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Cronley met Henderson’s eyes, but didn’t say anything.
“Oscar also told me that your present assignment was not a bone you were tossed when you were relieved as chief, DCI-Europe, but rather at the direct order of the President, who thought—based on the reports of Colonel Mortimer Cohen—that his close friend Justice Jackson was in jeopardy. The President decided that you were just the guy to protect him.”
Again Cronley didn’t reply.
“Although I am assigned to DCI-Europe, my chain of command up is to my old friend Oscar, not to Wallace. I will, however, report to Wallace that Justice Jackson is completely satisfied with the protection you’re giving him, and aside from bedding Janice Johansen almost publicly, you’re not doing anything wrong. I will also report to El Jefe that you’re up to something with Colonel Cohen and Polkovnik Serov that you don’t want to tell me about. I think my report to El Jefe will promptly result in a SIGABA call from El Jefe somewhat angrily ordering you to tell the both of us what the hell you and Cohen are up to with Ivan Serov.”
And yet again Cronley didn’t reply.
“Your call, Cronley,” Henderson said. “You can either trust me now or wait until El Jefe gets on the SIGABA.”
Jesus H. Christ! What do I do?
General Gehlen has told me time and time again how dangerous trusting your gut feeling is.
And my gut feeling is to trust this guy.
My mother used to tell me, “There is an exception to every rule.”
So if I break Gehlen’s rule, is Henderson promptly going to Wallace?
“Colonel, you won’t believe what your loose cannon has been up to.”
I could, I guess, get on the SIGABA to El Jefe and tell him.
Oh, fuck it!
“Major, have you heard about Castle Wewelsburg? What Himmler and company were up to there?”
Henderson shook his head, then asked, “Are you going to tell me?”
“Not here. Let’s adjourn to the Duchess Suite.”
“Fine. Shall we take the Jack Daniel’s with us?”
“Why not?”
[SIX]
The Duchess Suite
Farber Palast
Stein, near Nuremberg
American Zone of Occupation, Germany
2005 22 February 1946
Cronley walked directly to what had been the wardrobe of the suite and looked inside.
“Why do I think you were not checking to see if your dry cleaning has been delivered?” Henderson asked.
“I was checking to see if the SIGABA has been moved to the Mansion.”
“An apt description of your headquarters. I was over there. Just long enough for your people to make me feel unwelcome.”
“Sorry.”
