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“If you can’t talk, say ‘wrong number’ and hang up.”
“I’ve been waiting and waiting to hear from you.”
“Well, I’ve been busy. Rachel, I don’t have your Leica.”
“I know that, sweetheart. Where are you?”
“In the Park Hotel. You know, by the Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof?”
“What are you doing there?”
“Well, it was too late for me to fly home, so I’m spending the night here. Rachel, we have to talk.”
“What are you doing in Frankfurt?”
“Actually, what I was doing was putting that Russian you’re always asking about on an airplane.”
Now, that wasn’t smart. Why the hell did you tell her that?
What the hell. It doesn’t matter. Orlovsky’s gone.
“You put him on an airplane? What was that all about?”
“If I told you, I would have to kill you.”
“Have you been drinking, Jimmy?”
“What gave you that idea? Rachel, we have to talk.”
“What room are you in?”
He had to look at the telephone to get the room number.
“Four-oh-seven.”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Can’t we just talk on the phone? What’s the colonel going to think when he comes home for supper and you’re gone?”
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” She chuckled. “And don’t start without me, baby.”
Then she hung up.
Cronley thought he might as well have another little taste while he was waiting for her.
[ TWELVE ]
Room 407, Park Hotel
Wiesenhüttenplatz 28-38
Frankfurt am Main
American Zone, Occupied Germany
0905 10 November 1945
The telephone rang, and when Cronley answered it, he was told that his ride was waiting for him.
