Ann pulled a high-collared cotton robe over her baby-doll pajamas, buttoned it, and then, her lips tight in determination, reached under it and pulled the cutesy-poo balloon-leg pajama pants off. The one thing she didn’t want Dick Canidy to think was that she was a cutesy-poo college girl.
Though it was a little wicked to leave her bedroom half naked under a thin robe, it gave her determination. There was no turning back now.
She went down the stairs to the foyer. A civilian security guard was sitting in an upholstered chair by the door to what had been a closet but now held a switchboard. Presuming everyone had gone to bed, he had pulled down his tie, removed his seersucker jacket, and hung his shoulder holster over the back of his chair. He looked up from his copy of The Saturday Evening Post, his face expressionless.
“Can’t sleep,” Ann said. “I think it’s probably the corn. I ate two dozen ears.”
He smiled. It was a friendly smile.
“That was nice, wasn’t it?” he said. “I had four lobsters. I think there’s some baking soda in the kitchen.”
“I think I’ll try a walk,” Ann said. “Then the baking soda.”
He leaned down then and came up with a flashlight. There were half a dozen of them, the funny-looking kind they had in the military services, with the lens and bulb at right angles to the battery case, lined neatly against the baseboard.
“Here,” he said.
“I won’t need that,” she said.
“The sailors may be a little nervous,” he said practically. “Better they see you coming than think somebody—like the officer of the guard—is sneaking around to check up on them.”
“Thank you,” she said, and took the light and walked out toward the boathouse.
If he’s not there already, it won’t be long.
They left Summer Place at half past seven. It was fifteen minutes to Lakehurst, and maybe another fifteen minutes to put everybody in the airplane, file a flight plan, and take off. It was about a hundred seventy-five air miles to Washington. At, say, a hundred fifteen knots, that was an hour and a half to Anacostia, call it two hours before they were on the ground. Then another two hours back to Lakehurst. He should be back about half past midnight.
Halfway to the boathouse, startling her, one of the sailors appeared suddenly out of the darkness, his rifle held diagonally across his chest.
“Can I help you, Miss?”
“No, thank you,” she said. “I’m just going to the boathouse.”
“Yes, Miss,” he said, and when she started walking again, he marched behind her.
Ann thought: These guys all had the riot act read to them after Douglass had glibly talked their way past the sentry on the road when we arrived. This nice-looking man had gotten the message. If I tell him I’m going to the boathouse, he intends to see that I go there and nowhere else.
As Ann climbed the outside stairway to Canidy’s rooms, she expected the door to be locked. But the door was open, and she let herself in. Did that mean he was home already?
There was nothing to do but turn on the lights, she realized. Otherwise, the young sailor with the rifle would climb the stairs and see if anything was wrong.
She snapped the switch. It was one big room, and he was not there. The bed was mussed, and the ashtray on the table beside it was full of cigarette butts. Half had lipstick on them.
That damned Charity doesn’t even have the decency to clean up after herself, Ann thought angrily.
She dumped the cigarette butts into a wastebasket under the washbasin, then searched in drawers and closets for clean sheets and pillowcases.
She had just finished making the bed when she heard footsteps on the wooden stairs. Suddenly absolutely unable to face Dick Canidy, she retreated first against the wall, then into a closet.
I’ll have to come out, she thought as she peered through a crack in the slatted door, but not this instant!
“Richard? You there?” a male voice called.
In a moment, she saw who it was. It was Eric Fulmar, someone everybody seemed to know but no one was willing to talk about.
“Shit,” Fulmar said, “nobody’s home.”
Now he’ll go. Please, God, make him go!
Eric Fulmar looked around the room, found what he was looking for—Canidy’s liquor—made himself a drink, and settled himself comfortably to wait for Canidy in the room’s one upholstered chair.
He didn’t have long to wait. An automobile was on the drive. A car door opened and closed, then she heard Canidy’s voice: “Thanks. Sorry you had to wait up for me.”
And then there was the sound of his footsteps coming up the stairs, apparently two at a time.
“What the hell?” Canidy said when he saw Fulmar. “Find everything you wanted?” he asked unpleasantly.
He was wearing his Air Corps uniform. When he took off the tunic, Ann was sure that he would want to hang it up, pull open the closet door, and find her hiding there. But there were two closets, and Canidy kept his uniforms in the other one.
“I found the booze,” Fulmar said.
“More important, how did you get in here? You’re supposed to be kept in the house.”
“If I wanted to leave here,” Eric said, “I could. I hate to tell you this, but your security is a joke.”
“What do you want, Eric?” Canidy asked.
“I want to talk to you,” Fulmar said.
There was a moment’s hesitation, and for a moment Ann thought he was going to send Eric Fulmar away. But he didn’t.
“Okay, we’ll talk,” he said. “Fix me a stiff one of those, will you?”
He disappeared. In a moment, there was the sound of splashing water. For a moment, Ann was confused. Then she understood what was going on.
My God, when he does that, it sounds like Niagara Falls. Or a fire hose!
Canidy flushed the toilet and came back into sight. He took the drink Fulmar had made and swallowed it straight down.
“Jesus!” Fulmar said. “That was a little quick, wasn’t it?”
“I drank about a quart of coffee so that I wouldn’t fall asleep on the way home,” Canidy said. “I hope that two or three like that, plus a warm shower, will overwhelm the caffeine. Make me another one, will you?”
Then he started to get undressed. He very neatly hung his trousers on a hanger, then tossed his shirt, his T-shirt, and his shorts on top of the soiled sheets.
It’s not even funny-looking, Ann decided. He’s beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, but that thing between his legs is ugly.
“I won’t be long,” Dick Canidy said to Fulmar. He disappeared again, and there was the sound of a shower running. Much more quickly than Ann expected, he reappeared, still naked, toweling his head. He made a quick swipe at the rest of his body, then wrapped the towel around his waist.
My God, ugly or not, I’m disappointed!
Canidy picked up his drink and went to his bed. He propped pillows against the headboard and arranged himself against it.
“Okay, Eric,” he said, “ask away. But make it brief, will you? This has been a bad day.”
“Where did you take Jimmy and Martin?” Fulmar asked.
“To Washington,” Canidy said.
“I know that,” Fulmar said.
“Okay,” Canidy said after a minute. “Why not? The OSS is starting a school in Virginia. Jimmy and Martin are going to be instructors.”
“What’s the OSS?”
“It stands for the Office of Strategic Services,” Canidy said. “We’re all in it. Colonel Donovan is the boss.”
“What are they going to teach?”
“Martin is a parachute expert. Jimmy is going to teach people to cut throats and blow things up.”
“I could teach that,” Fulmar said. “I could teach a lot of interesting Errol Flynn-type things. You’d be surprised how good the Berbers are at cutting throats.”
“I suppose you could,” Canidy said, “but as I’m sure you have already figured out for yourself, there is
some question whose side you are on in this war.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?” Fulmar said.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” Canidy said.
“Well, do you or don’t you, goddamn it?”
“No, I don’t,” Canidy said. “But right now, my opinion doesn’t count for a whole hell of a lot around here.”
“Well, what do they want with me? Since they don’t trust me?”
Canidy wanted to avoid answering that. “You can’t blame them, Eric,” he said, “for wondering.”
“Wondering what?”
“For Christ’s sake, figure it out yourself. You didn’t want to come to this country.”
“Bullshit!” Fulmar flared. “You were with me in that goddamned boat. I didn’t ask to get left behind over there. I was prepared to kill to get on that goddamned submarine, and you know it.”
“I mean the second chance you were offered,” Canidy said.
“What second chance?”
“You know damned well what I mean,” Canidy said. “You had to be tied up and smuggled to Gibraltar because you wouldn’t come voluntarily.”
“Who told you that?”
“Baker,” Canidy said.
“Shit!” Fulmar said. “It hasn’t occurred to you that he’s a lying bastard?”
Canidy was on a spot, and quickly moved to get off it. “And people have wondered why, since you’ve been here, you have made no attempt to get in touch with your mother.”
“‘Hi, Mom, I’m in the loony bin at Fort Knox’?” Fulmar said mockingly.
“Is that the reason?”
“You know the reason,” Eric said. “You and Jimmy. My mother doesn’t give a shit for me and never has. If that question came up, one of you should have said something.”
“You never tried to get in touch with my father, either,” Canidy said.
“‘Hi, Dr. Canidy! Guess where I am, Dr. Canidy?’”
“Okay,” Canidy said.
“But you can’t tell me what’s going on, right? Or you won’t.”
“I can’t,” Canidy said.
“You know, for years I always talked myself into thinking, so what that my mother doesn’t even want people to know I exist, and so what that my father made it pretty clear the big mistake of his life was not using a rubber when he screwed my mother. I’ve got another kind of family. I’ve got Sidi el Ferruch, and back in the States are my asshole buddies, Dick and Jimmy, and your good father. So what happens? The first chance el Ferruch gets, he sells me to that fucking Baker. And when I finally get together with you two, Jimmy acts like I have a swastika tattooed on the head of my pecker, and you’re not one fucking bit better; and I can’t even call Father Canidy, because if I do, I’d have to tell him I can’t come to see him, because you’ve got me locked up. He’s the only person in the world who’s ever given a shit about me, and I’m not going to have him worrying about me, or let him know what a prick his son is.”
“Jesus Christ!” Canidy said.
“Fuck you, Canidy!” Fulmar said, and Ann saw tears running down his face as he glowered angrily at Canidy.
“You know a German officer named Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz, I understand,” Canidy said.
“Yeah, I know him. He’s just like you, Canidy. Two peas out of a pod. If Baker hadn’t beat him to it, he would have had me tied up and sent to Germany. They would trust me there about as far as I’m trusted here.”
“Now, get your fucking emotions under control and think it over carefully before you answer me. From what you know of this guy, would he be useful to us?”
“No,” Fulmar said after a long pause. “What you’re asking is whether he would be a traitor. The answer is not any more than you would. Is that what this is all about? You think I can get to von Heurten-Mitnitz? You’re dreaming. No way.”
“One more question,” Canidy said. “If we asked you to, would you stick your neck out?”
“You’re asking would I go back to Morocco?”
“I didn’t ask that. But would you?”
“Yeah,” Fulmar said. “I’m not too bright, Dick. I trust people I shouldn’t. But if you tell me that it’s important that I go back to Morocco, Okay, I’ll go. Just one condition.”
“You’re in no position to ask for conditions,” Canidy said.
“I want a commission,” Fulmar said. “A real one, like Jimmy’s and Douglass’s and Bitter’s, not a phony one like yours.”
“Douglass is a major, Bitter’s the Navy equivalent, and Jimmy is a captain. They’re not going to give you that.”
“They made Martin a second lieutenant just because he had a college degree, he told me. I went to college. Second lieutenant would be okay.”
“Why is that important?”
“Because if I get killed going back to Morocco, I want to be brought home in a casket with a flag on it and buried as a soldier, not left over there in a ditch because I was just a dumb sonofabitch who was used by people he thought were his friends.”
“I’m your friend, you dumb sonofabitch. I always have been.”
“Right, sure. Two choruses of ‘For Auld Lang Syne.’ But for the time being, try to think of some way to turn good ol’ Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz into a traitor, right?”
“Yeah, and don’t tell anybody I told you to. I’ve already told you a hell of a lot more than I should.”
“Because you’re a nice guy, right?”
“No,” Canidy said, “because we need you, and because I decided that was the way to get you to help.”
“That sounds honest enough,” Fulmar said.
“I’ll raise the question of a commission as soon as I can,” Canidy said. “No promises.”
“Good enough,” Fulmar said.
“My father knows you’re safe in this country,” Canidy said.
“How does he know?”
“I told him. He was worried about you.”
“That’s all you told him?”
“That’s enough to get me locked up for the duration if anybody hears about it, so keep it under your hat.”
“I had diarrhea of the mouth a while back,” Fulmar said. “Keep that under your hat.”
Canidy got out of bed. “I’m going to call the sentry,” he said. “And he will escort you back to the house.”
“If you do that, the sailor sitting outside my door to keep me in the house will have his ass in a crack.”
“What did you do, make a rope from your blankets and climb out the window?”
“I didn’t need a rope,” Fulmar said.
“You could get back without one?”
“Watch me,” Fulmar said.
“No,” Canidy said. “You’re too valuable to have your balls blown off by a nervous sentry.”
“I don’t want that kid to get in trouble because of me,” Fulmar said.
“I’m going to let him worry a little for the rest of the night about your getting away from him,” Canidy said. “But I’m not going to squeal on him.”
Then he did something which surprised Ann and brought tears to her eyes. He put his arms around Eric Fulmar and hugged him. “Besides, asshole, if the sentry blew you away, I would miss you. You’re the only thing close to a little brother I have.”
They went out of sight, and Canidy called for the sentry and asked him to “escort Mr. Fulmar back to the house.”
When Canidy walked into the bedroom end of the room, she was leaning on the wall beside the closet.
“Oh, Jesus H. Christ!” he groaned.
“Hi!”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.
“That’s my intention,” Ann heard herself say, “but I’m not sure I like the tone of voice.”
“How much did you hear?” he asked.
“I got here a couple of minutes before Eric did,” Ann said. “I hid in there. I heard everything.”
“Wonderful!” he said.
“I’m not going to tell anybody,” she said.
>
“I’ll have to tell Donovan,” he said. “You understand what that means? You’ll be hauled away for psychiatric examination. It will take years.”
“Not necessarily,” she said.
He turned away from her and headed for the whiskey on the sink. She took a couple of steps after him. Now he spun around and angrily demanded, “What do you mean, not necessarily?”
“Bill Donovan called me in this morning and asked how he could be sure I wouldn’t write anything I shouldn’t. I gave him an answer that satisfied him. And it covers this situation, too.”
He opened his mouth to say something, stopped as if something shocked him, then moved his eyes to hers. His face was flushed.
What did he see that caused that?
And then in her reflected image in a dresser mirror, she saw what had shocked him. What he was looking at again now. Her leg, all the way up to her crotch, had escaped her bathrobe.
That happened when he startled me by spinning around like that.
She covered herself in a reflex action, then looked at his face. It was now red, and she saw him swallow.
“I’d love to hear what you told him,” Canidy said, his voice strained.
In for a penny, in for a pound, Ann decided.
She took a step toward him. In the process, her leg “escaped” her bathrobe again.
Is that what you want to see? Have a good look!
He looked, then looked quickly away.
“I told him that I love you,” Ann said softly, “and that I was consequently incapable of doing anything that would hurt you.”
Now his eyes met hers.
“What’s the matter with you?” he flared. “Are you crazy? Saying something like that? And what you said before—”
“That’s a distinct possibility,” she said. “Because the facts seem to be that I do love you, and I came here to—”
“Shut up!” Canidy interrupted furiously. “Just shut up!”
“—see if I could get you to—” she went on relentlessly.
“Shut up!” he screamed again. “Goddamn you, shut your mouth! You don’t know what you’re saying!”
She met his eyes and saw determination in them, and knew that she had failed. Her own eyes teared, and she felt a sob rising.
The Secret Warriors Page 24