that straight?”
Canidy touched his forehead in sort of a salute.
“How’s Whittaker?” Douglass asked.
“He landed the plane just now,” Canidy said. “He’s all right.”
“Baker is very impressed with him,” Douglass said.
Canidy laughed.
“Why is that amusing?”
“Did Baker tell you Whittaker demonstrated how easily he could have cut his throat?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, he did,” Douglass said, which surprised Canidy. “He thinks we should put Whittaker in charge of training in that sort of thing at the school.”
“What school?”
“We’re starting a school for agents, new people in COI,” Douglass said. “When we can find the time, we’re going to run you through it.”
“I’m not sure I’d like that,” Canidy said.
“No one asked you,” Douglass said. “Baker also told me Whittaker has some good ideas about how to deal with Fulmar.”
“Yes, he does.”
“Well, for the time being, keep a close eye on them, but let Whittaker try his method.”
“I’d planned to,” Canidy said.
“Good,” Douglass said tightly. “Now to the business at hand. From this point, you and I will be talking about the African flight. It is classified Top Secret.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Captain Fine has been briefed on certain aspects of the mission and provided with certain documents. You will note that he has also been provided with a pistol and that there is provision to handcuff the briefcase containing the documents to his wrist.”
Canidy looked at Fine, then at the briefcase he held in his hand. It was handcuffed to his wrist.
“The documents placed in Fine’s possession are to be in one of five places,” Douglass said. “In his possession, in your possession, in Commander Reynolds’s safe at Lakehurst, in Eldon Baker’s possession, or in mine.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The lock has a sequence counter,” Douglass said. “It counts every time the case is opened. You will keep a record of those numbers. If you should ever open the briefcase and the number does not tally, you are immediately to notify Cynthia, Baker, or me. In that order.”
Canidy nodded.
“And any documents removed from the briefcase are to be returned to it before the case is shut again. The documents are not to be separated. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The details of this operation are known in full only to Baker, myself, and Chief Ellis. And, when we have finished filling each other in, to you two. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I have explained to Captain Fine your other responsibilities at Summer Place,” Douglass said. “And that you will have your hands full for the next few days getting everybody settled. So what I suggest you do, Dick, is put all this material in Reynolds’s safe tonight, when you get there, and forget it until after the Fourth.”
“When we get there this morning, you mean,” Canidy said, and then, puzzled, asked, “The Fourth?”
“The Fourth of July,” Douglass said “You remember, Independence Day? Parades? Fireworks? Patriotic speeches?”
“Jesus, are we going to celebrate it in the middle of a war?”
“Even more enthusiastically than before the war,” Douglass said. “Now it’s considered important for morale.”
“I know,” Canidy said, straight-faced. “I’ll see if I can’t come up with the makings, lobsters, beer, corn on the cob, that sort of thing, and then we’ll have a clambake on the beach.”
“That’s an idea, certainly,” Douglass said. “Why not?”
“If that’s all, Captain? And presuming you’re ready, Stanley?”
“Anytime,” Fine said. His eyes were smiling. He had caught Canidy’s sarcasm, even though it had sailed right over Captain Douglass’s head.
“Have a good flight,” Captain Douglass said. “Tell Chief Ellis I’ll be in the car.”
PART SEVEN
1
THE WILLARD HOTEL
WASHINGTON, D.C.
JULY 2, 1942
Charity Hoche, Sarah’s friend from Bryn Mawr, had arrived at half past five the day before. She was a tall, sharp-featured blonde. And she was so very Main Line that Sarah and Ann Chambers had joked behind her back that there was no way to tell whether Katharine Hepburn had lurked in the shrubbery at Bryn Mawr to study Charity before she made The Philadelphia Story, or whether Charity had gone to the movie over and over so that she could faithfully mimic the actress’s mannerisms and nasal speech.
Despite the heat, Charity had swept into the suite with an ankle-length mink coat over her shoulders. Under this she wore the college-girl uniform of sweater and pleated plaid skirt. She had large breasts, which Sarah and Ann called behind her back the Hoche Dairy and which the sweater did little to conceal.
“Daahling!” she cried. “I can’t wait to see it.”
“You can’t wait to see what?” Sarah asked, although she knew perfectly well that Charity meant the baby.
“Your child, Little Mother! What else?”
Charity searched through