said, smiling broadly, “that I intend to be a very old pilot.”
“Not the way you’re going, you’re not,” Stevens said. “But, okay, Richard, you have . . . just barely . . . made your point.”
“I presume Commander Dolan is physically up to it?” Bruce asked. “Specifically, that he’s had a recent flight physical?”
“It’s in his records,” Canidy said. “Look for yourself.”
“I just might,” Bruce said.
There was a Report of Physical Examination (Flight) in Lt. Commander Dolan’s records. Canidy did not think that David Bruce would notice the astonishing similarity between the handwriting of Commander A. J. Franklin, Medical Corps, USNR, who had signed the examination, and that of Lt. Commander John B. Dolan, USNR.
Canidy intended to see that the old sailor didn’t overexert himself on the flight. But he really wanted the old “Flying Chief” with his eight-thousand-plus hours in the air with him, heart condition or not. Experience was far more valuable than youth and health on a flight like this.
“It just makes sense for me to go,” Canidy argued. “It accomplishes what has to be done with the least fuss.”
Bruce studied him thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, “Ed?”
“You will take good care of Commander Dolan, won’t you, Dick?” Stevens asked, and when Canidy looked at him, Canidy knew that he knew who had signed Dolan’s flight physical.
“It’ll be the other way around, Colonel,” Canidy said.
“I think we should defer to Dick’s judgment,” Stevens said.
“So be it,” Bruce said resignedly.
Canidy thanked Stevens with a slight nod of his head. Stevens responded with a slight shrug of his shoulders. The message was clear. He had meant what he had said about deferring to Canidy’s judgment.
Canidy stopped by Capt. Dancy’s desk on his way out.
“Would you ask the Air Corps to furnish us with short-and long-term weather forecasts for from here to Casablanca, and from Casa to Malta, and from Malta to the Adriatic, starting right now?” he asked.
“I was afraid you’d talk him into it,” she said. “You want them here, or do you want me to send them out to Whitbey House with the courier?”
“Send them to Dolan,” Canidy said.
“Will he know what they’re for?”
“He will after I tell him,” Canidy said. “I’m going out there now.”
“I thought you would be staying in London,” she said.
“No reason for me to do that,” Canidy said.
“Yes, there is,” Capt. Dancy said. “She’s back. She called earlier.”
“You didn’t tell me,” Canidy said. It was more of a question than a reprimand.
“She said that she would be at Broadcast House until half past five, and after that at her apartment, if I happened to see you,” Capt. Dancy said.
Sometimes, Capt. Dancy realized, she was just a little jealous of Ann Chambers, for being young and pretty, and for being able to light up Dick Canidy’s eyes at the mere mention of her. And sometimes, like now, she felt like Canidy’s sister, or for that matter like his mother, happy that he had a nice, decent girl.
“You will call in when you decide where you’re going to spend the night?” Capt. Dancy asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Canidy said. Then he suddenly leaned across Capt. Dancy’s desk and kissed her on the forehead.
WOBURN MANSIONS, WOBURN SQUARE LONDON, ENGLAND 5 FEBRUARY 1943
Before the war, the private park in the center of Woburn Square had been an area of manicured lawns and flower beds and curving walks beneath ancient trees, all surrounded by a neat fence. Now, only the fence and the trees were left. A bomb shelter had been excavated, and several corrugated sheds had been erected by the Fire Protection Service to store firefighting equipment.
It had been needed. There were ugly gaps in the rows of limestone-faced houses where German bombs had landed. There had been twenty-four entrances on all four sides of Woburn Square in 1940. Now there were fourteen.
16, Woburn Mansions had not been hit, although the limestone facade had been darkened by the furious fires that had raged down the street on both sides; and there was plywood nailed over what once had been beveled glass windows in the entrance door.
But inside, it was much as it had always been, a quietly elegant building holding five large, floor-size apartments. The basement apartment and the one on the top floor were smaller than the three main apartments, but they all had large, high-ceilinged rooms and central heating, which was an uncommon luxury.
The first-floor flat, which would have been the second-floor flat in America, was occupied by Miss