Suddenly Smith and Tuttle heard another shriek of pain coming from what sounded to be a man's voice just beyond the door to which they were now standing adjacent. As Smith started to knock on the door, Tuttle stopped him, and keeping his voice low said, "If we get involved in whatever is going on beyond this door, we may as well abort our primary purpose for even being here. We need to stay focused on Michaels. I'm pretty certain that he has our bicycle girl somewhere on this floor."

Broke Nose

Professor Michaels parked his 1936 DeSoto Airflow in the parking lot at the east end of the old Charleston Market near the intersection of South Market Street and Concord Street. Smith and Tuttle inconspicuously drove past, on Concord Street taking note that Michaels was alone. Tuttle took the next available right onto Cumberland Street turned right onto State Street and took another right onto South Market and immediately parallel parked facing the parking lot in which professor Michaels was parked, but at a good distance away so as not to be easily detected.

The Intelligence Chlodwig Fenstemacher was able to gather and provide to the SS was invaluable. On February 4, 1943, the twenty-one-year-old Oberleutnant (lieutenant) Chlodwig Fenstemacher reported for duty at the Lorient, France Flotilla (Nazi U-boat Base).

Mr. Altman's face twisted with anger as he continued to speak through the tears. "She's twenty-one, in the prime of her life, on the Dean's list for the third year in a row... and now... now it looks like Marie and I will be waiting on her hand and foot for the rest of her life. Now please, just leave us alone."

"I realize I'm asking a lot Mr. Altman, but will you allow me to arrange professional help for your daughter."

"Professional help?! And who's going to pay for that? Look around agent. Do we look like people of tremendous wealth? We spent every last dime we had on Suzy's education."

As they proceeded to the Francis Marion, Tuttle commented, "They seem pretty upset about our surveillance of the professor." Smith didn't respond. He just continued to look straight ahead. After a few seconds Tuttle continued, "In light of the most recent developments in this case, I have the strong inclination to take actions that will... ensure Professor Michaels ends up on the receiving end of some rather harsh retribution."