The Other Side of Midnight
Page 26
Sakowitz stood there looking after him. His secretary came hurrying in. She saw the overturned chair and Sakowitz's bloody lip.
"Are you all right?" she asked.
"Terrific," he said. "Ask Mr. Eastman if he can see me."
Ten minutes later Sakowitz had finished relating the incident to Carl Eastman.
"What do you think's wrong with Douglas?" Eastman asked.
"Honestly? I think he's a psycho."
Eastman regarded him with his piercing hazel eyes. "That's pretty strong, Sak. He wasn't drunk when he was flying. No one could even prove that he'd had a drink on the ground. And anyone can be late once in a while."
"If that's all it was, I wouldn't have fired him, Carl. Douglas has a low boiling point. To tell you the truth I was trying to provoke him today, and it wasn't hard. If he had stood up under the pressure, I might have taken a chance and kept him on. You know what worries me?"
"What?"
Sakowitz said, "A few days ago I ran into an old buddy who flew with Douglas in the RAF. He told me a crazy story. It seems that when Douglas was in the Eagle Squadron he fell for a little English girl who was engaged to a boy named Clark in Douglas' Squadron. Douglas did everything he could to move in, but the girl wasn't having any. A week before she and Clark were to get married, the Squadron went up to cover some B-Seventeens in a raid over Dieppe. Douglas was flying at the rear of the Squadron. The fortresses dropped their bombs and everyone headed for home. Coming back over the Channel, they were hit by some Messerschmidts, and Clark was shot down." He stopped, lost in some reverie of his own. Eastman waited for him to go on and finally Sakowitz looked up at him. "According to my friend there were no Messerschmidts anywhere near Clark when he got it."
Eastman stared at him unbelievingly. "Jesus! Are you saying that Larry Douglas...?"
"I'm not saying anything. I'm just telling you an interesting story I heard." He put his handkerchief to his lip again. The bleeding had stopped. "It's hard to tell what's happening in the middle of a dogfight. Maybe Clark just ran out of gas. One thing is certain. He sure as hell ran out of luck."
"What happened to his girl?"
"Douglas moved in with her until he came back to the States, then he dumped her." He looked at Eastman thoughtfully. "I'll tell you one thing, for sure. I feel sorry for Douglas' wife."
Catherine was in the conference room having a staff meeting when the door opened and Larry walked in.
His eye was bruised and swollen, his cheek was cut. She hurried over to him. "Larry, what happened?"
"I quit my job," he mumbled.
Catherine took him into her office, away from the curious gazes of the others, and put a cold cloth to his eye and his cheek. "Tell me about it," she said, holding in her anger at what they had done to him.
"They've been riding me for a long time, Cathy. I think they were jealous because I was in the war and they weren't. Anyway, today was the topper. Sakowitz called me in and told me the only reason they hired me in the first place was because you were Bill Fraser's sweetheart."
Catherine looked at him, speechless.
"I hit him," Larry said. "I couldn't help it."
"Oh, darling!" Catherine said. "I'm so sorry."
"Sakowitz is sorrier," Larry replied. "I really clobbered him. Job or no job, I wasn't going to let anyone talk about you that way."
She held him close to her, reassuringly. "Don't worry. You can go to work for any airline in the country."
Catherine proved to be a poor prophet. Larry applied to all the airlines and several of them gave him interviews but nothing came of any of them. Bill Fraser had lunch with Catherine and she told him what had happened. Fraser said nothing, but he was very thoughtful all through lunch. Several times she felt he was on the verge of telling her something, but each time he stopped. Finally he said, "I know a lot of people, Cathy. Would you like me to see what I can do for Larry somewhere else?"
"Thanks," Catherine said gratefully. "But I don't think so. We'll work it out ourselves."
Fraser regarded her a moment, then nodded. "Let me know if you change your mind."
"I will," she said appreciatively. "It seems I'm always coming to you with my problems."
ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 "D" Street
Washington, D.C.
Reference #2-179-210 April 1, 1946
Dear Monsieur Barbet:
Thank you for your letter of March 15, 1946, and your bank draft.
Since my last report, Subject has secured employment as a pilot with The Flying Wheels Transport Company, a small independent freight company operating out of Long Island. A Dun and Bradstreet check shows that they are capitalized under $750,000. Their equipment consists of a converted B-26 and a converted DC-3. They have bank loans in excess of $400,000. The Vice-President of the Banque de Paris in New York where they have their major account assures me that the company has an excellent growth potential and future. The bank is considering loaning them sufficient money to buy additional airplanes based on their current income of $80,000 per year with projected increases of 30% per year, over the next five years.
If you wish further details on the financial aspects of the company, please let me know.
Subject began work on March 19, 1946. The personnel manager (who is also one of the owners) informed my operative that he felt very fortunate to have Subject flying for him. More details to follow.
Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg
Managing Supervisor
Banque de Paris
New York City, New York
Philippe Chardon
President of the Board
Cher Nelle,
Tu es vraiment mauvaise! Je ne sais pas ce que cet homme t'a fait, mais quoique ce soit, il a paye. Il a ete mis a la porte aux Flying Wheels cie, et mon ami me dit qu'il en a pique une crise.
Je pense etre a Athenes, et je compte te voir.
Mes amities a Costa--et ne tien fais pas la petite faveur que je t'ai faite restera notre secret.
Affectuesement a toi, Philippe
ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 "D" Street
Washington, D.C.
Reference #2-179-210 May 22, 1946
Dear Monsieur Barbet:
This is a follow-up to my report of May 1, 1946.
On May 14, 1946, Subject was fired by The Flying Wheels Transport Company. I have tried to make discreet inquiries as to the reason, but each time have run up against a brick wall. No one there will discuss it, I can only assume that the Subject did something to disgrace himself, and they don't want to talk about it.
Subject is looking for another flying job, but apparently has no immediate prospects.
I will continue to try to get more information about why he was discharged.
Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg
Managing Supervisor
CABLEGRAM May 29, 1946
Christian Barbet
Cable Chrisbar Paris, France
CABLE ACKNOWLEDGED STOP WILL IMMEDIATELY DROP INVESTIGATION OF REASON FOR SUBJECT BEING FIRED STOP WILL CONTINUE EVERYTHING ELSE AS BEFORE
REGARDS,
R. RUTTENBERG
ACME SECURITY AGENCY
ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 "D" Street
Washington, D.C.
Reference #2-179-210 June 16, 1946
Dear Monsieur Barbet:
Thank you for your letter of June 10th and your bank draft.
On June 15th, Subject obtained employment as a co-pilot with Global Airways, a regional feeder airline operating between Washington, Boston and Philadelphia.
Global Airways is a small new airline with a fleet of three converted war planes, and as far as I have been able to ascertain, they are undercapitalized and in debt. A Vice-President of the firm informed me that they have been promised a loan from the Dallas First National Bank within the next sixty days which will give them enough capital to consolidate their bills and to expand.
/> Subject is held in high esteem and appears to have a good future there.
Please let me know whether you require any further information about Global Airways.
Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg,
Managing Supervisor
ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 "D" Street
Washington, D.C.
Reference #2-179-210 July 20, 1946
Dear Monsieur Barbet:
Global Airways has unexpectedly filed for bankruptcy and is going out of operation. As far as I can learn, this move was forced by the refusal of the Dallas First National Bank to grant the loan that was promised. Subject is now unemployed again and back to earlier patterns of behavior, as outlined in previous reports.
I will not pursue any investigation into the reason for the bank's refusal of the loan or Global Airways' financial difficulties unless you specifically advise me to do so.
Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg
Managing Supervisor
Noelle kept all the reports and the clippings in a special leather bag to which she had the only key. The bag was kept inside a locked suitcase and stored at the back of her bedroom closet, not because she thought Demiris would pry into her things, but because she knew how much he loved intrigue. This was Noelle's personal vendetta, and she wanted to be sure that Demiris remained unaware of it.
Constantin Demiris was going to play a part in her plan of vengeance, but he would never know about it. Noelle took a last look at the memorandum and locked it away, satisfied.
She was ready to begin.
It started with a phone call.
Catherine and Larry were having an uneasy silence-filled dinner at home. Larry had been home very little lately, and when he was home he was surly and rude. Catherine understood his unhappiness.
"It's as though some demon is on my back," he had told her when Global Airways had gone bankrupt. And it was true. He had had an incredible run of bad luck. Catherine tried to reassure Larry, to keep reminding him of what a wonderful pilot he was and how lucky anyone would be to have him. But it was like living with a wounded lion. Catherine never knew when he would lash out at her, and because she was afraid of letting him down, she tried to understand his wild rages and overlook them. The phone rang as she was serving dessert. She picked up the receiver.
"Hello."
There was an Englishman's voice on the other end of the line and it said, "Is Larry Douglas in, please? Ian Whitestone here."
"Just a moment." She held the receiver out to Larry. "It's for you. Ian Whitestone."
He frowned, puzzled. "Who?" Then his face cleared. "For Christ's sake!" He walked over and took the receiver from Catherine. "Ian?" He gave a short laugh. "My God, it's been almost seven years. How the hell did you ever track me down?"
Catherine watched Larry nodding and smiling as he listened. At the end of what seemed like five minutes, he said, "Well, that sounds interesting, old buddy. Sure I can. Where?" He listened. "Right. Half an hour. I'll see you then." Thoughtfully, he replaced the receiver.
"Is he a friend of yours?" Catherine asked.
Larry turned to face her. "No, not really. That's what's so funny. He's a guy I flew with in the RAF. We never really got along all that well. But he says he has a proposition for me."
"What kind of proposition?" Catherine asked.
Larry shrugged. "I'll let you know when I get home."
It was almost three o'clock in the morning when Larry returned to the apartment. Catherine was sitting up in bed reading. Larry appeared at the bedroom door.
"Hi."
Something had happened to him. He radiated an excitement that Catherine had not seen in him for a long time. He walked over to the bed.
"How did your meeting go?"
"I think it went great," Larry said, carefully. "In fact it went so great I still can't believe it. I think I may have a job."
"Working for Ian Whitestone?"
"No. Ian's a pilot--like me. I told you we flew together."
"Yes."
"Well--after the war, a Greek buddy of his got him a job as a private pilot for Demiris."
"The shipping tycoon?"
"Shipping, oil, gold--Demiris owns half the world. Whitestone had a beautiful setup over there."
"What happened?"
Larry looked at her and grinned. "Whitestone's quit his job. He's going to Australia. Someone's setting him up in his own business over there."
"I still don't understand," said Catherine. "What does all this have to do with you?"
"Whitestone spoke to Demiris about my taking his place. He just quit, and Demiris hasn't had a chance to look around for a replacement. Whitestone thinks I'm a cinch for the job." He hesitated. "You don't know what this could mean, Cathy."
Catherine thought of the other times, the other jobs, and she remembered her father and his empty dreams, and she kept her voice noncommittal, not wishing to encourage any false hopes in Larry, and yet not wanting to dampen his enthusiasm.
"Didn't you say you and Whitestone weren't particularly good friends?"
He hesitated. "Yeah." A small frown creased his forehead. The truth of the matter was that he and Ian Whitestone had never liked each other at all. The telephone call tonight had been a big surprise. At the meeting, Whitestone had seemed oddly ill at ease. When he had explained the situation and Larry had said, "I'm surprised that you thought of me," there had been an awkward pause, and then Whitestone had said, "Demiris wants a great pilot, and that's what you are." It was almost as though Whitestone were pressing the job on him and that Larry would be doing him a favor. He had appeared very relieved when Larry said he was interested and then seemed anxious to leave. All in all it had been a strange meeting.
"This could be the chance of a lifetime," Larry told Cathy. "Demiris was paying Whitestone fifteen thousand drachmas a month. That's five hundred dollars and he lived like a king over there."
"But wouldn't that mean you'd be living in Greece?"
"We'd be living in Greece," Larry corrected her. "With that kind of money, we could save enough to be independent in a year. I've got to take a shot at it."
Catherine was hesitant, choosing her words carefully. "Larry, it's so far away and you don't even know Constantin Demiris. There must be a flying job here that..."
"No!" His tone was savage. "Nobody gives a shit here how good a pilot you are. All they care about is how long you've paid your goddam union dues. Over there, I'd be independent. It's the kind of thing I've been dreaming of, Cathy. Demiris has a fleet of planes you wouldn't believe, and I'll be flying again, baby. The only one I'd have to please would be Demiris, and Whitestone says he'll love me."
She thought again of Larry's job at Pan Am and the hopes he had had for it and his failures with the small airlines. My God, she thought. What am I getting myself into? It would mean giving up the business she had built, going to live in a strange place with strangers, with a husband who was almost a stranger.
He was watching her. "Are you with me?"
She looked up at his eager face. This was her husband and if she wanted to keep her marriage, she would have to live where he lived. And how lovely it would be if it did work out. He would be the old Larry again. The charming, amusing, wonderful man she had married. She had to give it a chance.
"Of course I'm with you," Catherine said. "Why don't you fly over and see Demiris? If the job works out, then I'll come over and join you."
He smiled, that charming, boyish grin. "I knew I could count on you, baby." He put his arms around her and held her close. "You'd better take off that nightgown," Larry said, "or I'm going to poke holes in it."
But as Catherine slowly took it off, she was thinking about how she was going to tell Bill Fraser.
Early the next morning Larry flew to Athens to meet Constantin Demiris.
During the next few days Catherine heard nothing from her husband. As the week dragged by, she found herself hoping that things had not worke
d out in Greece and that Larry would be coming home. Even if he got the position with Demiris, there was no way of telling how long it would last. Surely he could find a job in the United States.
Six days after Larry had left, Catherine received an overseas phone call.
"Catherine?"
"Hello, darling."
"Get packed. You're talking to Constantin Demiris' new personal pilot."
Ten days later, Catherine was on her way to Greece.
Book Two
NOELLE AND CATHERINE
Athens: 1946
14
Men mold some cities, some cities mold men. Athens is an anvil that has withstood the hammer of centuries. It has been captured and despoiled by the Saracens, the Anglos, the Turks, but each time it patiently survived. Athens lies toward the southern end of the great central plain of Attica, which slopes gently toward the Saronic Gulf on the southwest and is overlooked on the east by the majestic Mount Hymettus. Underneath the shiny patina of the city one still found a village filled with ancient ghosts and steeped in rich tradition of timeless glories, where its citizens lived as much in their past as in the present, a city of constant surprise, full of discovery, and in the end unknowable.
Larry was at the Hellenikon Airport to meet Catherine's plane. She saw him hurrying toward the ramp, his face eager and excited as he ran toward her. He looked tanner and leaner than when she had last seen him, and he seemed to be free of strain.
"I've missed you, Cathy," he said as he scooped her up in his arms.
"I've missed you too." And as she said it, she realized how much she meant it. She kept forgetting the strong physical impact that Larry had on her until they met after an absence and each time it hit her anew.
"How did Bill Fraser take the news?" Larry asked as he helped her through Customs.
"He was very good about it."
"He had no choice, had he?" Larry said, sardonically.
Catherine remembered her meeting with Bill Fraser. He had looked at her, shocked. "You're going to go off to Greece to live? Why, for God's sakes?"
"It's in the fine print of my marriage contract," she had replied lightly.
"I mean, why can't Larry get a job here, Catherine?"