The Parsifal Pursuit

by Michael McMenamin

  “Have any offers to purchase your share of NBM come to you, recently?”

  “Why yes,” she said, her tone of voice sounding intrigued. “I received an offer the very next day after…” she trailed off. “I––yes, I showed it to Winston just yesterday. I want to take it and be done with it but he says I should talk to you first.”

  Cockran wasn‘t surprised an offer came directly on the heels of something like this. There were vultures everywhere. “But wouldn‘t you still have to convince your trustees to approve the sale?”

  “Yes” Harmony said and smiled. “Will you be my solicitor and help me do that?”

  “No,” Cockran said. “Not unless the offer accurately reflected the value of Sedgewick & South‘s interest in NBM before its largest European subsidiary in Germany was beset by sabotage. Which I doubt it does.”

  “Why?”

  “Because your share of NBM is worth far more if the entire company is operating at full strength, free of the terror and extortion activities it is facing in Germany.”

  Harmony‘s face clouded over and she sunk deeper into her chair. “That sounds like a lot to accomplish.”

  “It is, but it‘s worth doing.”

  Harmony sighed and took a sip of her drink. “Frankly, I‘m not sure it‘s worth it. I never wanted to own a company. I‘m an academic, an artist, and, if I keep working at it, maybe someday a sculptor. I‘m at home in my studio and the grassy courtyards of my campus, not a corporate boardroom.” They were silent a moment. Harmony returned her blue eyes to Cockran. “I‘ve also been offered a finder‘s fee.”

  “How much?”

  “£25,000.”

  Cockran paused and took a sip. “It‘s a bribe. A large bribe but still a bribe.”

  “It‘s £25,000!” she said, “Isn‘t that a lot of money?”

  “Yes but you‘re being short-sighted. With how I plan to help your two German plants, your interest in NBM could earn you half again as much in less than two years.”

  She seemed to consider this for a moment, her eyes still on Cockran. She sipped on her drink again. “What did you have in mind?”

  Cockran explained his plans to visit the American embassy and consulate, calling on Donovan‘s contacts to assist them. After that, he would move on to federal and state authorities in Berlin and Munich where, with the support of U.S. diplomats, pressure would be applied to snap the police and prosecutors out of their passivity. With the German government protecting the NBM plants and working to put the SS thugs in jail, Cockran expected life at the plants to return to normal within six months and profits six months later.

  “What happens if diplomacy doesn‘t work?” Harmony asked. “Aren‘t I still in danger? I was kidnapped once. They could do it again.”

  “I have a friend from America,” Cockran replied. “He‘s in Germany now checking things out. We‘ll make sure no harm comes to you. We‘re both very good at that. Trust me.”

  “I trust you, Mr. Cockran.”

  “Please. Call me Bourke.”

  “Bourke, my boy!” Churchill said as he entered the room, wearing workman‘s clothes and a light smattering of dirt over the kneecaps. “Wonderful to see you again.” They exchanged greetings briefly. “I see you‘ve already met Harmony. Have you discussed any business?”

  “A little.”

  “Good, good. We haven‘t much time. The sun is going down and you must see how large my goldfish have become since you were last here.” He tugged on Bourke‘s arm and turned to Harmony. “You too, my dear. Harmony has seen my goldfish already, but she adores them. Oh! And go find Patrick. He must see the progress I‘ve made on my wall. A new record. Four hundred bricks in two hours!”

  Sunday, 31 May 1931

  COCKRAN’S head ached as he rose the next morning. The rest of the evening had been pleasantly sociable; no further business discussed. The four of them––Bourke, Harmony, Winston, and Patrick––had a quiet supper before Harmony and Patrick retired early. Clemmie, Winston had informed him, was still on holiday in America. Which left him alone with Winston and brandy in his study upstairs. Which also left Cockran with the hangover he was currently nursing. He should have known better than to try matching Churchill drink for drink.

  Churchill wasn‘t exactly a father figure even though he was Cockran‘s senior by 21 years. An older brother, perhaps, or a wise uncle. Which is why, after his third brandy, Cockran had asked Churchill‘s advice about Mattie, her risk-taking and their quarrel. His father‘s protégé had not been comforting. Instead, he took Mattie‘s side. “Live dangerously,” he told Cockran. “That‘s always been my motto. Don‘t let life pass you by. Take things as they come. That‘s what your Mattie does. Good for her. You should too. Dread naught, all will be well.”

  Cockran knew not to start an argument with a man he both respected and loved. But what the hell did Churchill know? He had been both reckless and lucky in his youth. Dodged many a bullet. Easy for him to say, “live dangerously.” But it wasn‘t his wife who had been raped and killed by the IRA. Would he feel as he did had that happened? Not bloody likely.

  After Cockran dressed, he wandered downstairs to the dining room where breakfast was waiting under the soft glow of early morning sunlight.

  Harmony was seated alone at a round table, wearing a powder blue cotton dress. “My, you‘re a late riser,” she said.

  “It‘s only nine o‘clock. Winston and I kept each other up quite late last night.”

  “I talked with your son Patrick earlier this morning. He‘s a charming boy. He was finishing his breakfast just as I sat down. He said he had a battle to fight and charged off up the stairs. But I‘d be delighted if you joined me for breakfast.”

  Cockran did, paying a visit to the sideboard to load up on ham, eggs and a small bowl of porridge. After his hangover had been lifted by food and many cups of tea, they took a walk south through the orchard and into a walled garden built by Churchill‘s bricklaying skills.

  Harmony seemed compelled to talk, so Cockran listened quietly, lending a friendly ear. Her father had died in 1915, but she didn‘t miss him. He never paid her much attention. She was happy when her mother married Sir Archibald because he had been different––kind, interested, generous. She didn‘t care as much for the trust he created which would keep her from her inheritance until she was thirty-five, considering it a trifle overbearing as if she were not capable of fending for herself at the age of twenty seven. “But then, dear Archie always thought of me as his own little girl, no matter how quickly I grew up. I mean I served as a nurses‘ aide during the war when I was barely fifteen, for goodness sakes!”

  She was quiet for awhile as they walked down past Churchill‘s studio and reached the second and smaller of Chartwell‘s two lakes. Beside it was a large circular swimming pool. She squealed and grasped Cockran‘s arm. “Look! The swimming pool! Let‘s take a dip.”

  “I didn‘t bring a bathing suit,” Cockran replied. “Besides, it‘s not that warm.”

  “The pool‘s water is heated. And there are suits in the changing room of the loggia. Mine‘s already there.”

  “You go ahead. I‘ll watch.”

  Harmony emerged a few moments later wearing a long navy blue terrycloth robe. She let it drop in a single motion, revealing a demure white wool maillot, high in the neck, with a wool belt around her slender waist and a buckle in the middle.

  She posed for him and then turned around in a circle.

  “What do you think?‘

  That she was one well-put together young woman was the thought that came immediately to Cockran‘s mind. The thin white wool was filled out by her small body in a sinuous curve from her breasts down to her hips. Harmony walked away from him and stepped into the pool. She alternated between a side stroke and a back stroke and resumed their conversation while Cockran stood on the side of the pool, halfway between the two ends.

  “I received another offer this morning,” she said. “It arrived by courier.”

&n
bsp; Cockran nodded. “I‘ll take a look at it when we get back,” he said.

  “The offer for the company is the same but the finder‘s fee has been doubled.”

  She turned from her side to her back and stroked back.

  “And?” Cockran finally asked.

  “And what? You don‘t think I should accept, do you?”

  “No, I don‘t,” he said.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “It‘s premature. You‘re still not thinking this through,” he said.

  “But I want to accept it,” she said. “You‘re my solicitor. “Aren‘t you supposed to work in my interest?” She returned to the side stroke.

  “I‘m am American which means I‘m your lawyer, not your solicitor, but I am working in your interest,” Cockran said.

  “Then why don‘t you help me get what I want? I hired you.”

  “No,” Cockran said evenly. “Your father hired me because he wanted to stop sabotage at the NBM plants in Germany. That‘s what I aim to do. If you disagree, hire a different lawyer.”

  Harmony stopped swimming and treaded water in the pool, only her head showing. She looked surprised at Cockran‘s blunt talk. Too bad, he thought. If she wanted to sell out, fine. She could find lots of lawyers to do that for her. But Cockran intended to do her late stepfather‘s bidding and restore a sense of order and fair play to NBM‘s plants in Germany.

  Harmony rose out of the pool and it was Cockran‘s turn to be surprised at what happened next. It was at once apparent that the white maillot had turned transparent as she walked toward him, step by revealing step. She might as well have been wearing nothing.

  “Toss me a towel,” Harmony said, as she reached out her arms.

  Embarrassed to have been staring, Cockran turned away and searched for a towel, finally finding it under the blue robe. He turned back toward her and tossed it to her.

  “Here you go. You look cold.”

  She caught the towel deftly in one hand and began to dry her face and neck and hair. “No, the water was fine. I just need to towel down.”

  Harmony seemed unconcerned or unaware of her appearance when she turned her back to him and bent over gracefully from the waist to dry her long legs. As she straightened up, Cockran raised his eyes so that when she turned around, it would not be apparent that he had been staring.

  Harmony stood up and looked at him. “I know you feel an obligation to my stepfather but, after my kidnapping, it‘s not a fight I‘m willing to take on any longer.”

  Cockran quickly picked up her robe and helped her into it. She thanked him and wrapped the towel around her neck as they began to walk up to the house, Harmony holding her dress in one hand and undergarments in the other. Suddenly she stopped, staring back at the small lakes. “I just want to end this nightmare,”

  She stood there as though she were all alone looking for invisible enemies. She had been through so much . A kidnapping. A ransom. Her stepfather‘s sudden murder. No wonder she wanted it all to end. Wordlessly, he put an arm around her shoulder to comfort her. Her arms, held close to her damp body, suddenly reached around to embrace him. She seemed so fragile after all that had happened to her. But he couldn‘t let fear rule her decisions. That wasn‘t Cockran‘s way.

  “If I sell,” she whispered, “I won‘t have to be scared anymore.”

  Cockran put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm‘s length. “I understand your fear, Harmony,” he said, “but these men have to be faced. You cannot tip-toe around them or they will only reach for more. You‘ll be safe with us in Germany. My friend and I will handle any trouble that may come up.”

  Fear crossed her face. “You expect me to go with you to Germany?”

  “Yes, of course. The German authorities must meet the girl whose factories they aren‘t protecting and explain directly to her pretty face why they aren‘t doing their job.”

  Harmony smiled at the compliment. “How long will we be in Germany?”

  “I‘m not certain. At least a week.”

  Harmony paused. “I understand and appreciate what you‘re doing. And I do want to honor my step-father‘s memory as well as his legacy to me. After what happened to me the last time, I really don‘t want to go back to to Germany. But I will. On one condition.”

  “What‘s that?”

  “You must promise to persuade my trustees to sell the minute you think there‘s a reasonable offer on the table. Not the top dollar. Just reasonable.”

  “I promise,” Cockran said. “I‘ve always done that. My father once told me never try to squeeze the last nickel out of a deal because you lose more deals that way than you make.”

  “That‘s wonderful,” Harmony said and promptly hugged him again, her wet hair and damp breasts pressing against his chest. Cockran awkwardly put his hands on her shoulders again, not exactly returning the embrace but not pushing her away either.

  19.

  An Adventure Awaits

  Chartwell, Kent

  Sunday, 31 May 1931

  MATTIE McGary was not happy. When she called Churchill after receiving his cable, her heart had leaped when she learned that Cockran had booked an earlier passage and would be at Chartwell when she arrived. So she had spent the last day and a half on trains, not all with first-class compartments, in order to reach Chartwell as soon as possible, only to find Cockran locked in the embrace of another woman. Mattie was standing beside Churchill on the terrace at Chartwell, looking over the grounds where Cockran stood fifty yards below, the woman wearing only a robe, no less, and clutching in one hand her dress and in her other what certainly appeared to be silk unmentionables. What was that all about? And now she was hugging him again!

  “Winston, who the hell is that blonde with her arms around my man?”

  “That woman, my dear, is why Bourke is here nearly a week early. She is the stepdaughter of Sir Archibald Hampton, who was brutally murdered last week in Germany. Upon my advice, Archie had retained Bourke as his lawyer a few days before he died to help him sort out some problems his plants in Germany were suffering. Harmony is his only heir, and I persuaded her, in order to protect her financial interests, to retain Bourke as well. She was swimming in our pool and I am certain Bourke is simply offering comfort in her time of sorrow. Archie‘s funeral was only two days ago. I was one of his pallbearers.”

  “I suppose it‘s okay.” Mattie said. “Were she and her stepfather close?” She watched them resume walking, the woman‘s loosely knotted robe revealing her transparent swim suit so that anyone could see her breasts on offer beneath. Mattie‘s eyes narrowed, recognizing a rival.

  “Archie was very fond of her. He said she was a headstrong young girl, but he told me he couldn‘t love her more than if she were his own daughter. With an inheritance from her mother and Archie, young men will be flocking around her like bees to honey. She could use a levelheaded chap like Bourke to help her separate the wheat from the chaff.”

  Mattie nodded. “I suppose so, Winston. If her stepfather meant as much to her as my father did to me, I can sympathize with her grief. So long as she doesn‘t think Cockran is part of the wheat that gets separated from the chaff.”

  Churchill chuckled. “Not to worry, my dear, your own beauty will be more than sufficient to keep Bourke focused only on you.”

  Moments later, Cockran joined them on the terrace. Without his clinging new blonde client. “Well, aren‘t you a sight for sore eyes?” Cockran said before he took Mattie in his arms and kissed her hello. “What are you doing here? I didn‘t expect to see you until Venice.”

  Mattie beamed. It was exactly what she‘d hoped for, the kiss perfect as always. She‘d missed him. “I heard about your beautiful new client and I came right away to make sure that she‘s only a client. Does Bill Donovan encourage you to give all your new clients such a cozy hug?”

  Cockran laughed. “No, only beautiful blondes. What gives? Why are you here?”

  “Same reason as you. Winston tracked me down and lured m
e here early.”

  They both laughed. It felt good. Like old times. Not like their parting at Lakehurst.

  “What was the bait?” he asked.

  “Something about financing for the expedition. But Winston was mysterious.”

  “How long will you be here?”

  “At least tonight,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. I‘ll know more after I talk with Winston.” She looked up at him. “Two nights if we‘re lucky. How was the voyage?”

  Before Cockran could reply, Mattie watched the grieving and now fully clothed blonde client arrive. “Hello, I‘m Harmony. Who are you?”

  Cockran started to introduce them but Mattie cut him off before he could say a word. “I‘m Mattie McGary,” she said, flashing a sweet smile. “Bourke‘s girlfriend.”

  “Oh. I‘m pleased to meet you,” Harmony said, extending her hand and sounding slightly disappointed. “Dear Bourke has been such a comfort. I‘ve only known him for two days, but he‘s the nicest, kindest person I‘ve ever met. But then, if you‘re his girlfriend, you already know that.” Harmony said, placing entirely too much emphasis on “if” for Mattie.

  “Yes, I do, don‘t I?” Mattie replied and gave her another sweet smile.

  Mattie felt a hand on her arm. “Excuse me, Mattie. May I have a word please? Before our luncheon?” Churchill asked, drawing her away. They stopped when Churchill had walked her to the other side of the terrace, leaving Cockran and Harmony alone.

  “Make it quick, Winston. That client you rustled up for him has her claws a bit too deep in my boyfriend and I don‘t like it one bit.”

  “Now, Mattie, a young thing like Harmony can scarcely begin to approach your beauty.”

  “Don‘t give me that, Winston. She‘s drop-dead gorgeous and you know it. She looks like she‘s not a day over twenty-five.” And her breasts are bigger than mine, too, she thought.

  “Actually, she‘s twenty-seven. But what I want is to bring you up to date on the finances of the holy lance expedition. I need advice on how to handle Professor Geoffrey Campbell.”