causes to be issued’—I’m not asking you to do something I’m not doing myself.”
“We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we? Too many times.”
“And every time you’ve come through for me,” Hanrahan said.
“Fuck you, Red. I’m thinking of the next of kin.”
“Me, too, Doc. This is my fault. I should have known Zabrewski and the Tin Man would have gone to the funeral home without asking me first.”
“That was the Tin Man? I’ve heard about him.”
“Withers was on his A team in Vietnam.”
“If they hadn’t gone to the funeral director, I would have gotten another three-in-the-morning phone call, saying you’re at Pope with a little problem, right?”
Hanrahan nodded. “Probably, certainly.”
“I’m afraid that funeral director is going to smell a rat now.”
“Zabrewski said he told him nothing except that the death took place outside the U.S.”
“And if he makes a stink?”
“Then we’re fucked.”
“Same drill as last time? Understood?”
“Understood,” Hanrahan said.
“If you can get the body off the airplane and off Pope without the Air Force knowing and into the hospital, I will do the autopsy. . . . Jesus, you said the head is severed?”
Hanrahan nodded.
“Well, that’s the cause of death, then?”
“I’m hoping he was dead, shot, first,” Hanrahan said.
“. . . and sign the death certificate, and the no-communicable-diseases certificate. . . .”
“Which I thereupon stamp Top Secret, and give the funeral home a copy with the place of death et cetera, blacked out.”
“Right. But not my signature, right?”
“I don’t think they’d take it without your signature, and that seal, stamp, whatever, that makes little holes in the paper.”
“What if the mortician wants the documents verified by a Consul General?”
“This happened before. I gave them a signed, stamped certificate saying that the Consular Verification has been accomplished but misplaced. I planned to do that again now.”
“Now there’s willingly and knowingly issues,” Colonel Emmett said.
Hanrahan shrugged.
“Between you and me, Red, what this fellow was doing, was it important? Is it worth all this?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“Don’t tell those two anymore than they have to know,” Colonel Emmett said.
“They’ll have to handle getting the body off the airplane. . . . ”
“Anymore than. . . . what’s that you’re always saying? . . . they have the need to know.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Hanrahan said.
[ SIX ]
Apartment 10-C, The Immoquateur
Stanleyville, Oriental Province
Republic of the Congo
1930 8 April 1965
First Lieutenant Geoffrey Craig put his arms around his wife and held her tightly against him. He was surprised at the depth of his emotion; he could not, literally, talk and he was aware that his chest was heaving.
Finally, he found his voice.
“You’re out of your goddamned mind,” he said.
“I love you, too,” Ursula said.
“Jesus Christ, Liebling, you know what happened here!”
“I was in the hand of God then, and I am in the hand of God now. And with my husband.”
Without taking his arms off her, he pulled his head back so that he could look at her face. That struck him dumb again.
After a moment he asked, “How the hell did you get on the airplane? What the hell was Portet thinking of?”
“I asked him if he would bring us, or whether I would have to get here myself. He knew I would come either way. Bringing me would be easier on Jiffy. And I could bring all the things I need for Jiffy on the plane.”
“Jesus, Liebling, you can’t stay here!” he said, and before she had a chance to respond, asked, “Does Felter know?”
Ursula nodded.
“He knew he couldn’t stop me.”
“I just don’t understand your reasoning,” Geoff said. There was a suggestion of anger in his voice.
“Marjorie is here,” Ursula said.
“Marjorie’s out of her goddamned mind, too,” he said.
“Marjorie is with her husband,” Ursula said. “And now I’m with my husband, and Jiffy is with his poppa.”
“What the hell did my mother say?”
“She was a little hysterical,” Ursula said matter-of-factly. “Then Hanni convinced her we would be safe in Léopoldville.”
“And you’re going to Léopoldville, just as soon as I can get you there!”
“You smell from under the arms,” she said.
“What?”
“You need a shower.”
“I spent all goddamn day in an airplane,” he said. “Of course I need a shower.”
“Well?”
“How’s Jiffy?”
“Taking a nap. Mary Magdalene’s with him.”
“You brought her back, too?”
Ursula nodded.
“Maybe, by the time you have your shower, he’ll be awake.”
He looked at her.
“Just as soon as I can get you out of here, you’re going to Léopoldville.”
“You really smell,” she said.
“So you keep telling me,” he said.
She pointed toward the bathroom.
He shook his head, finally took his arms off her, and went into the bathroom and