Caution shaded the Commoner’s effusive expression. “Yes, indeed it does, Miss Faver. My door is always equally open to the ladies of the press.”
“My readers will be most grateful, Mr. Secretary.”
The Washington Star reporter jumped in quickly. “What’s going to be the key to the foreign policy of this new administration, Mr. Secretary?”
Bryan welcomed this question with a grim expression. “I am in hearty accord with the president’s desire to promote world peace and good will.”
“Nice thought, Mr. Secretary,” the New York Times man sounded off. “And just how are you going about it?”
“I want to see a republic standing erect while empires all around are bowed beneath the weight of their own armaments. A republic whose flag is loved while other flags are feared. I want the United States to be the supreme moral factor in the world’s progress.”
The New York Times reporter shook his head and opened his mouth, intending to point out that Bryan had not yet said how he intended to accomplish fine aims, but, Annaliese Faver, standing next to him, cut him off with another question.
“Mr. Bryan, the previous Republican administrations have succeeded in placing most of the state department’s employees under a merit system. As a consequence, many of the staff have been here for a great number of years. Now, you Democrats are back in power after sixteen years.”
“Miss Faver, do you have a question?”
“Yes sir. Do you intend to make many personnel replacements in this department?”
Bryan stared at his nemesis from the National Convention and sighed audibly. Some of the reporters laughed. “I am not yet prepared to discuss tenure in office, Miss Faver. This is the second day of this administration. I have not had the time to learn from the President what general policy will be impressed on the various departments with regard to personnel. I must point out, however, that my tenure of office is only four years and I see no reason why theirs should be any longer.”
She could not resist a quick glance toward the group of career department personnel listening to the press interview. With satisfaction she noted the shock upon their faces. Ah, I have my lead for my story on this swearing in. Unless I am sadly mistaken, WJB has just triggered a great big juicy controversy on his very first day in office.
19
AT THE SAME MOMENT BRYAN was holding his press conference, an angry Count von Bernstorff was pacing back and forth in his office at the German Embassy on Massachusetts Avenue, waving a yellow wireless section memorandum in the faces of the Naval Attache and his assistant. Karl Boy-Ed and Paul Dohrman sat white faced before his tirade.
“I will not have it, that’s all. I simply will not tolerate this insubordination. It’s not the first time you know.” He paused in mid stride to glare at Captain Boy-Ed, his voice dropping to just above a whisper, translating anger even more effectively than his shouting.
“Karl, I hold you responsible. I don’t know about your other posts—but, in this embassy, there will be no coded dispatches coming directly to either you or the military attaché, unless a decoded minute of it comes first to my desk.”
Boy-Ed shrugged. “Surely, your Excellency doesn’t intend to look at all the message traffic we receive from Imperial Naval Headquarters, most of which are just technical in nature strictly pertaining to matters of the service.”
“That will be the rule in this embassy so long as I am in charge here. If, as you say, they pertain to strictly technical matters, they will be expeditiously forwarded to you. I need not remind you, Captain, what happened to your predecessor. I will insist on knowing the general content of all coded wireless messages coming in here.”
It was unspoken but both the Ambassador and the Naval Attache knew the real reason for this. Alfred von Tirpitz, Grand Admiral of the Imperial German Navy, who had an unrelenting hatred for von Bernstorff and the Ambassador dared not underestimate his foe’s persistence in trying to unseat him from the diplomatic service.
“Now that I have made my position once again clear to you both, just what was this dispatch from the Grand Admiral all about?”
Boy-Ed spread his hands and offered a placating smile. “It was only a small administrative matter, your Excellency. I’m sure there is nothing of interest—just routine, certainly nothing worth your time.”
The Ambassador’s face darkened again. “Karl, I shall not warn you again. Please get me a decoded copy of this dispatch? I want to see it right now.”
Captain Boy-Ed nodded in resignation and snapped his fingers at Paul Dohrman, who immediately passed over to the Naval Attache the small portfolio that he had been holding on his lap. Boy-Ed pulled out a sheet of white paper on which there was a date-time entry and one neatly typed paragraph.
“I surmised what this meeting would be about when you summoned us,” Boy-Ed said as he handed the paper over to the Ambassador, who was staring at him in disbelief.
“If you guessed why I sent for you, why have you been sitting there holding it all this time?” His eyes quickly scanned the typewritten message, then he looked up puzzled. “What does this mean? ‘Congratulations, The plans will be most valuable when they arrive. Fine work.’ What plans is he talking about?”
Boy-Ed started to reply but Paul Dohrman , ignoring the glare from his immediate superior, said, “The new American dreadnought, sir, the Pennsylvania. We managed to obtain plans for its fire control system and deck design. We sent them off in last night’s dispatch bag to Imperial Headquarters.”
“Just how did you manage to obtain copies of those plans? I assume the Navy Department wasn’t exactly passing them out like party favors.”
Boy-Ed broke in rudely before Paul could explain. “There are some matters of vital security to the Fatherland—of a military nature—which it is best that your Excellency should not know about. With all due respect, sir, I merely repeat that the plans for the Pennsylvania came into our hands and I would be grossly derelict in my duty not to send them off to Imperial Naval Headquarters.”
The Ambassador, clearly disturbed, turned and walked around behind his desk and sat down heavily. Of course, he knew Karl was right. That was the prime mission of a naval or military attaché, even though he loathed such activities. Ever since taking over this embassy, he had been anxious that nothing happened to damage the good relations between Germany and the United States, such as having one of his military attaches caught in the act of spying. Why couldn’t that idiot von Tirpitz see that the friendship of this country was infinitely more valuable to the Fatherland in the event of a major European war (and one was surely coming) than stolen plans of a single battleship. It didn’t take many brains to know that Germany would need good powerful friends such as the United States. All he could say, however, to the two men watching curiously for his reaction was, “Karl, for heaven’s sake, in this type of thing, be carefully discreet. Again I recall the image of your predecessor. I sincerely hope there won’t be much of this in the future.”
Boy-Ed stood up suddenly and motioned for his assistant to do the same. “Please don’t disturb yourself about this, your Excellency. We know what we are doing. I can assure you that the watchword is always discretion.” “Hmm. I still want a decode of all incoming wireless, Karl.”
“It shall be done, sir.”
Outside of the Ambassador’s office, Karl Boy-Ed, smiling cynically, murmured, “Oh yes, your Excellency. It shall be done except for certain messages.”
Paul Dohrman looked at him in disbelief. “But surely, after what you just promised, you don’t intend—”
Karl Boy-Ed whirled angrily toward him. “Lieutenant, you will keep your mouth shut. This is a Navy matter and don’t forget you are an officer in that navy.”
“But Captain—”
“And another thing, Lieutenant, when we are meeting with the Ambassador, it is not your p
lace to volunteer anything, unless you are asked a direct question by von Bernstorff. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fine. Just remember, I can have you shipped out of this nice job right back to the Unterseedienst (submarines) any damn time I want.”
“Yes ,sir.”
“Good,” Boy-Ed said. He reached inside his jacket and withdrew a half-filled pack of Herbert Tarringtons, cork tip, cigarettes and offered one to Paul.
Paul started to reach for one, stopped and looked at Boy-Ed suspiciously. “Not your brand, is it, sir?”
Boy-Ed, amused, replied, “I didn’t have time to buy a pack last night, so when I left my young woman friend’s place early this morning, I took one of hers.”
20
MOLLY HAD TO CIRCLE THE New Willard three times in her new Baker Electric to find a parking slot between 13th and 14th on F Street. Seth had been silent during the drive from the Langdon home, responding with few words to her lighthearted attempts to engage him in small talk. As a result, by the time they had entered the hotel, she had also become withdrawn.
The brightly lit lobby of the New Willard was crowded with small groups of elegantly dressed men and women, some heading for the dining room, others leaving for parties or dining elsewhere.
A red uniformed bell hop informed Seth and Molly that the Bryan suite was on the second floor.
“Well, let’s get this over with. Do you want to walk up or take the elevator?”
“Seth, what have I done to make you angry with me?”
He was surprised. “Good heavens, Molly. What gave you that ridiculous idea?” To his consternation he saw that her eyes were moist—almost on the verge of tears.
“You barely said anything to me all the way down here and you were so brusque just now.”
“I’m sorry. I reckon I had some things on my mind. That was rude of me. I really don’t need to be going to any party tonight.”
“And, deep inside, you were kind of blaming me for insisting, is that it?” Two tears actually appeared.
Maybe she was partly right. Somehow, in the last two days, she had assumed an intimacy between them that exceeded mere friendship. It disturbed him. Not that he wasn’t fond of her, but to consider anything more, with their age difference, seemed pure folly. She was so young, pretty and—what was the word Annaliese had used—nubile? Looking at her right now, he found his agreement with Annaliese to be unsettling. That aside, it was clear that he had apparently hurt her and it made him feel guilty. He had to do something to mend her feelings.
“Molly, I wouldn’t for the world hurt you. You are most dear to me. I’m not, nor have I ever been angry with you. I apologize for giving you that impression.” To her pleased astonishment, he kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Now, let’s go to the party?”
“OK,” she said in a small voice.
He pulled out a clean handkerchief and dabbed the tears that had run down her cheeks.
“Oh,” she said. “I must look a mess.”
“Nonsense, you look the same beautiful girl I came in with.”
“Do you like the gown I’m wearing?” she said holding her coat wide apart.
So that was part of it! He had failed to remark his appreciation when she had come down the stairs back at the house. He dutifully and carefully inspected it now. It was a shimmering green material that matched her eyes and clung enticingly to the contours of her slim body. It was a fabulous dress on a fabulous figure.
He said, “I am going to tell you the truth, can you take it?” She nodded apprehensively. “It is absolutely lovely andpowerful enough to stir up lots of emotion in every young fellow in this town.”
“I’m not interested in stirring up the emotions of young fellows in this town. Just one handsome ex Texan will do.”
Oh no! Have I just made things worse? He smiled disarmingly, “I reckon we’d better take the elevator, don’t you?”
The Presidential Suite occupied by the Bryans was spacious but barely ‘adequate to accommodate the fifty or so guests milling about with drinks and tiny chicken salad sandwiches. The noise level was intense. Seth had to lean down close to Molly’s ear to ask if she would like some refreshment.
“Something to drink, please,” she smiled gratefully..
He threaded through groups of people whom he did not know until he arrived at the long white draped buffet table where a person he did know was filling a plate with small sandwiches.
“Are you finding enough food there?” he asked.
Handsome Otho Comfort turned suspiciously, his homely face opening into a delighted grin.
“Wal, I’ll be bored for the simples, if it ain’t Seth Cane. What in the fair name of Texas are you doing in this here Washington D.C.? Just a danged minute until I put down these pitiful one bite sandwiches so I can shake yore hand.” He stuck out his right hand. “Hoo boy, put it there!”
Seth laughed and grabbed that big bear paw.
“Why, I brought Ginny here to stay with her great aunt while she attends school but I will have to go home soon. More to the point, what in blazes are you doing here?”
Seth’s affection for this big, lumbering giant knew no bounds. This was the person who had stood against his powerful father when at age fifteen he had run away to the Comfort Brothers’ ranch. His father had had him whipped by his older brother Zack for allowing a seventeen year old Mexican hand to escape the hanging his father intended. The perceived offence was the stealing of three mangy old horses. Hand and his brothers refused to surrender him to his father who came for him with three of his armed men. It was an act of defiance that eventually caused the Comfort boys to lose their ranch to his father, Warren Cane.
“You ain’t gone to believe it, Pard, but this mother’s child is here at the personal invite of the President of the United States.”
“Wilson?”
“You’d better believe it. Remember, I was his personal bodyguard back during the campaign. Wal, a few weeks ago, here come an impressive looking letter on White House stationery to our ranch. It was from Mr. Joseph Tumulty, the President’s top hand. It said that the President would be tickled pink if I would come up here and share some of the big inauguration doings with him. Don’t that grab you. Course, I did and I was right there at the President’s house yesterday watching that hooraw big parade and those mighty fine fireworks last night.”
“I’m most impressed, Hand.”
“You danged should be.”
“When are you going home? Maybe we can share a train, most of the way.”
Hand looked comically puzzled and he stepped close to Seth and said in what passed for a whisper, “It’s a mighty peculiar thing, Pard. I was fixing to go home tomorrow but then ole Joe Tumulty, you know, the President’s-”
“Yep, I know who he is.”
“Well, anyway, he sent this note over to my digs at the hotel which said I should stick around a couple more days and definitely not leave until I checked with him. What do you make of that?”
Seth shook his head. “No idea, Hand, but it sounds like they may have something lined up for you.”
Hand’s expression was incredulous. “Naw! Do you reckon?”
“I’ve no way of telling, but stick around and find out. Say,
Molly Langdon is here with me and I promised to get her something to drink.”
Hand looked doubtfully at the large cut glass punch bowl on the table. “I hope she likes grape juice, cause there ain’t no real liquor here. Will Bryan’s dead set agin any honest drink for a man.”
“That’s OK, I don’t suppose Molly would mind grape juice.”
They found Molly talking to Alan Keith Kingsley, the Englishman from the British Embassy and were immediately joined by Bessie Mae and Henry Dalworth. Molly let out a sque
al of delight when she saw Hand and kissed him on the cheek to his embarrassed pleasure.
“Here is your drink, Molly,” Seth said, handing her the glass. She nodded thanks and grimaced after taking a big sip. “Sorry,” Seth said, “It is white grape juice, all that Will and Mary are offering.” He turned to warmly greet the Englishman whom he hadn’t seen since the Suffragette parade and then introduced Hand, watching apprehensively as the Texan extended his big paw. To his relief, Alan was able to withstand Hand’s bone crusher handshake without a wince.
Henry Dalworth grabbed Seth’s arm and pulled him to one side. “I just left Bryan over there in the bedroom. He is too tired to talk with you now but he definitely wants to see you tomorrow morning at his office in the State Department.”
“Henry, I told you I am leaving tomorrow morning for home. I won’t be able to see Will.”
The Congressman frowned and put his hand on Seth’s shoulder. “Now, listen son, that’s the Secretary of State in there who wants to see you tomorrow. He is also an important leader of our Party and a long time friend to both of us.”
“I know that, Henry.”
“Then you can’t refuse to find out what he wants. You can catch a later train. This could be a lot more important than your trip back home. Besides, Bessie Mae will be hurt if you can’t attend her special dinner for you and the Champ Clarks. Remember, you agreed to be there.”
Seth groaned. “It’s amazing how many of these functions I seem to have promised to attend. OK, Henry, I’ll see Will tomorrow and break bread with the Speaker. Are you sure the president doesn’t also want to see me tomorrow?”
The Congressman smiled. “So far as I know, your calendar is free from any obligation in that direction.”
“Thank God! Then I’ll change my reservation to the day after tomorrow.”
Molly smoothly steered her Baker Electric into the Lang-don’s carriage house and remarked, “Too bad we didn’t get to greet our host and hostess tonight.”
Call Down The Hawk Page 9
