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Welles did not much like to be challenged. He said: "Why don't you tell me, Senator?"
"I don't know. But I think we should have an answer before we take the action. Desperate men are dangerous. And I do know that the United States is not ready to go to war against Japan. Our navy isn't ready and our air force isn't ready."
Greg saw his chance to speak and took it. "Mr. Under-Secretary, sir, it may help you to know that public opinion favors war with Japan, rather than appeasement, by a factor of two to one."
"Good point, Greg, thank you. Americans don't want to let Japan get away with murder."
"They don't really want war, either," said Gus. "No matter what the poll says."
Welles closed the folder on his desk. "Well, Senator, we agree about the League of Nations and disagree about Japan."
Gus stood up. "And in both cases the decision will be made by the president."
"Good of you to come in to see me."
The meeting broke up.
Greg left on a high. He had been invited into the briefing, he had learned startling news, and he had made a comment that Welles had thanked him for. It was a great start to the day.
He slipped out of the building and headed for Aroma Coffee.
He had never hired a private detective before. It felt vaguely illegal. But Cranmer was a respectable citizen. And there was nothing criminal about trying to get in contact with an old girlfriend.
At Aroma Coffee there were two girls who looked like secretaries
taking a break, an older couple out shopping, and Cranmer, a broad man in a rumpled seersucker suit, dragging on a cigarette. Greg slid into the booth and asked the waitress for coffee.
"I'm trying to reconnect with Jacky Jakes," he said to Cranmer.
"The black girl?"
She had been a girl, back then, Greg thought nostalgically; sweet sixteen, though she was pretending to be older. "It's six years ago," he said to Cranmer. "She's not a girl anymore."
"It was your father who hired her for that little drama, not me."
"I don't want to ask him. But you can find her, right?"
"I expect so." Cranmer took out a little notebook and a pencil. "I guess Jacky Jakes was an assumed name?"
"Mabel Jakes is her real name."
"Actress, right?"
"Would-be. I don't know that she made it." She had had good looks and charm in abundance, but there were not many parts for black actors.
"Obviously she's not in the phone book, or you wouldn't need me."
"Could be unlisted, but more likely she can't afford a phone."
"Have you seen her since 1935?"
"Twice. First time two years ago, not far from here, on E Street. Second time, two weeks ago, two blocks away."
"Well, she sure as hell doesn't live in this swanky neighborhood, so she must work nearby. You have a photo?"
"No."
"I remember her vaguely. Pretty girl, dark skin, big smile."
