Capt. Dancy did not reply. White-faced, obviously hurt and angry, she marched to his desk, laid a top secret cover sheet on it, and marched back out of the office.
FROM STATION VII
TO OSS LONDON EYES ONLY BRUCE AND STEVENS
EX LAX AND TIN CAN ONE ALIVE AND WELL STATION VII STOP
GOONEYBIRDING STATION VIII STOP WILL REQUIRE IMMEDIATE AIR
TRANSPORTATION STATION VIII DASH LONDON SIX HUNGARIAN
CRIMINALS AND REMAINS LT CMDR JOHN DOLAN STOP
CAMIDY
It took Donovan a moment before he trusted his voice.
“I think, Joe,” he said finally, handing him the message, “that you had better hold off on writing Lieutenant Darmstadter’s family until we can get this sorted out.”
As Kennedy read the message, Donovan added, “Let Chief Ellis see it when you’re finished.”
“”Hungarian criminals’?” Kennedy asked.
“Is that some kind of a code?”
“Not as far as I know,” Donovan said.
“I wonder what happened to Dolan,” Ellis said.
“You were friends, Ellis?” Donovan asked.
“Not really friends,” Ellis said.
“Yeah, well, maybe. A couple of old sailors. I liked him.”
The door opened again.
“Yes, Sir?” Capt. Helene Dancy asked.
“First, Helene, I’m sorry I jumped on you,” Donovan said.
“That’s perfectly all right, Sir,” she said.
She’s still mad.
“I think you had better message Wilkins, over my signature, and tell him to give Canidy whatever he wants when he gets there. You don’t know what “Hungarian criminals’ means, do you?”
“No, Sir. I presumably do not have the Need-to-Know.”
“Neither do I, apparently, Helene,” Donovan said. He smiled at her, and finally she cracked and smiled back.
“In that case, Sir,” she said.
“I think we have to presume that Major Canidy, for reasons he will certainly explain to us, is going to have six Hungarian criminals with him.”
Donovan chuckled.
“Will that be all, Colonel?”
“Lieutenant Kennedy has Commander Dolan’s personal effects,” Donovan said.
“Will you see if you can come up with a next of kin name and address?”
“I’ve already inquired. Nothing yet. I’ll keep trying. Anything else?”
“You might tell Ann Chambers that Canidy is on his way home. If you think she’d be interested.”
[FOUR]
Chief Ellis was tired, unshaven, and mussed. It had been almost forty hours before the ATE C-54 from London had touched down at Anacostia. But he had ignored Colonel Donovan’s orders to “go home and get some sleep, there’s nothing that won’t wait until tomorrow.”
There was always something that wouldn’t wait.
“You look like shit, Ellis,” Staley greeted him.
“I feel like shit,” Ellis said.
“How come you aren’t all dressed up in new chief’s blues?”
“Captain Douglass said he thought it would be nice if the Colonel made it official,” Staley said.
“Yeah, hell, why not?” Ellis said.
“But you done it, Ellis,” Staley said.
“Thank you.”
“We old China sailors got to stick together,” Ellis said.
“And you’re at the age where you look silly in bell bottoms
He tossed his overcoat on a chair, pushed his cap back on his head, sat down at the desk, and slid the stack of classified documents in front of him.
“Anything interesting in here?”
“Yachtsman is alive and well,” Staley said.
“That came operational immediately from London yesterday. What’s it mean?”
“It’s damned good news,” Ellis said.
“You don’t have to know why. The Colonel will be happy as hell.”
“Whittaker’s ashore in the Philippines,” Staley said.
“We heard that,” Ellis said.
“And the radio works,” Staley said.
“There’s a whole bunch of messages from Fertig.”
“And anything else?”
“Two things for you,” Staley said uncomfortably.
“I opened the telegram. I figured it might be important. It’s on the bottom.”
Ellis lifted the stack of cover sheets and found the Western Union telegram envelope.
WESTERN UNION TELEGRAM
US GOVT WASHINGTON DC 4 PM FEB 23 CHIEF PETTY OFFICER JOHN R. ELLIS
C/0 THE NATIONAL INSTITUTES OF HEALTH WASHINGTON DC
THE SECRETARY OP THE NAVY REGRETS TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR
FRIEND LIEUT COMMANDER JOHN DO LAM USNR DIED FEBRUARY 21
WHILE ON OVERSEAS SERVICE. FULL DETAILS WILL BE FURNISHED
TO YOU WHEN AVAILABLE. YOU WILL BE SHORTLY CONTACTED BY
MAVY OFFICIALS WITH REGARD TO YOUR SURVIVORS BENEFITS.
FRANK KNOX, JR