you sock it to Dick anyway,” Ann said, “I’ll help him in any way I can. I’ve heard whispers about people being locked up for psychiatric examination. If you do something like that to Canidy, you can count on it getting in the papers. Maybe my father’s papers wouldn’t print it, but somebody will.”
She walked out of the room. Donovan had a thought from left field: What the hell is wrong with Canidy? That young woman is really bright. She’s put together like the proverbial brick outhouse, and she’s really special to boot.
“Was that an example of the female hell hath no fury like?” C. Holdsworth Martin, Jr., asked.
“Well, she asked the question, didn’t she?” Donovan replied. “What happens now?”
“I think we should talk to Canidy,” Martin said, “before we decide.”
“Yeah,” Donovan said. He walked over and opened the door, then raised his voice and called, “Will somebody send Canidy in here, please?”
Canidy came in wearing khaki trousers and a T-shirt.
“We seem to have a problem on our hands, don’t we, Dick?” Donovan began.
“Not as much as Baker seems to think we have,” Canidy said. “But a problem.”
“You don’t seem overly concerned about it,” Donovan said sharply.
“What damage has been done has been done,” Canidy said. “And I don’t think you called me in here to ask for my remedy for it.”
“Canidy,” Donovan said, “at this moment, you’re on a greased skid at the bottom of which is a long stay in St. Elizabeth’s.”
“I thought that was probably what was going to happen,” Canidy said. “I thank you, Colonel, for telling me yourself. Denying Baker that satisfaction, I mean.”
He started to get up. “That’s it, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Sit down, Canidy,” Donovan said.
Canidy shrugged and lowered himself back into the chair.
“Have you wondered why Baker is so upset?”
“Baker is a professional,” Canidy said. “He holds me in the contempt he holds all amateurs. I’m not serious enough.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t considered that he might know something you don’t.”
“Oh, I’ve considered that, Colonel.”
“Since the odds are about ninety to ten that you’re going to St. Elizabeth’s,” Donovan said, “I’m going to tell you a little more than you know. I’ll be interested in your reaction.”
“And if my reaction is not what you want, it’s St. Elizabeth’s for sure?”
“Yes,” Donovan said.
Canidy saw in Martin’s eyes that the direction this encounter was taking had come as a surprise to him.
“The Germans have begun test-flying a jet-powered fighter aircraft, the Messerschmitt ME-262,” Donovan said. “If the tests are successful, and if they can get the airplane into production in sufficient numbers, the ME-262 will be capable of inflicting tremendous losses on the bombers of the Eighth Air Force. This means that the current strategy calling for the destruction of German industry by aerial bombardment will have to be called off. At the moment, there is no satisfactory substitute available.”
“Jesus!” Canidy said.
“The only way out of this problem that seems to make any sense,” Donovan went on, “is to interrupt production of the engines. But that, in turn, depends on our getting our hands on either an engine or else its specifications. That will allow our technical people to determine how production can be delayed. Special metals, special smelting techniques, special machining, special machines to make those machines . . . Are you following me?”
“Yes, Sir,” Canidy said.
“The Fokker Company has sublet the development and production contracts for the engine to FEG—that is, to Fulmar Elektrische Gesellschaft.”
“And you think Eric can help?”
“We hope so.”
“Then how?”
“He can help us recruit a man who we hope can do something useful in this regard. Our man in Morocco, Murphy. . . . You met him, I think?”
“On my way out,” Canidy confirmed.
“He has established a rather interesting contact with a man named Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz.”
“He heads the Franco-German Armistice Commission,” Canidy said. “He was doing his damnedest—he and an SS officer named Müller—to get Fulmar back to Germany.”
“Well, for several reasons, Murphy believes he can be very valuable to us. Fulmar is the key to his cooperation. That’s why we brought Fulmar out of Morocco. It has little or nothing to do with Operation Torch.”
“How is this tied in with the African flight?”
“It’s not,” Donovan said after a moment’s hesitation.
It was obvious that Canidy did not believe him.
“And this breach of security has fucked this up?”
“If it gets out, it will,” Donovan said.
“Then, and for the first time, I am truly sorry,” Canidy said. “Shit! Why didn’t somebody tell me this?”