you have been safely delivered here.”
Ridgway made a gesture with his hand signifying he could leave.
“You have my number, Colonel, in case you need anything at all. And the car will be here from 0800,” Huff added, to Ridgway’s aide.
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Colonel James said.
Huff left.
“Sid’s been Douglas’s chief dog-robber forever,” Pickering said. “No offense, Colonel.”
“None taken, sir,” James said, smiling. “I’m familiar with the term.”
“Gentlemen . . .” Charley Rogers said, and they looked at him. He was at a sideboard loaded with whiskey bottles.
“Scotch for me, please,” Harriman said.
“I’m a bourbon drinker,” Ridgway said.
“Colonel?” Rogers asked James, who looked at Ridgway for guidance.
“Jack usually drinks scotch,” Ridgway said.
“Scotch it is,” Rogers said.
“You were on the first plane, were you, Captain?” Ridgway asked Hart.
“Yes, sir.”
“That must have been interesting,” Ridgway said.
“The streets from the airport were lined with Japanese— soldiers, sailors, and civilians standing side by side. They bowed as the car drove us here,” Hart said. “Very interesting. ”
“I presume both you and Master Sergeant Rogers have all the security clearances required?” Ridgway asked.
“Top Secret/White House,” Howe answered for him. “And we have our own communications with the White House.”
“You understand, I had to ask,” Ridgway said. “Well, that means we can get right down to business, doesn’t it?”
“Give me a moment alone with General Pickering first, please,” Harriman said.
“Certainly,” Ridgway said.
“We can use my bedroom,” Pickering said, and pointed to that door.
Harriman opened the door and went through it, and Pickering followed him.
“I saw Patricia in the Foster Lafayette literally on my way to the airport,” Harriman said. “She asked me to give you her love—and this.”
He handed a small jewelry box to Pickering, who opened it.
The box had been designed for a ring. In it, stuck into the small slot designed to hold a ring, was a small silver object on a thin silver chain. There was also a sheet of jeweler’s tissue.
“My God, I thought this thing was long lost,” Pickering said, taking the object in his hands. “It’s an Episcopal serviceman’s cross. Patricia gave it to me when I went off to World War Two.”
“There’s two more in the tissue,” Harriman said. “I am under orders to tell you they are to be delivered to your son and a Captain McCoy.”
“That may prove a little difficult,” Pickering said.
“Excuse me?”
“Captain McCoy is now somewhere behind enemy lines,” McCoy said. “And my son—our son—was shot down just after noon August second.”
“Good God! My dear fellow, I didn’t know!”
“There is some hope, some faint hope, that he is still alive. He went down behind the enemy’s lines near Taegu. Another Marine flew over the site shortly afterward, and reported the cockpit was empty.”
“You think he may have been captured?”
Pickering shrugged.
“Capture is better than the alternative,” Pickering said. “The enemy has shot a lot of American prisoners—at least a thousand, almost certainly more—out of hand.”
“If he is a prisoner . . . will that compromise you, Pickering? ”
Pickering didn’t reply.
“Forgive me, I should not have asked that.”
“No, Averell, you shouldn’t have asked that,” Pickering said. “Thank you for bringing this to me.”
He held up the serviceman’s cross, then draped it around his neck. He closed the jewelry box and slipped it into his pocket, and then he walked back into the sitting room.
Harriman followed him a moment later.
“It has always been my experience when faced with a difficult situation to deal with it as quickly as possible,” Harriman said.
Everyone looked at him curiously.
“General Ridgway,” Harriman said. “General Pickering has just told me his son is missing in action.”
“Oh, God!” Ridgway said. “General, I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you,” Pickering said.
“The President, in my judgment, under the circumstances, will have to be informed,” Harriman said.
“The President knows,” Howe said.
“Indeed?” Harriman asked. “You’re sure of that?”
“I called him myself and told him,” Howe said.
“And his reaction?”
“He asked me how General Pickering was taking it, and I told him, and he said to use my judgment whether or not to express his deep personal regret. I decided that General Pickering didn’t need any more expressions of sympathy.”
“That’s all?” Harriman asked.
“What Harry said to me, Mr. Ambassador,” Howe said, coldly, “was ‘use your judgment, Ralph. If telling him I’m really goddamn sorry will help, tell him. If not, don’t.’ That’s practically verbatim. And that’s all he had to say. Is that clear enough?”
“Yes, of course,” Harriman said. “I meant no offense.”
There was a moment’s awkward silence, and then General Ridgway said, “The ambassador and I will be meeting with General MacArthur in the