knowledge of our interest.”
“But if the backup aircraft were required,” Baker argued, “we would have to presume that secrecy would be compromised anyway. For that reason I’d take my chances on only one plane.”
“But we absolutely have to have the uraninite,” C. Holdsworth Martin, Jr., said. “Even at the price of letting the Germans know we’re working on an atomic bomb. For the long term, getting that ore is of greater importance than Torch.”
Donovan snorted his agreement. Then, realizing that nothing more was going to come from Baker but repetition of the arguments he’d already made, Donovan cut him off.
“I want to talk to Ann Chambers,” Donovan said. “Would you send her in, please, Eldon?”
As soon as he was out the door, C. Holdsworth Martin, Jr., said, “Bill, for God’s sake, you’re not actually thinking of locking the Chambers girl up, are you?”
“Baker thinks that may be necessary,” Donovan said.
“Brandon Chambers,” C. Holdsworth Martin, Jr., said, “has so far been willing and eager to cooperate with us. You lock his daughter up, and that will change. You can’t tell Brandon Chambers that his daughter is a security risk. I’m sure you’re aware, further, that Richard Hoche, Charity’s father, is a very good constitutional lawyer. You lock those girls up, and you can count on Roosevelt’s questionable interpretation of habeas corpus being brought before the Supreme Court. And Chambers would keep the story on page one of all his newspapers until they heard it.”
“We have a mess, don’t we, Holdsworth?” Donovan said.
“I repeat that I think much ado is being made about nothing,” Martin said.
“And I repeat, we have a mess, don’t we, Holdsworth?”
There was a knock at the door, and a female voice called, “Colonel Donovan?”
“Come in, Ann,” Donovan said.
She was wearing a thin pale yellow blouse and a light blue pleated skirt. She looked as sweet and innocent as a college girl—until you looked at her eyes. She was considerably tougher than she looked at first glance, and she was clearly wary but not afraid.
“How’s your family, Ann?” Donovan asked.
“Cousin Edwin’s a little green around the gills, Colonel,” Ann said. “But the rest of us are just fine.”
Donovan smiled. “Commander Bitter may be a little green around the gills, as you put it, Ann,” he said, “because he may have a greater understanding of what’s going on right now than you do.”
“That could well be,” Ann said.
“What do you think is going on around here?”
“I’ll take the Fifth on that one, Colonel Donovan,” she said.
“Certainly you’re curious?”
“Sure,” she said.
“You sense you might have a hell of a story, in other words?” Donovan said.
“Is that what you’re worried about?” she asked.
“A good deal of damage would be done if there is whispering about what might be going on around here,” Donovan said. “If studied guesses were to appear in print . . . We just can’t afford that, Ann.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, so far as I’m concerned,” she said. “I have no intention of writing a word about it.”
“Well, I’m certainly relieved to hear that,” Donovan said. “But I’ve got to pursue that a little further. I hope you won’t take offense.”
“Try me,” she said.
“How can I be sure that your patriotism won’t wear thin after you’ve had a chance to think it over?”
“This has nothing to do with my patriotism,” she said.
“Then what?” he asked, surprised.
“Dick Canidy is obviously in deep trouble over us in the first place,” Ann said. “I wouldn’t do anything to add to his troubles, and I think this is the time to tell you that he had nothing at all to do with our coming. I was the one who figured out where he was and talked the others into driving up.”
“Your loyalty to your friend is commendable,” C. Holdsworth Martin, Jr., said.
“This has nothing to do with loyalty to a friend,” Ann said. “I’m in love with Dick Canidy. I can’t tell you how badly I feel about getting him in trouble.”
“I didn’t know,” Donovan said, “that you were that close to Canidy.”
“Neither does he, Colonel,” Ann said. “But I hope, sooner or later, to change that.”
“Mon Dieu!” C. Holdsworth Martin, Jr., said.
“It wasn’t easy for me to tell you that,” Ann said. “But under the circumstances, I thought it was necessary.”
“I’m glad you told us, Ann,” Donovan said. “And it won’t go any further.”
“Thank you,” she said. “What happens now?”
“That’s what Mr. Martin and I are going to decide just about as soon as you leave,” Donovan said.
“If