“Just for a drive... you’ll be safe—we won’t take many chances,” Brad laughed casually.
They were in the car on the road that led to Bien Hoa. The rains had stopped and the road had dried enough so clods of the red dirt whumped under the car as they sped along. Brad was feeling the liquor as was Lia.
Turning to her he said calmly, “I’m leaving tomorrow for the States and this has to end before I go. I know that you’re a goddamned spy and you’ve been playing games with the Soviet KGB. I know that every time you take your little trips to Paris, you’ve been handing over information to the Russians. You have played Perkins like a fiddle but you haven’t fooled everybody.”
“Everybody?” she countered. “Who is everybody? Does that mean that you know everything Kelshaw does? Did he tell you about the big time defector?”
“Defector? What are you talking about?” Brad pressed.
“I hear lots of things... do you? Why don’t you ask George Kelshaw? Aren’t you on the top secret inner circle with Georgie? Even Phillip Durkan knows more than you,” she goaded. “What do you think Kelshaw would do if he knew you had given me the information on the POW’s that got back to the VC? So you found out that I have some powerful friends in Moscow—so what?”
Lia moved closer, “If you knew, why didn’t you do something to stop me, Baby?” she whispered huskily. “You and I both know why, don’t we?” she said as her hand caressed his thigh. “I told you before that it isn’t going to end unless I want it to and I don’t! Get used to it, Colonel Baby, I’ll be waiting when you get back... taking care of Paul Thayer was my pleasure,” She laughed.
“Brad had stopped the car. She saw the gun in his hand and began pleading. “No, Baby, no! You don’t want to do this. I won’t bother you more... please, please don’t.”
“Get out of the car,” he demanded angrily, “Now! I’ll be doing my country a favor. Go on get out!” She shook her head defiantly. Not waiting, he fired...the bullet entered her left side and her eyes widened in horror. She slumped as Brad reached across and opened the door and pushed her out. Getting out he walked around the car to where she lay on the ground; standing over her he muttered, “We could have ended this another way, but you wouldn’t listen, you stupid...” He fired again and prodded her body with the toe of his boot.
Lia lay crumpled in the red dirt at the side of the road. He fired once more saying, “That one was for Paul,” then Brad calmly returned to Saigon. He needed a shower and good night’s sleep before leaving with Paul’s body the next day.
✽✽✽
It was after 10:00 PM when Brad drove into his driveway in Alexandria. He couldn’t put Olivia off any longer. “Maybe she’s gone to bed,” he said to himself.
Opening the front door he saw a light from a door ajar in the den.
“Is that you, Brad?” she called out.
“Yes Olivia, dear,” he said opening the door. He saw a small fire burning in the fireplace. Olivia was seated in a comfortable leather chair close to the fire. Her hair was loose like she worn it when they first met. He thought how really lovely she was. “You waited up... I’m sorry to be so late, but it was unavoidable.
“She nodded understanding, then said, “Sit down, Brad. Would you like a drink? I’m going to have one.”
Brad was surprised, his wife rarely decided to imbibe alone. He quickly moved across the room to a small bar saying, “Stay seated, I’ll fix us one; what would you like?”
“Bourbon and soda will be fine for me,” she said softly.
Brad prepared the drinks and handing her one he said lightly, “All right, my dear, you have some questions. I’ll be glad to clear up anything that I can, to ease your mind.” Brad took a long drink and waited.
She smiled, “Thank you, Brad. I want you to tell me about the letter from Paul that Charlene received and then I want you tell me about George Kelshaw. Most of all I want to know why you felt you had to lie to me.”
Brad was ready with his reply, “The problem Charlene called me about was a letter from Paul, but it was a letter written about a year after the car bomb that we assumed killed Paul in Saigon.
“At first I didn’t believe it could have been authentic and I didn’t want to upset you, but I have since have found out that it is. It was not Paul that was killed; he died on a black mission and no one knew.”
Olivia gasped, shocked to hear about Paul. “Wha-what about George Kelshaw?” she stammered. “Charlene told me he had been murdered in Seattle.”
Brad was rapidly thinking on his feet. “George Kelshaw apparently got to Seattle on a freighter from Southeast Asia. He was attacked and killed before anyone could speak with him. The Seattle Police Department ruled it as a robbery/homicide by persons unknown. Kelshaw was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Why did you lie and tell Charlene and me that you didn’t know George Kelshaw?”
“What did Charlene tell you?” Brad sounded annoyed.
“Never mind, Brad... I’m asking you,” she said with forced patience.
“I did know George Kelshaw, but it was unbelievable that he could be alive after all this time. The last I knew he’d been taken prisoner in Laos and we never heard more about him. When the war was over and the POWs were returned and his name wasn’t on any list, we all assumed that he was dead.
“So you see my dear, I did not lie to you. The whole story was so surrealistic that—well, Olivia you know that I am a logical, rational man. It took some serious thinking and investigating to conclude that the letter that Charlene received was genuine. We now know that it was; someone else was killed in the car.
“Now shall we go to bed—I’m very tired.”
“Thank you, Brad for your very thoroughly logical explanation... yes, it is late. I have only one more question, and then we can go to bed. Brad, who is Lia?”
Brad was stunned; he blanched, stammering, “Lia... what are you talking about, Olivia?” His mind was reeling. What could she know?
“I’m talking about the woman that you were sleeping with in Saigon. Don’t deny it, Brad, I have my sources of information. Washington and the Army are small communities and people talk; you were not exactly invisible, people know us.”
“Did Charlene Thayer tell you?”
“No, Brad, she didn’t. Does Charlene even know? Did Paul know?”
Brad sunk into a chair, shaking his head, “Paul knew. When he found out, we quarreled; he didn’t want you to get hurt. I didn’t think he told Charlene. I told him it was over,” Brad paused, “Why didn’t you say something?” he asked wearily rubbing his forehead.
“Because I loved you and I had decided to let it go as a casualty of war. Our time together in Hawaii was such a special healing time and I loved you enough to forgive you almost anything. But you’ve lied to me and after listening to your very logical explanation about Paul’s death and George Kelshaw, I realize I don’t know you anymore, Brad. I have forgiven you, but how can I trust you?”
“Livy, what are you going to do?” Brad was visibly shaken. Brad had not addressed her by the pet name since Hawaii.
She paused for a moment, her hand on the back of his chair and then stated, “Right now I’m going to bed... you can have the guest room. I don’t know yet what I’m going to do.”
✽✽✽
Instead of the guest room, Brad remained slumped morosely in the chair in the den. His marriage, his world was falling apart. He couldn’t let it happen. He would plead with her and beg her forgiveness. She must forgive him.
The memories of Vietnam seemed so fresh. He had returned to Saigon in September of 1970 a few months after Paul’s death. He looked forward to leaving Vietnam for the last time. He and Olivia would be going to Germany. Now he would finalize his MACV responsibilities in Saigon and this time he wouldn’t have to deal with Lia; he had gotten rid of her just in time.
He was shocked when he returned to the embassy compound to find an angry T.R. Perkins packing his office getti
ng ready to leave.
“What’s going on, T.R.? Are you really retiring?” Brad asked incredulously.
“Retiring, hell, I’ve been fired!” He spit the words out with acute intensity. “They call it retiring, but I know they’re pulling my ticket.”
“Fired--why? What’s happened? I heard that someone killed Lia Dupre`,” Brad declared innocently.
“That’s right, Coleman, someone did and I still can’t believe it. Her family is devastated. We, her dad and I, sure as hell looked for whoever did it, but in the meantime I found out that she really was a damned spy. She had been passing information to the Russian Commies... so maybe one of them shot her.”
“How did you find that out...what convinced you she was a spy?” Brad asked inquisitively.
“Phillip Durkan caught her. He found out she had some major ties in Moscow as well as Hanoi. Durkan is a good man. They wanted him to fill in until H-Q assigns someone else to take over for me, but he said no. I think he’d really rather stay in the field and not be tied to a desk. He always reminded me of a caged cat after a few days in the office.”
Perkins continued, “Oh, yeah, you might be interested to know that the body you took back to the states might not be Thayer.”
“What are you talking about, T.R.? Did Durkan tell you that too? Who do they think it was and if true where is Paul Thayer?” Brad was stunned.
“Yeah, Durkan did tell me that. We don’t know the answer to either question. Thayer took orders from someone in the Pentagon and they didn’t bother to let our office know who. I have a hunch he and Kelshaw were hooked up with the same gang and probably with Neil Klein too.
“Word is that a high level Soviet General was looking to defect. Apparently somebody didn’t think my office should handle it...maybe Klein; I think he’s a climber... wants the recognition and you can bet your ass he knew who, where and what was coming down. I was really pissed-off for awhile. Now I say screw ‘em; I don’t need the goddamned cloak and dagger crap anymore!”
Perkins went on, “Oh yeah, about the guy that bought it in the car bombing, personally, I think it was an AWOL S.O.B, Bos Anderson. He was a low-life enlisted type that the Navy hadn’t weeded out. He got a scratch on a routine river mission and afterwards told a corpsman that he could make more money and have more fun in the black market and that no matter what, he wasn’t going back to combat.
“But who knows, Coleman? Maybe it was Thayer in the car after all. Anyway, good luck, Colonel; maybe our paths will cross stateside,” T.R. philosophized as he threw the last bit of paraphernalia from his desk into a box.
“Where’s Durkan now?” Brad queried.
“Who knows? I don’t know and I don’t care,” Perkins responded lightly. “I just want to pull my stuff together and move outta’ here. It’s been fun, but the fun’s done,” he quipped.
Brad offered, “I’m getting my ‘stuff’ together to go home too, T.R. and I’m looking forward to it. I’ve been here too long.”
Chapter 14
Sunday, September 28, 1980
Arriving at St. Mark’s shortly before services were over; Andrew had found a parking place close to the front of the Cathedral. While he waited in the car for Charlene, he pondered his and Jack’s conversations of yesterday. He thought about the listening device in his apartment, wondering what information had been heard. He and Jack had covered a lot of ground. What had Jim said? “Very sophisticated devices...”
His thoughts focused on Jack. He was seeing Jack in a different light. He was sure Hubbard was experiencing some sort of burnout, but the drinking was just a symptom of something much deeper. He hadn’t heard the rest of the story of Jack’s time with Kelshaw. He resolved to help his friend and mentor if he could.
With a sardonic chuckle he was thinking of what an unlikely turn his and Jack’s friendship had taken when he saw Charlene coming through the front doors of St. Mark’s. She was with a crowd of people who were stopping to greet and shake hands with the priest. She warmly greeted the cleric and smiled and exchanged pleasantries with some of the other members of the congregation.
When she saw Andrew she hurried to the car and said, “Just a minute while I get my tote from my car. I thought after we had talked with Father Ben we might take advantage of the sunshine and take a walk on the beach or something. By the way, it’s good to see you, Andy.” She ran to her car and grabbed a tote bag from the back seat and rejoined Andrew.
“Sounds like a good plan,” he said pleasantly. “It’s good to see you too. Let’s see,” he said looking at his watch, “It’s about 12:15 we have some time if you’d like to have lunch now.”
“Definitely, I’m starving,” she said cheerfully. “But I am holding out for a walk along the beach later unless you and Mr. Hubbard have another session scheduled for today.”
“Oh, no, no, Jack needed some time to regroup and then he was going to get together with a couple of the news editors today, socially I think. Besides, I needed to see you. We have a lot to talk about.” He took her hand and held it momentarily before backing out of the parking space and leaving St. Mark’s.
Over lunch he told her of Jim’s visit and what he had found, saving the discussion of his departure from the station until after their visit to the Center and their conversation with Neil Klein.
✽✽✽
Promptly at 2:00 the Seamen’s Center telephone rang. Father Ben answered and spoke briefly with Neil Klein before handing the phone to Charlene. She was still dismayed that their privacy could have been violated when Andrew told her the reason for the call taking place at the Center.
Taking the phone and saying, “Hello,” she heard the familiar voice of Evan Scott responding,
“Hello, Charlene, you met me as Evan Scott, but before we go any further I want to introduce myself, my real name is Neil Klein and I am the Assistant Secretary for Intelligence and Research for the US State Department.”
A moment of silence was followed by, “Oh so that’s who you are. Thank you for telling me. Why the call, Mr. Klein?”
“I have some things to tell you and I want you to listen to me very carefully. First, I want you to know how very sorry I am to keep you in the dark on some of the issues we spoke about, but for the time being it’s the way it has to be.
“You know that George Kelshaw’s death was related to his work and he was deliberately targeted.”
Charlene listened and then asked, “Of course, but what did his work have to do with me, with us? Other than Paul’s letter why are we affected by all this? And how long will this go on?” referring to the electronic surveillance.
“Charlene, Father Ben and Andrew were the last people to speak with George Kelshaw and he tried to call you. As this unfolds you will know more. I must ask you again to be patient and I promise it won’t go on much longer.
“On another subject, I understand General Coleman paid you a visit; did it go well?”
“It was a bit difficult at first, but I suppose you already know that since you have spoken with Andrew. The second meeting went better and Brad said that he would help me find the answers I’m looking for.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I really wanted to,” she said cautiously, “but, after I spoke with Olivia Coleman on Friday morning I’m not sure, I believe that Brad did know George Kelshaw. I also believe that you know a great deal more about what happened to Paul than you have disclosed.
“He did know George Kelshaw, Charlene.” Neil responded.
“At some future date I want to know who betrayed Paul. Can we agree on that?” She added.
“Yes, Charlene, we can agree, that when I’m able, I will tell you all I can. Back to General Coleman; I sense that while you consider him to be an old friend, you have some reservations. Follow your instincts and be careful, Charlene, sometimes people change.”
“I understand and I will be careful.” Charlene held the phone to Andrew, “He wants to speak with you.”
“Good, beca
use I want to speak with him too,” he said as he took the phone from Charlene’s hand.
“Neil, I thought you should know that Jim Savalza came by my place yesterday to inform me that you were right about the electronic surveillance. Jim wouldn’t even come to my door. He called me on a pretext to meet him out front because he was making a quick stop on his way home. The fact is he told me that the listening devices were so sophisticated that the guy who did the sweep said that it had to come from some ‘super spy’ agency. Does that ring any bells with you?”
“Andrew, that doesn’t surprise me, but it does confirm a couple of things. I hope you have been discreet in your conversations.” Neil replied calmly.
“I think that might be a problem. You see Jack Hubbard turned up on Friday and after dinner we crashed at my place and I got a blow by blow of the Hubbard, Kelshaw and Klein connection. Jack gave me a lot of history and I told him some things as well. To be honest, I was careless and stupid. I couldn’t believe that there would be any real interest in my place, but I guess I was wrong. I tipped Jack off as soon as I got back into the apartment so little else was said but...”
Neil interrupted, “Can you remember what you discussed, exactly?”
“I’m not able to tell you that.”
“All right, I understand; Charlene Thayer or Paul was one of your topics... and were there others as well, I and General Coleman for example?”
“Yes, you’re partially right; I’ll call you tomorrow morning from the Times.”
Neil cautioned, “Considering what you’ve told me, I want you to be extremely careful from here on out, Andrew. Without alarming her, urge Charlene to be extra cautious, in her conversations as well. I’ll call Savalza. Now I would like to speak with Father Lee before we end the call.
“Father Ben, George Kelshaw’s service will be on Wednesday; it will be private for family and close friends. I want you to know Myra Kelshaw, George’s sister knows of your help and support in the last hours of his life. She wants you to know that she is most grateful.”
While Rome Was Sleeping Page 33