"A gentleman never tells. But, I think we may be moving into a new phase." Having reached the bottom of the steps he turned right and casually sauntered over to the receptionist's desk where Vickie was busy making entries into a large logbook of the visitors and supplicants of the previous day. She looked up, a pleasant expression of surprise on her face, although Julian, not one to miss very much, had seen her surreptitiously glancing at him while he was descending the stairs and he knew that she had been hoping he would stop by her desk and talk to her. I've got her hooked, he thought. Now she has to be played just right. "Good morning Victoria. I didn't see you at your desk when I came in and, I have to admit, I was disappointed. Just seeing you makes any day better."
Kent grinned to himself and slowly shook his head as he donned his coat and headed for the door. The morning air was cold but the sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky, and once outside he left his coat unbuttoned, his gloves in the pockets and his scarf draped loosely over his neck while he stood facing the sun, turning his face upward to feel the warmth. He felt that his life was finally improving and that warmed him as much as the fiery star overhead. The end of the war was in the offing and his prospects for afterward seemed better than they had been in years. Between the State Department and the nest egg he hoped to acquire soon they would finally be able to have the kind of life that his wife so wanted. She'll be proud of me. Kent Mallory stood there, a smile on his face, basking in the calidity, both from without and from within, while he waited for Templeton. After about five minutes he heard the door swing open and he turned in time to see Julian waving an almost starry—eyed farewell to Vickie, a most out of character tableau for a man so practical and calculating. However, he thought, perhaps it was very much in character. Julian was a planner and a plotter, preferring to leave as little as possible to chance, to cover all contingencies. He was always focused, goal oriented and did whatever was necessary to achieve his desired end, and the objective here was obvious, at least to Kent if not to Vickie herself.
"Sorry to keep you, I just had to firm up our plans for tonight."
"On to a new level."
"As I said..."
"I know, a gentleman never tells." So what's going on with 'Herr General'?"
They were out on the street now, heading in the direction of the park, and Templeton paused, checking his pockets as if looking for something, then turning back toward the office seemingly wondering if he might have left it there. It was a convenient way to make sure no one was within earshot. "I'm not sure but it probably has to do with actually finding the location of the material we need to retrieve. Remember, you said that Waldman had information that Schroeder's girlfriend held the key to the location, had some kind of information that would lead to it although she was most likely unaware of the significance of whatever this nexus was or even in what form it existed. I've been thinking about that and it must be that Heinrich is going to give our agent some innocent sounding question to ask her, the response to which will lead him to the package, or else have him get her to look in some location where he's hidden the information."
"So what is it that I need to do in Lugano?"
"Review the operational plans and contingencies we discussed. Listen carefully to anything he has to say. You'll have to evaluate it critically from an operational point of view. Think about the plan that we have. Will his information allow us to succeed? Try to identify the weak links and see if there is more info he might be able to give you that will allow us to institute fail-safe procedures. Remember, he wants this to succeed as much as we do, maybe even more. Without a ticket out, his future is rather bleak at best."
"OK, I'll go to the station as soon as we're done and be on the 6 AM train tomorrow. I need to ask you, though, about the letters you left for me in my apartment. It was you who broke into my apartment, wasn't it?"
"I did leave the letters for you, but I didn't have to break in. Your landlord has seen me with you and knows we're friends. I just told him you called me from out of town and asked me to check on some business papers for you and to leave your mail. A five-dollar bill helped overcome any compunction he may have had. There's a lesson here. Don't make things more difficult than they have to be. Why break the law by picking your lock when there's an easier and more direct way?"
"OK, so you didn't bust in, but why did you feel the need to deliver my mail? And, speaking of the mail, did you read Helen's letter?"
"No, that's a personal communication and doesn't concern me." Kent didn't believe him.
"Then what was the meaning of that note you left me?"
"Well, I can see you're starting to think more analytically and that's good. You're making connections." They had reached the ornate metal gate to the park and Julian motioned to it with a nod of his head. "It's made an impression on you." Kent followed his gaze and remembered their discussion, or rather, Julian's lecture. However, he did not let himself be diverted. He pressed his point.
"What did that note mean?"
"Look, I didn't read the letter from your wife. As a matter of fact I didn't have to. From all you've told me, and that was more than you should have, by the way, I could guess what the gist of the letter was. It was the same as all the others. What I meant was that I hoped you were OK with our plan and that it fit in with your own goals for the future. I certainly don't want to get you pissed at me. You're an integral part of this operation and a nice guy besides."
"I'm not pissed. I was only thinking....I'm not even sure what I was thinking. I guess I was just bothered by how low on the totem poll I still am. Actually, I think we have a good plan here and I'm anxious to get on with it. I truly believe it will be the beginning of the ascendancy of Kent Mallory."
Julian had paused at the park entrance and now he turned away from the entrance. "I've got a few things to do. Find me as soon as you get back. We're on a tight deadline now; the field agent will be leaving soon and we'll have to brief him. It will take finesse to handle both him and Schroeder. Heinrich has to supply him with certain specifics and that has to go through one of us so we can make sure the agent has the information we want him to have."
"There's one more thing, Julian. It's about the agent." Mallory, even though he was a relative novice and had little experience in planning clandestine operations, realized that Waldman and the OSS field agent were on a collision course and that the impact would take place somewhere in Germany, on Waldman's home turf. "I..." Something held him back. His concerns could not be expressed. Perhaps it was simply that his conscience had been tethered. "It's not important; I'll talk to you when I get back."
Julian's face clouded over fleetingly, to be replaced immediately by a smile, although his eyes retained their flinty appearance. "OK, then. Have a good trip. And Kent, welcome aboard. I think you've really joined the team now." He held out his hand and grasped Kent's as if he were accepting a new salesman into his company. The firmness of his grip was not lost on Kent and after a few seconds Julian released him and pivoted on his heals to take off for whatever business or errands he had to do. By the time he completed the turn, the smile had faded from his face and his expression was not at all pleasant.
Later that night, while Kent was thinking about his early morning trip to Lugano and trying to make a mental list of possibilities, contingencies and questions to be asked, Julian was escorting Vickie back from a romantic little restaurant where they had shared delicacies one would have thought impossible in wartime. It was all a question of connections and money, and although Templeton had just enough of the latter for his immediate needs, he had a true abundance of the former. By the time they had finished their meal and drained a second bottle of wine, all of the other diners, only a handful actually, had left and they were alone with Wilhelm the Maitre d' and a forlorn looking waiter who seemed anxious to leave. He kept alternately shuffling his feet and pacing back and forth despite the occasional glare from Wilhelm. Julian asked for coffee, commenting that it was the final complement to a good
meal, that it added just the right flavor and ambiance to bring a good dining experience to a close.
The waiter, who appeared immediately at their table as soon as Julian looked his way, seemed somewhat confused and disconcerted by the request. Wilhelm, ever observant, swept over to the table, dismissing the waiter with a slight sideways jerk of his head. He looked most apologetic as he began, "Sir, I am so very sorry but we are out of coffee. The war makes it so difficult to obtain all that one needs to provide the kind of service that we pride ourselves in." His voice seemed to ooze regret, almost to the point of obsequiousness. All that was needed was a wringing of the hands and a beating of the breast.
Julian's face clouded briefly, to be replaced by a smile as he said, "That's OK, Wilhelm, it was still a wonderful dinner, nothing can change that." Victoria, too, had a sorrowful look, more so than her companion across the table for she was ever conscious of the feelings of others, even over so minor a disappointment. She reached out her hand and placed it on his, and then her face brightened.
"Let's go to my place. I have a little coffee I was able to get from a friend who knew someone who knew someone who, well, you get the picture." With a coy look, she added, "You're not the only one with connections."
"Thank you, Victoria, that's really very nice, but it's not necessary."
"It's the least I could do after such a nice evening. I insist. Let's go."
"Well, OK, but I'm not sure it would be considered proper."
A dismissive wave of her hand. "It's only coffee. And besides, the entire world is at war and we all have to do our part." An impish smile.
"Wilhelm, the check please." The maitre d' placed the bill on the table and discretely withdrew, a look of relief on his face, a look that had nothing to do with coffee since his pantry was well stocked with tins from various countries; he was simply glad that his part in the charade was at an end. He signaled to the waiter who already was holding their coats and when he brought them to the table Julian took Vickie's and helped her on with it, making sure as he did so that his face brushed her hair and his breath fell softly on her neck. They walked to the door preceded by the waiter, who opened it with a flourish, now only too happy to extend them every courtesy since they were finally leaving.
Wilhelm watched their exit, a smile on his face, but when they glanced his way he looked apologetic and gave a dejected shrug as if to say, "What can one do? This war is so inconvenient." Had he been French, perhaps his thoughts about the little ruse would have been, "Ah, amore," but, coming from a long line of Swiss burghers, his thoughts were more like, "Ten American dollars to say I'm out of coffee; now that's an easy profit. And its value is sure to appreciate, since it's obvious to anyone, except perhaps Hitler, that the allies will soon be in control of Europe."
Arm in arm Julian and Vickie walked out into the chill night to begin the trek to her apartment. Taxis were not plentiful, especially at this hour, so they were resigned to having to go by foot. For the first two blocks the pleasant meal digesting in their bellies and the residual warmth of the blazing fire in the little restaurant protected them from the frigid alpine air. By the time they had started the third square the cold had insinuated itself and they clutched their collars against the wind. At the fourth street the pale sliver of moon was overrun by dark ominous clouds and within two minutes it began to rain, lightly at first then more heavily, rapidly developing into one of those mini squalls endemic to the alpine territory. They picked up the pace but within minutes the rain had penetrated their outerwear and soon mingled with the sweat forming on their skin as they panted from the exertion of their rapid clip. Victoria silently cursed as her makeup began to run and her hair lost its shape. Julian, on the other hand, was exhilarated by the additional possibilities that would soon be available. It was several more blocks before they reached her street and she was making soft whimpering sounds although Julian, through his peripheral vision, was sure he could see her mouthing decidedly unladylike curses. As they came in sight of her building she cried out, "Finally. Oh, Julian, I feel so bad and I must look a complete mess."
"Nonsense. First of all, it's only water, cold water, but nonetheless, just water. And most importantly, you could never look anything other than beautiful, which is exactly how you look now. Of course you are kind of wet; actually, very, very wet, but still spectacular." They had reached her place and stood on the stoop. He looked at her with a big boyish grin on his face, and in the middle of fumbling for her keys Vickie, too, began to smile while Julian chuckled ever so slightly. When he saw that she began to giggle he let his become a hearty laugh and soon they were holding on to each other, laughing and standing in the downpour.
"You're a true gentleman, Mr. Templeton, to make your lady feel good no matter what." She looked up at him, the rain having washed away her makeup, and she was truly beautiful. Their bodies leaned toward each other and they kissed, a tender yet not tentative touching of the lips. She was smiling when they separated. "Hurry," she said and handed him the keys. Once inside the entrance foyer they stood for a moment while the rain sluiced off them onto the stone floor. "Better here than in my apartment. I can come out later and wipe up." She took back her keys and walked to the rear of the building, stopping before a large plain door of dark, highly polished wood. "Here I am." A prominent handle was surrounded by an ornate, oversized metal plate with intricately carved and detailed cherubs, an architectural non sequitur. She inserted a hefty brass key into the latch and turned it smartly, the tumblers emitting a loud click. Victoria turned the handle and pushed open the door, standing aside to let Julian enter. However, he held the door and motioned her in.
The first thing that he noticed was the heat. He looked around the large enclosure that served as both living room and bedroom and saw a banked fire in a corner fireplace but knew that that could not be the source. Victoria followed his gaze and seemed to know what he was thinking. "The super here keeps the heat on later than most places and I take advantage of it whenever I'm out in the cold weather. I hate coming in to a frigid apartment. And in case the heat is off, I keep a fire banked and ready to go."
"I'm very impressed. Did they teach you that in steno school?"
"Hardly. England, you may recall my dear sir, can be rather cold and damp. You learn about fires at an early age and it's not something you forget." She slid out of her coat, pulled a chair from the dinette set over to the fire and draped it over the back, motioning Julian to do the same. She placed a fresh log on the fire and stirred it to life. "There's only one bathroom and I'm going to pull feminine rank and use it first. I've got to get out of these wet clothes but I'll get you a robe first. There's a bottle of brandy on the cart over there. Why don't you pour us each one and I'll make coffee when I come out." She disappeared into a walk-in closet and pulled out a heavy, white terry cloth robe, which she gave him, then returned for a few items and vanished into the bathroom.
He stood there for a moment holding the robe and staring at the closed door, imagining her wet body as she undressed, the moisture sparkling on her skin. Then he thought what it would be like pressing his body against hers, her slick skin sliding over his flesh. He shook himself free from the brief reverie and quickly shucked his clothes until he was standing completely naked in front of the fire, enjoying both his nudity and the warmth of the flames. His skin quickly dried and he slipped into the robe, cinching it about his waist, before pouring two generous glasses of brandy. Julian swallowed a mouthful of the dark amber fluid from one of the glasses, refilled it and placed both on the cart to await the return of Vickie. Still standing, he turned to survey the room. Along one wall was a large day bed, covered by a quilted spread and topped by assorted pillows and a few stuffed animals. To one side was a nightstand with a delicately crocheted cover, probably English he thought, perhaps Swiss, but really couldn't be sure since it was an area that had never concerned him. On the other side of the bed was a heavy looking armoire, which Vickie had tried to "lighten up" by hanging a few
sachets in colorful fabrics from the handles and draping a few ribbons along the top. Across from the bed was a short hall that led to the bathroom, and next to the hall was a smallish kitchen. In front of the kitchen was the dinette, and along the remaining wall space was the cart that served as a liquor cabinet, and an adjacent table, a sideboard which he presumed would be used for serving. A series of windows looked out on a small garden to the rear of the building and occupied most of the wall with two chairs filling the remaining space. The large entrance door was opposite the windows and was flanked by a table and mirror on one side and a sinuously curved hat rack on the other. Having taken the measure of the room he was about to sit on one of the chairs by the windows when Vickie emerged, wrapped in a light pink bathrobe that was delicate and feminine yet seemed quite substantial. English to the core. Her hair, though still damp, was fluffed and she had put on just a touch of face powder and lipstick. What skin he could see had a pink glow due, at least in part, to the action of the towel she must have used to dry herself. Julian was truly taken aback at how beautiful she looked and his ardor rose to new heights, apart from any allure he may have had for the conquest itself.
"You're even more beautiful when you're dry." They both smiled and he handed her one of the drinks. Victoria took a sip, quickly followed by a more generous pull then took his hand and led him to the chairs by the window.
"We can sit and listen to the rain while we have our drinks."
"I believe it stopped already. You know these mountain storms."
"Oh my. Well I guess we'll just have to listen to music then." She downed the remaining brandy in a single gulp, bounded out of her seat then, slowing considerably, seemed to flow over to the closet from which she pulled a small table on which sat a Victrola. Vickie gave the crank a few turns, then carefully placed the needle on a disk already on the player. The tinny sound of some band emanated from the front of the instrument and the lovely woman in pink swayed with the music as she returned to where Julian sat and held out her arms. "Would a gentleman care to ask a lady to dance?"
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