The Washington Sanction

by Mark Arundel

The cab drove them around the corner onto Hudson Street and stopped outside Karen’s apartment.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, ‘I had a lovely time.’

  She got out.

  ‘Happy New Year,’ she said, and then turned and skipped up the steps and disappeared.

  He watched her go in.

  The cab pulled away and headed north along 7th Avenue. On the Upper East Side, Rafferty paid and got out.

  Inside his apartment, he made a telephone call.

  William McGrath listened without interrupting.

  ‘Find out everything you can about her,’ Rafferty said.

  45 New Year’s Day, 1964, Manhattan, New York

  Rafferty entered the Burbank office on Fifth.

  As before, McGrath was already there. The office was empty except for the two men. Rafferty closed the door, removed his coat and sat down.

  ‘Karen Brekke,’ said McGrath, as though he were a schoolmaster calling out a pupil’s name, ‘date of birth July first, nineteen thirty-four. She lives in an apartment in the West Village. She’s an only child, never married and her eye colour is blue.’

  ‘What else?’ Rafferty said.

  ‘Her parents are both alive, in their early seventies and retired. They live in Florida, in a place called Anna Maria Island. Her father was a scientist, something to do with genetics, and her mother a medical doctor at Manhattan State Hospital. They came to America in nineteen thirty-nine from Norway when she was five. She grew up in the city, only leaving when she went to college.’

  ‘…which college?’ Rafferty asked.

  ‘MIT,’ McGrath said.

  Massachusetts Institute of Technology, so she didn’t lie about that, Rafferty thought.

  ‘…and after college?’ Rafferty said.

  ‘She returned to New York and took a job with Chase Manhattan.’

  That was the truth as well, he thought.

  ‘What was the job?’ he asked.

  ‘This is interesting,’ McGrath said. ‘It’s something called a Risk Executive. It’s divided into four areas: identification, analysis, assessment and action.’

  ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘It means she’s very smart,’ said McGrath. ‘Her current job is Personal Logistics Controller for Special Operations, International.’

  Rafferty knew what her current job was. He ignored McGrath’s dry wit and asked a question.

  ‘When did her new job start?’

  Rafferty felt his suspicious mind start to work the possibilities.

  ‘She began work twelve days ago on the twentieth,’ McGrath said.

  ‘Then it wasn’t a company appointment,’ Rafferty said.

  ‘No, it wasn’t,’ McGrath said. ‘She was pulled straight from the bank.’

  Rafferty considered for a moment. What was it she had said? An official approached me from Washington, the job sounded interesting and so I took it. Rafferty wondered what that job really was.

  ‘Who appointed her?’ Rafferty asked. Find that out, he thought, and perhaps, what she was doing might become obvious.

  ‘I don’t know,’ McGrath said, ‘but it’s likely to be the White House; they’re the only ones with the contacts.

  Rafferty nodded in agreement.

  ‘Two more things,’ McGrath said. ‘Chase Manhattan undertook an internal employment review. They claimed she possessed special qualities and that she was a unique asset, and a professor at MIT wrote that her intelligence presented with an exceptional predisposition towards unrelated analytical deduction.

  ‘Unrelated analytical deduction,’ Rafferty echoed. He committed it to memory.

  ‘Yes,’ McGrath said.

  ‘What does it mean?’ Rafferty asked.

  McGrath shook his head reflectively.

  ‘Trouble,’ he said.

  Rafferty slipped out of the Burbank office and walked back to his apartment. He considered the information McGrath had just given him. Karen Brekke remained on his mind the whole way. At his apartment building, he checked his wristwatch.

  Riding the elevator his thoughts abruptly changed from Karen Brekke to Marilyn. He remembered a New Year’s Day they had spent together and he wondered if they would have been together this year had she still been alive.

  Inside his apartment, the telephone rang.

  ‘Hello,’ he answered.

  ‘Who am I speaking to, please?’ she asked, with just a suggestion of humour.

  He recognised her voice immediately.

  ‘Bluebeard,’ he said.

  ‘Are you alone?’ she asked, conspiratorially.

  ‘Yes, I’m alone,’ he said,

  ‘Thanks for last night. I really enjoyed myself,’ she said. Karen’s voice changed effortlessly and became warm and friendly.

  ‘What do you want?’ he said.

  Karen laughed.

  ‘What are you doing today?’ she asked.

  ‘…why?’ he said.

  ‘…because I don’t want to be alone,’ she said.

  ‘All right, let me call you back.’

  Before Rafferty could decide, the telephone rang again.

  ‘Hello,’ he answered.

  Isabella's voice was warm and light.

  ‘Happy New Year,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, thanks—you, too.’

  ‘What did you do last night?’

  ‘Not much,’ he said.

  ‘Now listen, what are you doing today?’

  ‘I have plans,’ he said.

  ‘What plans?’

  ‘I’m not sure, nothing fixed.’

  ‘Good, I’m inviting you to lunch. I’ll send the Rolls for midday.’

  Rafferty thought for a moment.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘It’s New Year’s Day and Richard and I want to see you.’

  ‘Can I bring a friend?’

  ‘Sure, who’s the friend?’

  ‘…a work colleague.’

  ‘That’s fine. The Rolls will collect you at twelve...’ Isabella was about to end the call when she added, ‘…dress nicely,’ and then she hung up. He didn’t have time to reply.

  That solves one problem, he thought. Where to go today.

  46 New Year’s Day, 1964, Long Island, New York

  The Rolls Royce Phantom V cruised effortlessly along the lanes through the Long Island village.

  Edward Rafferty and Karen Brekke sat in the back, on thickly padded seats and watched the January wind beat small trees without mercy.

  Rafferty wore a woollen suit and a new shirt. He wondered if he was "dressed nicely".

  Karen sat forward and spoke to Robert, the chauffeur, through the open glass partition.

  ‘Thank you, Miss,’ he replied, ‘it’s kind of you to say.’

  Karen wore a knitted dress under a cream mackintosh, which she tied fashionably at the waist.

  ‘You look like the girlfriend of a Private Investigator from one of those TV shows,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘What did you say to Robert?’

  ‘I wished him a happy New Year.’

  ‘Look, you can just see the house,’ Rafferty said.

  ‘Tell me something about Richard and Isabella Tobias,’ she said.

  ‘Richard Tobias was my boyhood guardian. He married Isabella after I’d left and joined the army. Players is the name of their house, and the home I grew up in.’

  Karen just nodded. She was watching the north shore through the window. The village was just how it must have been forty or fifty years earlier when many of the waterfront properties had first been built.

  They arrived outside the house.

  ‘Thanks, Rob,’ Rafferty said.

  They walked to the door and John, the butler, let them in. Isabella appeared wearing another new dress.

  ‘Happy New Year,’ she said and kissed Rafferty on the cheek.

  ‘This is Karen Brekke,’ he said, ‘we work together. Karen, this is Isabella Tobias.’

  ‘
Hello, Mrs. Tobias, I’m pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Hello, Karen. Please, call me Isabella.’

  Isabella was pleasant, but Rafferty knew her well enough to notice something had annoyed her.

  ‘Let’s go through,’ she said.

  They followed her into the drawing room and it was then that Rafferty realised why Isabella was annoyed and why she had told him to dress nicely. Sitting on the sofa, in exactly the same spot as on Christmas Day, was Natalie.

  She stood up as they entered and smiled confidently. Rafferty was motionless. Natalie walked to him, put her hand on his arm, leant up and kissed him on the cheek. Karen just stared at her. She had recognised her immediately. Natalie was very recognisable.

  Rafferty covered his surprised look with a forced grin.

  Isabella took control.

  ‘Natalie flew in from California first thing this morning. She enjoyed her Christmas stay so much she’s come to visit again for New Year.’

  Natalie smiled, Karen smiled and Rafferty frowned.

  They sat and drank tea. Richard Tobias came in wearing a cravat.

  ‘They’re all the rage,’ he said theatrically. His attention focused on Karen. ‘…and who is this lovely young woman?’ he said.

  Rafferty made the introductions.

  ‘This is Karen Brekke,’ he said, ‘Karen this is Richard Tobias.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, my dear,’ he said and took her hand with a smile.

  ‘You have a wonderful house, Mr. Tobias,’ she said.

  ‘Call me Richard. I’ll show you around later,’ he promised. He released her hand and they sat down.

  For ten minutes, they chatted politely. Rafferty and Natalie made eye contact. She smiled.

  Karen asked Natalie questions about Hollywood and the other stars she knew.

  Rafferty excused himself. He glanced at Natalie as he left the room. Outside, he waited. Two minutes later, Natalie appeared. Rafferty grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the library.

  ‘What’s going on? What are you doing here?’

  He was cross, and he still had hold of her arm. Natalie looked repentant.

  ‘I’m sorry. I wanted to see you. I thought it would be a nice surprise. I miss you,’ she said with tears turning her eyes shiny. Rafferty relaxed and released her arm.

  ‘I told you I’d call today,’ he said. ‘I thought you were going to that fancy dress party you told me about.’

  ‘I was going to go but then I had this idea of flying overnight and surprising you. I’m sorry,’ she said and lowered her eyes. ‘It was a bad idea.’

  Natalie began to cry.

  Rafferty regretted being so harsh.

  ‘What were you going to wear to the fancy dress party?’ he asked.

  Natalie lifted her eyes and then sniffed. Her face cheered up as she looked at him and thought about his question.

  ‘I was going to wear an Arabian princess costume, with a veil and jangling gold coins.’

  He smiled at her.

  ‘Did you bring it with you?’ he asked.

  She smiled too and then pressed against him. He put his arms around her.

  Back in the drawing room, Isabella was explaining to Karen how a famous Hollywood actress came to be staying in their house.

  ‘That’s very interesting,’ Karen said.

  Karen could tell from Isabella’s reaction that she was right about Rafferty.

  Rafferty returned to the drawing room first. The pre-lunch champagne was flowing and he lifted a glass of beer from the tray.

  Natalie came back and Richard immediately offered her a glass of champagne. Her eyes were bright. She sipped the cold wine and smiled at Isabella.

  Karen sat on the sofa balancing a glass of champagne on her knee. Now, she knew the reason for Rafferty’s trip to Los Angeles. She glanced at Natalie and then at Rafferty. She felt a sudden emotional reaction. Her body hadn’t given her any warning. She was surprised by it, not least because of its strength. She took a sip of champagne while she smoothed her dress and tried to bring the smile back to her face. She stared at Rafferty. Karen couldn’t make any sense of her feelings. Then, she understood. She realised Rafferty possessed the one characteristic in a man that provoked her, unconsciously, and that characteristic was ruthlessness. It was a realisation that troubled her. She asked to use the bathroom.

  ‘I’ll show you where it is,’ Natalie said.

  ‘Thank you, Natalie,’ Isabella said gratefully.

  Natalie led the way and they left together.

  Inside the bathroom, Karen stared at her own reflection.

  Strong emotions and physical reactions were not what she wanted.

  At the lunch table, Natalie sat beside Rafferty.

  ‘So what did you do last night?’ she asked.

  ‘Work,’ Rafferty said.

  Karen glanced at him.

  There was a short pause before Natalie said, ‘Karen told me you went out together.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. We went out together working.’

  ‘How can going to a bar be work?’

  ‘It was intelligence gathering,’ he said.

  Natalie returned to her lunch.

  Rafferty looked at her. Something was wrong.

  After lunch, Richard took his chance to show Karen the house.

  ‘How long have you lived here?’ she asked.

  Richard stopped for a moment while he thought.

  ‘I bought the house in nineteen sixteen. In the springtime,’ he said, and then paused while he remembered. He smiled. ‘So, it’ll be forty-eight years this year.’

  Karen smiled back.

  ‘That’s a long time,’ she said.

  ‘It doesn’t seem that long.’

  ‘It must be a nice house for children,’ Karen said.

  ‘Young Rafferty seemed to like it,’ he said. ‘I used to call him young Rafferty.’

  They stepped outside onto the decked terrace and gazed at the view across the grassland to the reeds and the water beyond.

  ‘Yes, he must have loved growing up here,’ Karen said.

  ‘Yes, he did,’ Richard said.

  ‘What was he like?’ she asked. ‘Was he a little horror?’

  ‘No, well behaved. He loved to hunt. The local birds lived a high-risk existence. I remember he used to return carrying them lifeless dangling from his belt.'

  ‘I bought him an air rifle one year for Christmas. The bird population has only just started to recover,’ Richard said. ‘He was an excellent shot.’

  Karen smiled. He hasn’t changed much, she thought.

  47 New Year’s Day, 1964, Manhattan, New York

  Manhattan welcomed them back from Long Island like black sheep returning to the fold.

  The Rolls Royce had driven away from Players and Karen had watched the mansion disappear from view. She had wondered if she would ever return.

  During the drive, Natalie had sat on the other side of Rafferty and monopolised him.

  Karen had been silent, watching the scenery pass by and thinking about her conversation with Richard Tobias.

  Karen didn’t like Natalie. Dislike was an unpleasant emotion, despite its honesty, and she would rather she didn’t feel it.

  ‘Karen,’ Rafferty had said.

  She hadn’t looked immediately. Then she had turned her head in response.

  ‘Shall we take you to your apartment?’

  ‘Thanks, that’ll be great,’ she had said.

  Rafferty had spoken to Robert and the driver had nodded his head.

  Now, they were outside her apartment in the Village. A sharp wind tugged at the car door and blew her hair across her face. She moved it away and thanked him for taking her. She said goodbye to Natalie. Natalie smiled. Karen ran up the steps to her apartment building door and went inside. Rafferty watched her.

  Rob drove away and headed for the Upper East Side.

  The Rolls parked on Fifth, outside Rafferty’s apartment. He carried Natalie’s two
cases from the trunk.

  ‘Thanks, Rob,’ Rafferty said.

  Inside, they rode the elevator. The apartment was cold and dark.

  ‘Would you like to see a movie?’ he asked.

  Natalie smiled.

  ‘We could watch one of yours,’ he said. ‘Are any of them any good?

  They went to Times Square.

  On the way, Natalie ran through the possible movies they could see.

  ‘Well, there’s the comedy, It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World; probably a bit silly. The two historical epics, Cleopatra or Lawrence of Arabia; no, they’re probably too long for you; you’ll get bored. What else is there? Oh yeah, there’s Charade. It’s a romantic thriller,’ Natalie said, pausing and pretending to study Rafferty’s face. ‘No,’ she said, deciding it was not for him. ‘I suppose it needs to be a war film. Let me think. There’s The Longest Day; very realistic, apparently. I’ve not seen it. You might find fault with it. ‘That could never happen,’ she said, putting on a deep voice and trying to sound like Rafferty, and then she laughed at her own comedy. ‘Okay, I know, I’ve got it, the perfect film for you. The Great Escape: it’s set in a World War II German prisoner of war camp; the Americans and British dig tunnels to escape. It has Steve McQueen in it, on a motorcycle. You’re going to love it,’ she said, confident of her choice.

  ‘Have you seen it?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, but I don’t mind seeing it again.’

  It was playing at Times Square Theatre on West 42nd Street. The Selwyn brothers had built the movie theatre in 1920 and it still possessed the real theatrical quality of the old Broadway. They entered through the big double doors and the foyer bustled with nostalgia.

  ‘Wait here while I buy the tickets,’ Rafferty said, and then disappeared into the crowd.

  Natalie noticed two teenage girls staring at her. She thought they might have recognised her. She turned away quickly. She told Rafferty when he returned.

  ‘Those two girls keep staring; I think they recognise me,’ she whispered.

  He looked for the two girls but they had gone.

  ‘Do you want popcorn?’ he asked.

  They found their seats and the theatre was soon full. The lights went down, a hush descended and then the giant silver screen burst into life. They became monochrome. Light from the flickering picture played on their faces. Rafferty appeared hard and frightening. Natalie shivered.