my marshal’s badge, and said that I had been sent for him.”
“Any trouble?”
“The colonel was pretty upset, Sir, but that marshal’s badge worked. I told him if he had any questions, he should direct them to the Attorney General. Anyway, Jimmy came with us because he knew me. In the car, we told him—I thought we should, and I think Captain Douglass reluctantly agreed—about Miss Chenowith and his uncle.”
“I thought he knew about that,” Donovan said.
“I mean the business about where Mr. Whittaker died,” Canidy said.
“Oh,” Donovan said. “Was Cynthia at the house when you arrived?”
“She got there shortly after we did,” Canidy said. “So Whittaker took a bath and went to bed. In the master bedroom, which annoyed Miss Chenowith somewhat—”
“Canidy, please keep your differences with her out of this,” Donovan said, more reasonably than sharply.
“Yes, Sir,” Canidy said.
“What shape was he in?” Donovan asked.
“Sick and exhausted,” Canidy said. “I’m sure he has malaria, and Christ knows what else is wrong with him.”
“Vermin,” Douglass said. “He’s vermin-infested.”
Donovan shook his head. “MacArthur must have had him on the first plane out of Australia.”
“Yes, Sir,” Canidy said. “He told me he left Brisbane two hours after he got there.”
“At eight the next morning, Colonel,” Douglass said, “I went to the house on Q Street and checked on him. Then I called Steve Early. I thought as the President’s press secretary Steve would be able to reach the President immediately. I told him that Whittaker had just flown in from Australia with a letter from General MacArthur, and that he was under orders to deliver it personally to the President. I had the feeling, Sir, that Steve was surprised to hear about it.”
“And he carried the word to the President?”
“Thirty minutes later, the White House switchboard called. The President wished to speak with Whittaker. The Roosevelt and the Whittaker families have been friendly for decades, you’ll recall. If Whittaker was asleep, the White House said, we need not wake him, but he was to call as soon as he woke up.”
“Was he awake?”
“No, Sir,” Douglass said. “And I decided to let him sleep.” Donovan nodded approval.
“At half past two,” Douglass said, “I called you, and you told me you thought he had to return the President’s call. Canidy and I woke him up. He was sick. Shivering and nauseous. He insisted we give him something to drink. We did. That might have been the wrong thing to do.”
“Much?”
“A good stiff pull at the neck of a Scotch bottle,” Canidy said. “He said it would ‘keep the worms happy.’”
“And then I placed the call to the White House,” Douglass said. “The President came on the line in a minute.”
“Do we know what was said?” Donovan asked.
“I had a stenographer on the line,” Douglass said. “I have the transcript. But there wasn’t much. The President welcomed him home, expressed his condolences about Mr. Whittaker, and said that he wanted him to come for supper. Whittaker told him that he had MacArthur’s letter, and the President said he knew he did, and he could bring it with him.”
“You told Early, and Early must have told him,” Donovan said.
“Yes, Sir,” Douglass said. “And then Whittaker said, if it would be all right, he wanted to bring a friend with him.”
“Canidy,” Donovan said.
“Yes,” Douglass said. “And the President said fine, and that he and Mrs. Roosevelt both looked forward to seeing him.”
“Whittaker then said he wanted to catch up on his sleep,” Canidy said. “And asked us to wake him when it was time.”
“And you did?”
“We sent up a tray, in case he woke and was hungry. And we did what we could to make him look presentable,” Canidy said. “A rush dry-cleaning job on his uniform. At five-thirty, I went up and woke him again, and shaved him.”
“You shaved him?”
“He wanted more to drink,” Canidy said, “and I didn’t think he should have it. When I told him so, he held up his hands, which were shaking, and asked me how the hell he was supposed to shave, so I told him I’d shave him, and I did.”
“At six-fifteen I sent them to the White House, in the Buick,” Douglass said.
“Had he been given anything else to drink?”
“I gave him a drink in the car,” Canidy said.
“I told you not to,” Douglass said.
“I thought it was necessary,” Canidy said, unrepentant. “He was shaking, and he said he hurt. I think he had cramps. The drink seemed to help. In view of what was waiting for him