An American Spy
A romantic tradition in espionage literature, both in fiction and true stories, prescribes the involvement of an intriguing woman. Usually she is mysterious, beautiful, and quite dangerous. In Moyzisch's narrative and later in Bazna's as well the role fell to Moyzisch's new, young office assistant. Cornelia Kapp had been born into a respected family in Berlin but had spent many formative years in the United States. The attractive daughter of a German consular official, she was not infiltrated into her job, but the Americans acquired much information through her. Only years later did she speak of her wartime activity, however, and her statements drew little attention despite the new insights they afforded.
Moyzisch's book is unreliable on the Kapp episode due to his limited knowledge, unwarranted suppositions, and his highly colored treatment of Kapp's part in what finally happened to Cicero. Certainly he refused to admit her espionage. He used her story only to create a dramatic thread and climax for his narrative and to conceal awkward truths and implications that he must have suspected. That he was capable of deception is clear from his pose as a diplomat; that he had to concoct a plausible defense stemmed from difficulties with his superiors. In consequence his version of events became so misleading that it must be disregarded. Among the needed corrections is the dropping of the pseudonym "Elisabet," which he introduced and many writers repeated over the years.1
Kapp's postwar fate remained unknown until the early 1960s, when the collaborator in Bazna's memoir, Hans Nogly, traced her by engaging a journalist to check records. G. Thomas Beyl located her through friends in Chicago and then interviewed her in California.2 The statements that she and others made to him were quoted at length in the