"Ann Chambers protested as Bitter picked up his bags and started to walk to the buses. "Don't let him go!"
"I told him he didn't have to go," Canidy said. "But he's in one of his Commander Don Winslow of the Navy moods. You can't argue with him when he gets that way." As he hurried toward the buses, Ed heard Whittaker laugh. Then the duchess asked, "Commander Winslow?" Canidy told her of Commander Don Winslow, the dauntless, perfect, true-blue hero of a daily radio program for children. Just before he boarded the bus, Ed heard the duchess laugh.
The bus carried the C-54 passengers to a hotel requisitioned as a billet for newly arrived officers. He was given a small room that was furnished with a cot and a chair. Before long a bored major delivered an hour long lecture extolling the ancient virtues of the British people and their culture. He made it quite clear that being assigned to England, where one would have the opportunity to actually mingle with these people, was a great privilege.
The major was followed by a bored medical captain who delivered another hour long lecture, enlivened with color slides, of typical genital lesions one could expect if one became too friendly with English ladies.
When the lectures were over, a sergeant found him and sent him off to Naval Element, SHAEE A bus ran on a thirty-minute schedule between the transient hotel and Supreme Headquarters, Allied Expeditionary Force.
The sergeant told him he'd better take his luggage with him, since the Navy had their own officers' quarters.
Repacking and claiming his luggage made Ed miss the first bus to Grosvenor Square. And it was ten past two--and he hadn't had any lunch-when he finally found Naval Element-SHAEE A captain there told him that he had been placed on further TDY with the Offfice of Strategic Services, which was a super secret outfit located on Berkeley Square. He could wait for a car if he wished, but it was only a couple of blocks away.
A London bus splashed gritty slush over his overcoat as he walked to Berkeley Square, and he had to stand for several minutes outside a firmly closed door before he was finally permitted inside.
But the things turned immediately and vastly better.
A Lieutenant Colonel Stevens greeted him. A good-looking, older officer.
He was wearing a West Point ring. Ed was among his own.
"We've been expecting you, Commander Bitter," Stevens said. "Let me welcome you."
"Thank you, sir."
"I wonder what happened to Canidy, " It. Colonel Stevens said. asir? Xx "He borrowed our limousine to meet you at Croydon and spare you the Be Kind to Our British Cousins' lectures," Colonel Stevens said.
And then before Bitter could frame a reply, he raised his voice and asked, "Has Major Canidy checked in?"
"Sir," a man's voice, somehow familiar, called back, "he said when you're through with Commander Bitter to send him over to the Dorchester."
"He must have gotten tied up at SHAEF," Colonel Stevens explained.
And then he added, "Eighth Air Force did a photo recon of the Saint-Lazare sub pens yesterday. Canidy wanted to see what, if anything, they got."
"Yes, sir," Bitter said.
"Commander, I believe I'm supposed to brief you, but I would imagine that you're pretty well briefed on the problem itself already.
As well as its ramifications. I think I should tell you this, however, Despite what the DCNO thinks--he had a talk with Colonel Donovan--OSS was given this mission because Ike thought it was the sensible thing to do. It is not a conspiracy to make the Navy look foolish."
"Yes, sir." "Dick said he proposes to send you to see your friend Douglass, who has unfortunately become the expert on the target and its defenses.
And then you'll go see how the Aphrodite project is coming along at Fersfield. How does that sound?"
" Aphrodite project'?" Bitter asked.
Stevens chuckled. "The drone aircraft," he explained. "Dick Canidy is ap-j parently well read in mythology. Aphrodite, he informed us, is not only the goddess of love, she is the protectress of sailors. He further suggested that when they heard that name, as they certainly will, the Germans would be prone to associate Aphrodite with the WAC, who use her as their lapel insignia. We were all so dazzled that no one could think of an objection. The Aphrodite Project it is." "Canidy is full of surprises," Bitter said.
"Dick speaks very highly of you, Commander," It. Colonel Stevens said.
"Despite the motive behind your assignment to us, he thinks you'll be very useful." Stevens watched Bitter's face for a reaction. When he could detect none, he went on, as if he was doing something reluctantly that had to be done, "Commander, I think I should tell you that Canidy has been ordered to keep a close eye on you. The first time he suspects your primary loyalty is not to the Aphrodite Project--bluntly, that you consider yourself under a greater obligation to the Navy--he is to send you back to the United States on the next available aircraft. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir," Bitter said.
"Captain Fine has an identity card for you, Commander, and a set of orders that will permit you to move freely around without many questions being asked. Once you have those, there's nothing else for you to do here.
You'll work out of Whitbey House."
"Yes, sir," Bitter said.
"Can you come in, Stan?" Stevens called. A moment later, Captain Stanley S. Fine came into his office.
"You know Commander Bitter, Stan?" Stevens asked.
"Yes, sir," Fine said. "Good to see you, Commander. Welcome to the lunatic asylum."
"Take care of the paperwork, will you, Stan? And then take the Commander over to the Dorchester."
"Yes, sir."
"And, Stan, I want the Princess back."
"I understand, sir." On the way to the Dorchester, Bitter was given the answer to the question he dared not ask. The Princess was the Austin Princess limousine Canidy had had at the airport.
The entrance to the Dorchester Hotel was protected by sandbags stacked high around the revolving door, and the plate-glass windows that looked out onto Park Lane and Hyde Park were painted black and crisscrossed with tape to keep glass shards from flying if a bomb struck nearby.
But inside, the hotel was much as Bitter remembered it. The only difference seemed to be that most of the men and many of the women in the lobby and bar were in uniform.
Bitter was surprised that the British lady sergeant was at the table against the wall with the others. Another manifestation of Canidy's contempt for military customs. Enlisted people were not supposed to socialize with officers.
And officers were not supposed to demonstrate affection in public, either, he thought, when he saw that Ann Chambers was cuddled affectionately against Dick Canidy.
"Commander Don Winslow of the Navy," Canidy said, "and his ambulance chaser."
"The ambulance chaser," Fine said, "has been sent to reclaim the Princess."
"Oh, damn," the British enlisted woman said.
"And it's such fun to drive!"
"Besides," Whittaker said, the steering wheel is where it's supposed to be, right?" Whittaker, Bitter saw, was holding the duchess's left hand, on which she wore a wedding ring.
"Now that you've had your lectures, Edwin," Canidy said, "show us how you can charm the natives."
"Richard," the British woman sergeant said, for Christ's sake, leave him alone." That was astonishing behavior for an enlisted woman, Bitter thought, precisely the reason the customs of the service kept enlisted people separated socially from officers.
"Commander," the duchess said, "it seems only fair to tell you that for the last four days, we have heard nothing from Richard but glowing reports about you. I can't imagine why he's being such a shit to you now that you're actually here." A waiter appeared with one chair.
"I'm terribly sorry, Your Grace," he said. "But this is the only chair." Bitter saw that she quickly pulled free the hand Whittaker had been holding.
"We'll manage," the duchess said. "Thank you very much." Bitter found himself sitting beside the English female sergeant.
That made him uncomfortable, but there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.
Whittaker reached under the table and came up with two gray paper sacks.
"Scotch and applejack," Eddie," he said. "We're out of bourbon and rye." "I hate to admit this," Fine said, "but I'm growing to like the applejack." Under the circumstances, Bitter decided that he could not refuse drink, even though he really didn't want one.
"Scotch, please," he said.
The English sergeant shifted on the banquette seat so she could reach the ice bucket. With long delicate fingers she dropped ice in a glass, then extended it to Whittaker for the Scotch.
Bitter remembered her name, Agnes Draper.
When she handed him the glass, their fingers touched, and he wondered if Canidy was actually capable of trying to fix him up with a female sergeant.
He decided that he was.
Fifteen minutes later, It. Colonel Stevens came into the bar.
"I hate to break in on this happy little gathering," Stevens said.
"But I need a word with you, Dick. And you too, Stan." Fine and Canidy immediately got to their feet. Ann slid over on the banquette, and then Agnes Draper followed her, which meant that her hip was no longer pressing against Ed's.
Bitter watched Canidy, Stevens, and Fine elbow their way through the crowded bar to the lobby.
"They do that all the time, Eddie," Whittaker said. "Have their private little chats. I'm not sure if they really have anything secret to talk about or whether they do it for the effect."
"Oh, come on, Jimmy," the duchess said. "That's unfair!" "Hey," Whittaker said.
"You're supposed to be my girl. You keep taking his side, Ann'll come after you with an ax."
"No, I won't, "Ann said. "Anybody on Dick's side is on my side."
"Will you watch your mouth!" the duchess said to Whittaker. But she reached her hand out and rubbed the balls of her fingers over the back of his hand.
There was no question about it. Whittaker was emotionally involved with the duchess, and the duchess was a married woman. And she didn't really care much who knew about it. He told himself that it was none of his business, yet he wondered what Colonel Stevens, who must know, thought of it.
And then he wondered what Colonel Stevens wanted to tell Canidy and Fine.
Stevens, Canidy, and Fine went by elevator to the fifth floor of the hotel, then into a suite guarded by an American wearing a uniform with civilian technician insignia. Inside the suite, Stevens led them into a small study.
He took a manila envelope from his briefcase, and a page of a newspaper from the envelope. He laid it on a table.
"That came in an hour or so ago from Sweden," he said.
"You're not going to ask how things went at Horsham St. Faith?" Canidy asked.
"Eighth Air Force called and said the mission was accomplished," Stevens said. "Is there something I don't know?"
"I was at Horsham St. Faith when the photo recon plane returned," Canidy said icily.
"I didn't know that," Stevens said, evenly.
"It was pretty badly shot up. The copilot brought it back, but he dumped it on landing. The pilot died in the ambulance. Probably that was best. He had a large chunk of steel in his head. He would have been a vegetable anyway."
"Jesus, Dick!" Fine said.
"Dick, you can't think that you're in any way responsible," Stevens said.
"No, of course not. The Good Fairy ordered that recon mission.
Not me."
"It was necessary," Stevens said.
"I should have flown it," Canidy said. "Not some kid who graduated from high school last year. Some kid with maybe a hundred fifty hours total time."
"You know why that's out of the question," Stevens said.
"Tell that to the kid's mother," Canidy said. "I say' mother' because he didn't look old enough to have a wife."
"Like you, Dick," Stevens said, "he was a volunteer. And we could afford to send him." Canidy looked at him for a long minute.
"Was it Lorimer's idea that I couldn't go, Colonel," he asked, "or yours?"
"Mine," Stevens said. "If that angers you, I'm sorry." Canidy nodded. Visibly changing the subject, he went to the newspaper Stevens had taken from the envelope and looked at it. Then he pointed his index finger.
"Well, I'll be damned," he said. "Our old pal Helmut Shitfitz." Stevens chuckled. He was relieved that Canidy was going to let his unhappiness about the B-26 pilot drop.
"What's it say, Stan?" Canidy asked, handing the clipping to Fine.
"It's the Frankfurter Rundschau," Fine translated. "Of December 30.
The caption says' Dignitaries gathered at the memorial service for Oberstleutnant Baron von Steighofen. It lists them. One of them is von Heurten-Mitnitz.
And Eric's father. And our friend Muller, who is now a Standartenfuhrer, it would seem."
"What's a Standartenfuhrer?" Canidy asked.
"Colonel," Fine said. "The SS organization comparable to a regiment is a stan dart. Standartenfuhrer, regiment leader."
"You think that they went to see Eric's father?" Canidy said.
"That they got the postcard, in other words, and are still with us?" "Muller spent New Year's Eve," Stevens said, "--spent all night in the Kurhotel on New Year's Eve--with Gisella Dyer."
"The professor's wife?" Canidy asked incredulously.
"The professor's daughter," Stevens corrected him.