I was reminded of Olivia’s attitude of a couple of hours ago. I suppose it should have given me a warm and sentimental feeling to know there were still people around for whom sex had a symbolic significance, but I’ll have to admit that it merely made me impatient.
“Jesus,” I said, “a Navy man with a conscience about dames? I thought you fellows had girls in every port.”
He drew himself up. “I’ve had plenty of girls, sir! It’s not that. Only, well, she seems like a nice kid—”
The damn case seemed to be crawling with nice kids. “You think she’s a nice kid but you think she’ll go to bed with you,” I said. “Well, I’ll give you a hint. If you simply can’t bear to lay the young lady under false pretenses, just make like you’re drunk and pass out on the floor. If she’s really a nice kid, and even if she isn’t, she’ll probably just drag you to the couch and leave you to sleep it off. She may even make coffee for you in the morning. Okay?”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“Has she come out with any information of interest about Dr. Mooney?”
“Not much. I haven’t really dared try to pump her yet. After all, I only picked her up... made contact with her at lunch. From what she says, the doctor is kind of an amorous slob and keeps her dodging. The previous girl quit, Dottie says, because she’d worn out her track shoes; that kind of stuff. Mooney tells Dottie about his affairs with other women and hints that she could share the bliss if she wanted. So far, she says, she hasn’t wanted, but it’s hard work. She’s considering getting another job, but he pays well.”
I said, “That corresponds with information received, up to a point. My dope is that she isn’t quite as innocent, Mooney-wise, as you make her sound. But my informant was prejudiced.”
Braithwaite shook his head quickly. “I think Dottie’s telling the truth. She’s... well, she really seems like a swell kid, sir. I’d hate to think I was dragging her into anything...” He stopped.
I looked at him, and thought for some reason of a swell kid I’d dragged into the case, sobbing into a damp pillow. I asked, “What’s your first name, Mr. Braithwaite?”
“Why... why, it’s Jack, sir.”
“Well, Jack,” I said, “some day you may have to fire off those big Navy guns of yours, or drop those big bombs, and some people are going to get hurt who maybe aren’t as guilty as some other people. Maybe there’ll be some who aren’t guilty at all. And do you know, it’ll be just too damn bad, Jack.”
He said stiffly, “Yes, sir.”
“How’d you get roped into this?” I asked.
“I wasn’t roped in,” he protested. “I volunteered, sir, as you told me I could. I called the number you gave me in Washington. They called me back almost immediately. They’re going to put me through some special training— you know more about that than I do, sir—but this thing was breaking fast and they had nobody else available locally. Besides, I’d already been in on it, a little. I knew you by sight.”
“Sure,” I said. “In the Army we used to distinguish between three classes of fools: the plain fools, the damn fools, and the volunteers.” Staring at him coldly, I saw his jaw muscles work a little, but he’d been hazed before. He had discipline. He didn’t talk back. He was a pretty good boy, but I wasn’t about to let him know I thought so. He’d work better under strain. I went on, “The nurse’s name is Darden, isn’t it? Where does she live?”
He brought out the notebook again. I ripped the page out and disposed of it as before, after memorizing the data written on it.
“If she’d seen that,” I said, “she’d have thought it was mighty damn funny your having it written down before she’d ever told you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t really mean to give you a hard time, Jack.”
“No, sir.”
“I wouldn’t expect to fly an airplane without plenty of training, but that’s just about what you’re going to have to do here. And a mistake in this business can be just as fatal to just as many people, or more.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right,” I said. “Give me a minute before you come out.”
I straightened my tie at the mirror and went out, leaving him there. As I emerged from the corner devoted to the rest rooms I saw Dottie Darden standing at the booth talking earnestly to Olivia, whose face looked pale and hostile. The kid was obviously trying to sell her something and she just as obviously wasn’t buying.
“Please,” Dottie was saying as I came up. “I’d like you to understand, Dr. Mariassy. I know you think I’m terrible and I don’t blame you, but after all, he
is
my employer. I
have
to listen to his stories and pretend to laugh. I have to keep him happy.”
“Yes, I’m sure you’re very good at that,” Olivia said. “I’m sure you keep him very happy.”
The nurse winced. “If it makes you feel better to be jealous of me, go right ahead,” she said. “You’ve got lots of company. Half the women in town would like to scratch my eyes out; and the funny thing is, I wouldn’t touch that creep with rubber gloves on. Honest.” She drew a sharp breath. “But you won’t believe that. Nobody’ll believe that. I’m sorry. I just wanted to apologize.” She turned quickly and almost ran me down. I had to catch her to keep her from falling. She looked up at me, startled, looking very soft and young in the dimly lighted lounge, with her ridiculously formal coiffure contrasting oddly with her plain white uniform.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she gasped, freeing herself.
Braithwaite was returning. She went to him quickly, pulled herself together, and answered his puzzled question with a laugh and a shake of the head. I sat down. Olivia was staring grimly at her glass.
I took a drink from mine, standing there untouched, and said, “You were a little tough on the kid, weren’t you?”
“Kid?” she snapped. “They’re all kids to you, aren’t they, Paul? But if she’s really the innocent child she pretends, would she flaunt her pectoral development like that? If it’s really hers, and particularly if it isn’t.”
“Pectoral,” I said. “I’ll have to remember that. When I was a boy, we simply called them boobs. Pectoral development sounds much more refined.”
Olivia looked up. After a moment she laughed. Braithwaite was leaving, taking with him the nurse and his tender conscience. I’d had one once, I remembered—a conscience, I mean—but I’d managed to lose it somewhere. At least I’d done my best to. In this business a conscience buys you nothing but trouble.
“There’s the bridge,” Olivia said. “Are we driving over to the island?”
I looked at the long causeway ahead, then glanced at the rearview mirror. It was quite empty, as far as significant images were concerned.
“There’s no point going out there and getting our shoes full of sand if nobody’s interested,” I said, pulling out where we could see the water. “Of course, Kroch could still be tailing us, but I don’t have quite the right itch between my shoulder blades. I think, now that he’s got you established in Pensacola again, he’s let you go for a little, figuring he can always pick you up at the house or the naval base.”
She shivered slightly. “When he wants me,” she murmured. “When he gets his orders to kill me. It’s like living in a different world, knowing there are men like that.”
“Yeah,” I said. “We affect people adversely, we professionals. Why, some girls won’t even be seen talking to us.”
She said quickly, “I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant.”
“You’re not like Kroch.”
I said, “Cut it out, Doc. How do you know? You’ve never spoken to Kroch except for a moment in your hotel room when he was holding a gun and doing most of the talking. You’ve never been to bed with him. Hell, he might be a perfectly swell guy in bed. How do you know?”
She said stiffly, “That isn’t funny; and you’re being ridiculous, comparing yourself with a thug like that.”
I said, “You’re the one who’s being ridiculous, Doc. You’re trying to make a fine moral distinction between a man you happen to dislike and a man you happen to like—if I may flatter myself—both of whom happen to be engaged in exactly the same type of work.”
She was silent for a little; then she smiled and said, “Well, have it your way. I’m married to a monster without any relieving traits.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I said. I looked out over the water at the low black mass of land at the end of the bridge. “Give me the details. What’s it like out there? I’ve seen it from the air, that’s all.”
She’d have preferred to keep the conversation personal, I saw, but she said, “It’s a narrow barrier island, just a sandspit, running parallel to the coast a mile or so out. To the west, the right as you come off the bridge, it extends only a few miles. There’s an old brick Civil War fort at that end, and some deserted concrete structures that used to house big coast-defense guns—relatively modern, I believe, but the guns have been removed. That end of the island is a state park. The other way, eastwards, to the left as you come off the bridge, there’s a little beach community and then nothing much but road and sand dunes for thirty-some miles. Another bridge over there brings you back to the mainland. The island goes on to the east still farther, I think, but I’ve never been there.”
“You draw a good picture, Doc,” I said. “Very sharp and clear.”
“I ought to,” she said. “It’s part of my job to make things sharp and clear.” After a little, she said, “If we’re through here, I’d like to go home.”
“Sure.”
I started the car and drove slowly back through town. The housing development in which she lived had the clean, phony look of a movie set before the crew has got it convincingly weathered and dusty. I parked in front of her house.
“Paul,” she said as I started to get out.
“Yes?”
“The divorce,” she said. “I hate to be practical, but just how will it be arranged?”
“The legal department will take care of it.” I guess I hadn’t expected her to bring up the subject, although there was no reason why she shouldn’t. “They’re very efficient,” I said. “They’ll discover that we’re absolutely incompatible, or something. Okay?”
“Don’t be angry,” she said. “I just wanted to know.”
“Who’s angry?”
“You sounded annoyed.” She hesitated. “If it will make you feel better, I can tell you that I don’t feel very incompatible.” She glanced at me quickly and looked away. “In fact if... It’s a brazen thing to say, I suppose, but I’m rather tired of pretending to be discreet and modest. If you would care to try to work something out without the legal department, afterward, the lady might be willing.”
I looked at her, and closed the car door I’d just opened.
I started to speak. She shook her head quickly.
“No, don’t say anything and don’t stare at me, please. This isn’t a declaration of undying love, Paul. All I’m saying is that you seem to be a reasonably civilized person in spite of your weird occupation. Maybe you’d like to have a secret home base, a place to rest between assignments, under a name that isn’t yours, a name like Corcoran, say. As for me, well, my one amorous adventure didn’t turn out very well and I have a full time occupation that really interests me very much. Still, I... well, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind having you around the house occasionally. It might be a very practical arrangement for both of us.” She shook her head again as I tried to interrupt. “No, I don’t want you to say anything now. I just wanted to place my attitude on record. Anyway, I think the telephone is ringing.”
I started to speak again, but now I could hear the bell, too, through an open window. I drew a long breath, then got out and followed her up the walk to the door and waited while she found the key to let us in. She went quickly to the phone. I saw her face go pale as she listened. She looked at me, muffling the mouthpiece with her hand.
“It’s a man. I... I think I recognize the voice. But he wants a Mr. Helm, a Mr. Matthew Helm. Is that you?”
I sighed. It had been lots of fun playing house, but you’ve got to grow up some time and face the realities of the big cruel world.
“That’s me,” I said and took the phone from her. “Corcoran here,” I said. “Helm, if you prefer.”
“Good evening, Eric,” Kroch’s voice said in my ear. I knew it was his voice although I’d never heard it. That seemed strange. I felt as if I’d known him for years.
“So you know the code name, too,” I said. “Hurray for you.”
“I’m Kroch,” he said. “Karl Kroch. But you know. The little girl told you.”
“She told me,” I said.
“I have her here,” he said. “Miss Antoinette Vail.”
The house seemed suddenly chilly, perhaps because of the open window. I said “Jesus Christ, has that stupid little chick gone and got herself loused up again? I tell you what you do, Kroch, just tie a good big rock around her neck and throw her off the nearest pier as a favor to me. Okay?” I saw Olivia’s eyes widen, shocked.
“Very good, Eric.” Kroch laughed softly in my ear. “Very good. That is the proper reaction. I am to think Miss Vail means nothing to you,
hein?”
I said, “Hell, I never saw her before the other night. What’s she supposed to mean?”
“If you’re willing to sacrifice her, of course, there is no more to be said. But if you are not... Do you know Santa Rosa Island? Of course you do. You were just looking at it across the water.”
So the itch between my shoulder blades had let me down. I said, “A man stops to look at the water and talk to his wife. Big deal. And what’s with this sacrifice bit? I told you, the kid’s nothing to me. I needed a dame, or thought I did, so I picked her up at the bar. That’s all. And I’ve been at this work too long to stick my neck out for innocent bystanders, Kroch. She’s all yours. If you’re hungry, stick an apple in her mouth and roast her.”
He laughed again. “Ah, but it is nice to deal with someone who knows how the game should be played! You make me very happy, Eric. Now, what do you say? It is the logical place to finish this, out there, is it not? Very quiet, very lonely. Turn right as you leave the bridge. You will come to a gatehouse. There is a chain across the road there; the state park is closed at night. Leave your car by the little house and walk down the road. Or crawl through the sand or sneak through the bushes. I will be waiting. I will not be foolish enough to tell you to come unarmed. Bring all the weapons you wish. You will, anyway.”