The Vermillion Vixen

My name is Sarah Hodgkins, and I’m a spy.

I worked for the Military Information Division, or MID, which was a branch of the army.

International trouble started brewing June 15, 1888, when the king of Germany died.

“Are you familiar with Kaiser Wilhelm II?” Sergeant Staggered asked.

“Yes, the new king of Germany. I read about him in the papers. His father only ruled for nintey nine days. What about him,” I asked.

“He’s causing trouble. He’s pushing a more aggressive foreign policy and building up the German armed forces. We need you to keep an eye on him. We’re sending you to Germany. Learn what you can and report back to us,” Sergeant Staggered said.

“What’s my cover?” I asked.

“You’ve had basic nurse training. Kaiser Wilhelm II’s father was very sick before he died so you’ll claim to be Wilhelm's fathers former nurse looking for work. Tell him you’ll take any available position. All his staff wear red, so we’ve got a new dress for you. You’re now The Lady in Red,” Sergeant Staggered said.

“You mean, I’m The Vermillion Vixon?” I asked.

“Um… sure. I guess that’s ok,” Sergeant Staggered said.

“Thank you, sir,” I said and saluted.

“Here’s your ticket. Your ocean liner leaves tomorrow,” Sergeant Staggered said.

“Ocean liner? Sounds fancy,” I said and smiled.

“We can’t have you take a battle cruiser. The Germans might call that an act of war. Wilhelm’s already on the war path,” Sergeant Staggered said.

I smiled. I always wanted to take an ocean liner.

I was only eighteen at the time, but I was well trained.

They almost didn’t let me in the army when I first tried to join because I was a woman, but then I beat the recruiter in an arm wrestling match he didn’t want me to mention to anyone. I agreed, as long as he let me serve.

I grew up on a ranch in California and learned how to wrangle just about any animal sent my way. I was also top of my class in the army, and had beaten all the boys in my unit at mud wrestling. I could handle a few Germans.

I got to Germany and inquired about a nursing position for Wilhelm.

I got a job, but not the one I was hoping for.

I was a chambermaid.

It didn’t matter, as long as I could listen to Wilhelms conversations.

In public, Kaiser Wilhelm II spoke openly about building Germanys armed forces, but claimed it was only for defensive purposes.

In private, he spent years planning for a world invasion. He thought all the world should be his, and nobody was entitled to stop him.

I wrote this all down, but did not want to risk detection by sending the information from Wilhelm’s castle, or even Germany.

I’d occasionally take a sick day. Then I took the rail to Paris, where I’d send my letters, addressed to Sergeant Staggered.

That is, until another chambermaid found one of my letters in April of eighteen ninety two and handed them to Kaiser Wilhelm.

He approached me in a hallway with a guard on each side of him.

He held up the letter I wrote.

“How long have you been a spy?” He asked in an unbearably low and growly baritone voice I hadn’t heard him use before.

“Since I got here, Kaiser. But don’t worry, Willy boy, I didn’t send anybody anything they didn’t need to know. I didn’t tell anybody you still wet the bed every night, or that you like to dress up as a ballet dancer so you can prance around the castle for hours on end shouting, ‘I’m a fairy princess’ at all your chambermaids,” I said and smiled.

Wilhelm’s face turned a shade of red so bright I thought he’d burst into flames.

“Seize her,” Wilhelm grunted.

The two guards started to approach me and I pulled a Smith & Wesson .32 Double Action revolver from my purse and shot one of the guards in the head. I shot the other one in the hand and he dropped his gun.

“Try me,” I said.

The guard and Wilhelm held up their hands.

“Against the wall,” I said. They listened.

I watched them as I walked past.

I made some distance between me and them before I turned around to run faster.

I took off my heels and ran, pushing several chambermaids out of the way in the process.

I ran outside and hopped on a horse. I rode it to the rail station, hopped the turnstile and snuck on the train.

The train took me to Paris. There, I bought a few sheets of parchment, rewrote everything I could remember from the original letter, then explained the predicament I was in.

A couple weeks later, I received a letter at my hotel.

It was from Sergeant Staggered.

Inside the letter was enough cash to pay the hotel bill, a ticket home and a letter.

The letter simply read, “Good work. Stay safe, Sgt. S.”

I made it home safe. I was thanked for my years of service only to be told there was no more work for me.

I was ok with that, because I had five more years of experience and several free red dresses the MID let me keep.

My next job was for the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

“I love your pretty red dress,” my new boss said.

He called himself Mr. P.

“Thank you, Mr. P. You make me blush. I have several more just like it back home. They were gifts from MID,” I said, then fanned my face with my hand.

A little flattery could go a long way.

“You’re hired,” Mr. P said.

“You hired me yesterday, too, as you recall. That’s why I came back today,” I said.

“Oh, right. That’s probably why there’s a file on my desk labeled The Vermillion Vixen,” he said.

I nodded.

“Probably.”

“You got anyway to prove you’re really the Vixen? We get a lot of bad actors come in here,” Mr. P said.

“What does your file say this Vixen lady looks like?” I asked.

“Let’s see,” Mr. P said as he sorted through papers. “Ah, here it is. Six three, long blonde hair, green eyes, and will arrive in a red dress. There’s even a picture.”

Mr. P held the picture up as if to compare it to me.

I stood up, waved my long blonde hair in his face, then raised and lowered my hands around my red dress.

“I see,” Mr. P said and smiled.

There was a long pause.

“Do you believe me now?” I asked.

“Yah, fine, sure, I guess,” Mr. P said.

“Well, do you have an assignment for me or not? You are the same Mr. P that told me to come back today, are you not?” I asked.

“I might. Would you have any interest in going to Paris?” I asked.

“Paris, I was recently there. I’d love to go back. It’s a beautiful city. Why?”

“Well, the Germans are planning something. What exactly, we don’t know. They’ve been sending troops all over France for what they’re calling friendly reconnaissance, but we don’t trust them. A threat to an ally is a threat to the U.S. the best part is, theres a French agency called Sûreté that’s paying for the whole operation,” Mr. P said:

“So you want me to go to Paris to keep an eye on the German’s?” I asked.

“You bet. Go get ‘em, Vixen,” Mr. P said.

He handed me a first class ticket on an ocean liner to Paris. I couldn’t have been more thrilled.

*****

I arrived on a Sunday and was given instructions to meet a detective from Sûreté who would assist in any and all things French related. He would also deliver any telegraphs or letters meant for me.

The detective pulled up in a noisy mechanical contraption.

He got out, examined my appearance as if I was the first beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and said, “I’m Detective Clouseau. Who might you be, young lady?”

“You can call me The Vermillion Vixen,” I said and held out my right hand.

He grabbed it and kissed my wrist.

“Come, Ms. Vixen. Let me take you to your hotel,” Detective Clouseau said.

“In that contraption? It looks dangerous,” I said.

“It’s a Daimler Motor Car. It was a gift from the Sultan of Morocco, Moulay Hassan the first. It was to repay me for saving the life of his son. It’s perfectly safe to drive. Let me show you,” Detective Clouseau said and pushed open the passenger door from the inside.

Against my better judgement, I got in. We started driving.

“What a rush,” I said.

Detective Clouseau Smiled.

“What hotel am I staying at, by the way?” I asked.

“The Grand Hôtel du Louvre?” Detective Clouseau said.

“Oh, that’s right near the museum. I’ll have to visit,” I said.

The detective smiled.

Detective Clouseau dropped me off at the hotel, and that was the last time he visited for months.

The only time I saw Detective Clouseau was when I went to collect payment or send a telegraph to Mr. P, who only ever telegraphed back, ‘good work.’

Then, late one night, Detective Clouseau showed up out of the blue to treat me to drinks at the hotel bar.

*****

I had been in Paris three months and picked up the most of the language. It was raining today. I put on my red dress, red raincoat, red heels and red hat before grabbing my red umbrella.

I left the hotel.

I saw two German soldiers walk past me, one bumping my shoulder as he did.

I was going to discreetly follow them and listen to their conversation, but one of them turned around. He looked familiar.

“It’s the Vermillion Vixen. Get her,” he shouted.

Damn, it was Wilhelm's bodyguard who I made stand against the wall.

The two men started chasing me down the street.

I ran back to the hotel.

“Madam Vermillion,” the man at the desk greeted me.

The two men burst in the door behind me.

I ran up the stairs, made it to my room, quickly unlocked the door and pushed it shut once I was inside.

The Sûreté knew this might happen and had given me a Gatling gun to keep in my room, just in case.

When the Germans came pounding on my door, I opened fire. The recoil was hard, firing was intense, and I had to scream loudly to get through the pain.

When I was done firing, I opened what was left of the door to see two dead German soldiers outside, along with all my neighbors who had come out of their rooms to see what happened.

“Nothing to see here. Sûreté Business,” I said.

Nobody moved, so I tried speaking in French.

“Allez-vous-en, stupides grenouilles,” I shouted.

They continued to stare at me, so I closed the door, sat down and waited.

A child had put his eye to one of the bullet holes and his finger through another.

“Well, hello there, young man,” I said and smiled. The child gasped and ran off.

Twenty more minutes I waited.

When I reopened the door to go to the bar, Detective Clouseau was outside.

“What happened here?” He asked.

“The Germans attacked me. I shot them several times. They died,” I explained.

“Good work,” Detective Clouseau said and winked.

He called the coroner over to remove the bodies, then left with me to get drinks.

Police officers were sent to interview the witnesses, but no charges were ever filed.

I watched the Germans in Paris for nine more years.

In all that time, I sensed there was something Detective Clouseau wanted to tell me. He never did, though.

On September 6th, 1901 I was sent a telegraph to return home.

*****

After almost a week on a boat, I was finally back on land. I had made it to Mr. Ps office and was greeted by two secret service agents.

“Nice to see you in person again, Ms. Vixen,” Mr. P said.

“You too,” I dully replied.

“We have two agents of the secret service with us today,” Mr. P said.

“That’s… great,” I said and smiled at them.

“We can use your help,” the man on the left said.

“Why? My job is to gather information on people. Don’t you guys handle counterfeiting?” I asked.

“Not anymore. President William McKinley was assassinated by Leon Czolgosz last week,” The man with the long tie said.

“I’m aware, I read the news. But what’s that got to do with me?” I asked.

“He claims to be an anarchistic, but we think the Germans are behind the attack. They’ve been buffering their armed forces for quite some time now. As an ally of France, we’ve stood in their way. We’ve set up blockades around some of Germany’s important trade routes. The Germans could perceive that as a threat to their ambitions and may be planning more attacks. We could really use your help proving our theory, Ms. Vixen,” the man with the dark tie and short mustache said.

I was surprised neither one of these men knew my real name, it being their jobs to protect the president.

But then, I’ve been using my pseudonym for so long, even I’d forget my real name on occasion, so I could hardly blame these men for doing the same.

“My help with what, exactly?” I asked.

“Protecting the new president, Theodore Roosevelt. Will you help us?” the hairless man in the light blue tie asked.

“Sure, why not,” I said.

The two secret service agents had traveled with me by rail to the white house to meet the president.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” I said and shook his hand.

“You to, Ms. Vixen,” President Roosevelt said.

“So, they tell me you need my protection. How can I help?” I asked.

“The country needs your protection. I already have an array of armed guards at my side, including agents black tie and blue tie over there,” President Roosevelt said and pointed with his thumb to the men.

“So, what is my job?” I asked.

“The German Navy has made several passes at the French navy. They’ve been firing weapons and retreating. We can’t let these provocations continue,” President Roosevelt said.

I nodded for him to continue.

“The United States military commissioned a new type of underwater vessel last year. We call it The USS Holland. You are to get on this vessel and it will take you to the Paris coast, where you will be dressed as a German navel officer. Then you will board a German navel vessel and telegraph any information you gather to my office,” President Roosevelt said.

“Yes sir,” I said and gave the president a salute.

I was going back to Paris.

The secret service agents handed me a suitcase and said it contained everything I needed, including a German navel disguise and a fake mustache, was inside.

Later that day, I boarded the vessel and headed to Paris.

***

I was allowed one day to rest upon my arrival, and I went to the same hotel I stayed at last time, The Grand Hôtel du Louvre.

Detective Clouseau had been waiting inside for me.

“How did you know I’d be here?” I asked.

“Like you, I have connections in the secret service,” Detective Clouseau said and smiled. Then he said, “welcome back.”

We walked to the fireplace and chatted for hours before he told me he loved me and wanted to get married. He couldn’t allow me to leave Paris ever again.

“Why didn’t you tell me when I was here the first time. I was only here nine years,” I said.

“I thought I had more time. Now I know better.”

“How about you come with me as a spy for the secret service. We’ll get another German sailors uniform. We can spy together,” I said.

“Well, I know someone who can make one for me. My concern is, if I left Sûreté, who would pay me? This is my job,” Detective Clouseau asked.

“I’ll have the secret service put you on the payroll. Come on, let’s go,” I said.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” Clouseau said and smiled.

We boarded the underwater vessel, set out, and eventually breached the surface just out of sight of a flotilla of German navel ships.

We wore small buoys so we could swim to the ship and the Germans wouldn’t notice us boarding.

We swam to one of the boats, then used grappling hooks to scale the ship. Then we boarded.

We were being watched. A very serious looking uniformed man had been staring at us.

Damn.

“Surprise inspection,” Detective Clouseau said in a surprisingly accurate German accent.

The man blew into a whistle.

“Attention all crew. Attention all crew,” the man shouted.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered.

The sailors on board all lined up.

“Surprise inspection. Drills, now!” The man shouted.

“Oh thank god, that worked,” I whispered to Detective Clouseau.

“I’ve been practicing my accent,” Detective Clouseau whispered back.

We spent the next several hours watching the sailors do drills. Then we pretended to be impressed with them.

That night we were given the only available room on the vessel.

Detective Clouseau made sure to seduce me during our time alone.

“Wait,” I said and put my finger on his lip as he was undressing me.

“Yes, my love?” Clouseau asked.

“Before we do anything, you have any French Letters?” I said, almost giggling.

“Here, we call them English Capes,” Clouseau explained. “And no, I do not have any.”

“Oh, fine. Just take me, detective,” I said and pulled him on top of me.

We were so busy for the next ten minutes we didn’t notice the letter being slipped under the door.

It wasn’t until after I got up to stretch that I saw the envelope.

“Clouseau, darling. It seems someone has slipped a letter under the door,” I said and yawned.

“Bring it over here,” Clouseau said. I brought the letter over and opened it.

An old photograph of me in my red dress and hat slipped out. There was also a letter inside.

The letter simply read, “I know who you are.”

“Well, that’s creepy,” Clouseau said.

“Agreed. We need to find out who slipped us the letter,” I said.

“I think I might know. I saw one of the sailors watching us for a while earlier. He was tall, thin, young, and looked like Mary Shelly’s description of Frankenstein,” Clouseau said.

“Let’s go find him,” I said.

So we did.

He started to walk away from us when he saw us walking towards him, but the hallway came to a dead end.

Clouseau grabbed his shoulder and he aggressively turned around and pushed Clouseau‘s hand away.

“Woah, friend. We just want to talk. Did you slip us this?” Clouseau asked and showed the man the letter.

“No, French scum. And get that stinking American away from me,” he growled.

“Then how do you know I’m French and she’s American?” Clouseau asked.

“Fine, I slipped you the letter. And if you don’t let me go, I’ll scream for help and have you arrested,” the man said.

His breathing was interrupted by a loud and hard punch to the gut from Clouseau.

“Walk with us,” Clouseau said and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. He motioned for me to grab the man’s other shoulder.

We walked with him to the edge of the deck.

“Young man, you and I have a small problem,” Clouseau started.

“You see, my ‘Stinking American’ and I are going to be here a while. And if our mission is to succeed, we can not have someone on the ship know who we are, especially if said person is going to blackmail us. We need to come to an understanding,” Clouseau finished.

“Are you threatening me?” The man asked.

Clouseau took out the large baton he always carried and with a loud thud, hit the man on the back.

“No, I’m telling you how things are going to be,” Clouseau said.

Before the man could make a sound, Clouseau grabbed the man’s legs and lifted him over the edge of the boat.

“Man overboard,” Clouseau whispered.

“Clouseau, I am both shocked and impressed,” I said, more turned on now then ever.

“Those filth have been doing the same to my people for well over a decade now. What’s one less piece of garbage,” Clouseau said and spit into the ocean.

We went back to our room and made love for another hour.

Nine months later I discreetly snuck of the navel vessel. I gave birth aboard The USS Holland.

“Thank you for responding to my telegraph. The Germans on the ship don’t know I was pregnant, and appearances must be maintained,” I said to the doctor on the ship.

“How did you keep him hidden?” The doctor asked.

“I wore thicker and thicker coats,” I said and smiled.

“Will you continue your mission on the boat?” One of the nurses asked.

“I must. Those are my orders from the President himself,” I said.

“What would you like us to do with the baby?” The nurse asked.

“Take Stewart to The Grand Hôtel du Louvre. I telegraphed a friend to take care of him until our return,” Clouseau said.

“We could send him to my aunt in California. And I don’t remember deciding on Stewart,” I said.

“That’s to far away. We wouldn’t be able to visit. And we could name the child Despereaux,” Clouseau said.

“Stewart is fine,” I said and sighed.

And with that, Stewart was taken to the hotel and Clouseau telegraphed his friend take care of him.

We visited Stewart anytime the German ship used Paris ports.

When Stewart was old enough, he asked us where we would always disappear too.

We told him it was secret work and that’s all we could tell him until he was older. If there was one thing I knew, it was to never trust a child with a secret.

*****

In nineteen oh seven, we were finally moved off the boat and went back to Paris.

We were ordered to watch the Germans from there for a few more years, and Stewart was happy we were finally home at the end of the day.

That all changed when Stewart was thirteen. There was a series of tragic events that led to a greater war.

King Wilhelm the second started calling himself The Supreme War Lord, which irritated locals and foreigners alike and was seen as a provocation by most enemy governments.

On June 28, 1914, Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria was assassinated in Sarajevo, setting off a greater chain of events.

July 28, 1914, Austria-Hungary declared war on Serbia.

August 1, 1914, Germany declared war on Russia.

August 3, 1914, Germany declared war on France.

August 4, 1914, Britain declares war on Germany.

I was in France the day the Germans invaded.

My new job was the same as my old job, except I was to feed information to British intelligence, MI6.

A lot of people credit the MI6 with decoding the Zimmermann Telegram in 1917, but not many people know I’m the one who discovered its existence. I was watching the Germans as they sent it.

If I wasn’t, Germany and Mexico would have forged an alliance.

Stewart was now 16 and old enough to join the armed forces.

Most mothers would be scared, but most mothers weren’t top notch spies who could keep an eye on them. And most mothers didn’t train their children their whole lives to fight.

Stewart could handle himself. I was proud of Stewart.

In 1918, as it became clear that Germany would lose the war, Wilhelm abdicated the throne and fled to the Netherlands, where he lived out the rest of his life in exile. As did his puppet Chancellor, Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg.

On November 11, 1918, I helped broker an armistice between the Allied powers and Germany. Once it went into effect, it ended the fighting.

I received an ‘anonymous’ honorary award from the secret service, MI6 and French intelligence for my service.

Stewart was awarded the Croix de Guerre and Médaille Militaire for his service in the military.

I’m now seventy three and was telling my story to my grandchild when the secret service again were at my door with yet another job.

In late May of 1943, Stewart, Clouseau and I were asked to help establish a new group of spies called the OSS. We were to assist in ending the Second World War.