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He remembered being with Derwin at the officers’ club bar in Camp Holabird when the Squirt came in.
He remembered why his fellow spooks in training had called Derwin “Dick Tracy,” and that it had not been rooted in admiration.
What the hell does he want from me?
He had dressed to meet him. That is, in triangled pinks and greens, not in his captain’s tunic, as that would have established the captain/major relationship between them.
While he was putting on the triangled pinks and greens, he had thought about Ludwig Mannberg’s elegant wardrobe, now shared with Max Ostrowski. He thought it would be a good idea to get some civvies for himself. There were a lot of bona fide U.S. civilians around wearing civvies, so why not?
The problem there was, where could he get some? He had two Brooks Brothers suits in Midland—two because his mother said he could be counted upon to spill soup on the first one he put on—and he didn’t think they would fit anyway.
And, of course, he was concerned, deeply concerned, about what was going to happen when he faced Sergeant Claudette Colbert after their most-of-the-night romp in the sheets, which was probably the dumbest thing he’d done since he started screwing Rachel Schumann. Or more accurately, had allowed Rachel Schumann to play him for the three-star naïve fool he could not deny being.
There were only two good things he could think of concerning his new relationship with Sergeant Colbert. He was willing to bet she wasn’t an NKGB agent, and she sure knew how to romp.
And he wondered about not if, but how soon Fat Freddy would pick up on what was going on between him and good ol’ Sergeant Colbert.
He pushed open the door and entered the room.
Fat Freddy was behind his desk and Dette behind hers, hammering furiously at her typewriter. The door to Major Harold Wallace’s office was open. He was chatting with Major Thomas G. Derwin, who sat in front of his desk with a briefcase on his lap. Both looked out at him.
“Good morning, sir,” Freddy said. “Major Derwin is here to see you. He’s in with Major Wallace.”
“Sir,” Dette said, “General Gehlen said that he’d like to see you as soon as it’s convenient.”
When Cronley looked at Colbert, she met his eyes. She smiled warmly, but it was just that, nothing more or less.
“Did he say where he was?”
“At the compound, sir.”
“Please call him back and tell him I’ll come out there as soon as Major Derwin and I have finished talking about whatever he wants to talk about.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure a car is available.”
Cronley walked to Wallace’s office door.
“Good morning, gentlemen.”
“Major Derwin has been waiting to see you, Jim,” Wallace said.
“Captain Cronley,” Derwin said.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Major,” Cronley said. “What’s on your mind?”
“It would be better, I think, if we discussed that privately.”
What the hell does he want?
“Sounds ominous. Did one of Tiny’s Troopers complain I’ve been mean t
o him?”
Derwin didn’t reply.
“Why don’t we go in my office?” Cronley asked.
Derwin got to his feet and walked to the door. As they walked across the outer office, Dette asked, “Can I get you and the major coffee, sir?”
