by V. J. Banis
That, however, would have to be later. He forced his eyes from Honey’s leg, meeting Honey’s understanding smile with a wink. Business first, before Honey’s business.
“I’ll tag along with you,” he said to Mathews. “I’m curious about that note myself.”
“It isn’t necessary,” Mathews told him. He was beginning to feel dazed by the strange people who inhabited this house, and had no desire to keep company with any of them longer than necessary.
“I’d like to, though,” Jackie insisted. “After all, I flew all the way here from the West Coast just to see if that was authentic. I’m entitled to be a little curious now.”
Mathews yielded, more interested in reaching the safety outside than in arguing. “Well, all right,” he agreed, heading for the door. “But we’d better get with it.”
Jackie followed him, pausing at the door to look back at the others. “I’ll be back later,” he promised. “That is, if you can find room for me. I could always sleep on a sofa.”
“Or you could double up with Honey,” Nasturtia said.
Honey grinned. “Sounds fine,” he said, his voice a purr. “Those sofas are beastly anyway.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Mathews’ “taxi” was still waiting outside, the driver looking as patient and fresh as though he had been there only a minute or two. “My place,” Craig instructed him as they climbed in. Jackie followed him inside and sat back in silence.
“I gather the family was quite a surprise to you,” Jackie said finally.
Now that he was safely away from them, Craig could afford to grin slightly. “I’ll have to admit, they are different,” he said in a voice that might have been genuinely amused, or sarcastic, for all Jackie could tell. Mathews’ mask was an all-time thing, and thus far just about impenetrable.
“Speaking of families, reminds me,” Jackie said, deciding to try another approach. “How did a no-mystery-about-it Irishman like you ever get a name like Mathews? Wouldn’t O’Malley have been more appropriate?”
For the first time the mask seemed really to slip, and when he spoke, Mathews might have been talking to a friend instead of a casual business acquaintance whom he was keeping at arm’s length.
“Would ye laugh?” he asked in a brogue so thick it could have been cut with a knife. “If I tell you it should have been O’Malley?”
“I won’t laugh at all,” Jackie answered with sincerity. “But I’ll admit you’ve got me curious.”
“It’s not that much of a story,” Craig said, in his normal voice. “My mother was first generation, and still pure Irish. She’d have no part of any young man who wasn’t from the Isles, although there was one who was daft about her—Mathews, his name was.”
“I’d guess he finally changed her mind,” Jackie said with a smile.
“He did that—but not until after I had come on the scene—oh, not fully, mind. I wasn’t yet a baby boy, but I was more than a twinkle in my father’s eye. He was a fine handsome devil, so my mother told me when she finally confessed the story. He wooed her and won her, but he wouldn’t wed.”
“An age old story,” Jackie said.
“Yes. So, her father, of course, was all for taking a horsewhip to him and making him marry, but you know the pride of the Irish, and once he’d laughed at her, me mother wouldn’t have him. So while I was making my presence felt, and seen, she remained a single girl, and Mr. Mathews continued to court her. Finally she told him about me, and about her folly, and he just laughed and said he’d known about that since the morning after, and it made not an ort of difference. So they were married a month before I joined the family, and instead of the Timothy O’Malley I was to have been, I was Craig Mathews.”
He paused and sat quietly for a moment, and Jackie thought he was perhaps embarrassed to have talked so much, to someone he hardly knew, and little liked.
“So now you know,” Craig said at length, “that you’re with the worst sort of companion a man could ask for—an illegitimate Irish Catholic, from Boston.”
Jackie’s first impulse was to laugh, but he realized in the nick of time that he was being dared to laugh—Craig was quite serious, summing up any complaints and asking to be reassured.
“As a matter of fact, I’d be hard pressed to think of a better companion,” Jackie said instead. “It’s not every day I get to ride around with a heavenly youth from the Emerald Isles, full of stuff and blarney.”
Even the driver had to laugh at that, and Craig joined in, although he blushed also as he remembered that the young man with him was an admitted and obviously active homosexual.
They arrived then at their destination, what at first glance appeared to be merely a cleaning plant. As Jackie followed Craig inside, he realized that was only a front. Inside, behind a curtained dressing room, another door let them into a small but efficient-looking office.
“I just want to copy this,” Craig explained, removing the note. “I’ll send it to headquarters for decoding, with our driver. But I want to make a copy for us, in case anything should happen to him.”
“Make two copies,” Jackie suggested. “In case anything happens to you.”
Craig shot him a quick glance, but he did not argue, and when he returned from the adjoining room a moment later, he had two copies, one of which he handed to Jackie, the other he locked in a drawer.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he went back to the front of the shop. “I want to give Fred the original and send him on his way.”
He was back again in a minute. “Now we wait,” he announced. “How about some coffee?”
“No thanks,” Jackie answered, seating himself on a small, Naugahyde-covered divan and loosening his necktie. He rarely needed stimulants of any sort; he was trained to be always alert and ready at any time.
“Sorry I can’t offer anything to help pass the time,” Craig said, sitting at the desk.
“I could make suggestions,” Jackie said with a meaningful smile. “But I doubt you’d appreciate them, let alone go along with them.”
“You’re right,” Craig agreed quickly, keeping his face expressionless.
Very frustrating, Jackie decided with a frown. He wondered if that one even showed any feeling when he was reaching a magnificent explosion. Of course, he’d like nothing better than an opportunity to answer that question through firsthand experience. But thus far he wasn’t making much progress toward creating that opportunity.
Oh well, there was always Honey back at the house. He was grateful for the fact that he was versatile. He had always made it a policy to be what the other one wasn’t. He found that he enjoyed many more opportunities that way.
“Of course,” he said aloud, changing the subject. “We could just go to this poodle parlor and see what we can find.”
“It would be closed by this time of night,” Mathews reminded him. “And we can hardly break in without some more conclusive evidence. And we won’t have that until we know what the note says.”
So they waited. And an hour and a half later, they were still waiting. By the time the phone on Craig’s desk rang, the agent was so nervous that he nearly hit the ceiling. Jackie, too, was impatient, although he was less nervous. He had been trained to remain calm in any situation, in order to function more efficiently.
Mathews could not hide his disappointment, however, as he listened to the speaker on the other end of the line, speaking only an occasional monosyllable himself. His face was grim as he finally hung up the phone and turned to Jackie.
“We’re out of luck. The boys haven’t been able to break that code yet. They think it might be unbreakable.”
“Would you object if I took this along with me?” Jackie asked, indicating his copy of the note.
“What for?” Mathews asked.
“C.A.M.P., the organization I work for, has as fine a staff of code experts as exists anywhere in the world. I won’t believe this thing is really unbreakable until they have had a crack at it.”
Math
ews was rather disdainful. “If our boys couldn’t do anything with it, I hardly think it likely that your amateurs would do better.”
“It can’t hurt anything to let them try.” Jackie pointed out. “We’re not doing anything but sitting here wasting time anyway.”
Mathews shrugged carelessly. “I suppose you’re right there. But where do we find your people without going all the way to Los Angeles?”
“Oh, Los Angeles is only a local office, just as the one here in Washington is. Each of them operates more or less independently, but always under the assistance of High Camp, or headquarters.”
“And where is...your headquarters?”
“Even I don’t know that,” Jackie admitted. “It could be anywhere on this earth, or maybe even off of it.”
“Doesn’t that make your work a little more difficult?” Craig asked.
“Not really. We’re in constant communication—not directly, but through the local offices. And think of it this way, isn’t it a lot safer if no one knows where to find you? Look how many risks would be eliminated if no one knew where our government was located, or our atomic defenses.”
“I guess you’re right,” Mathews admitted begrudgingly; it annoyed him for some peculiar reason to think that this fairy might be able to say something intelligent. Everyone knew gay fellows were giddy and silly, and incapable of thinking deeply.
“Then I can take this message to C.A.M.P., and let the local office have a look at it?”
“All right, but on one condition,” Craig agreed. “I’ll go along, just to be sure there isn’t anything out of the way.”
“Fine,” Jackie said, with a sly grin. “But you may find things a bit unorthodox.”
“That I don’t doubt,” Mathews said, remembering Jackie’s peculiar relatives—and Jackie himself was unique, so far as that went.
They left the office and Mathews led the way to a parking lot in the rear, where a Volkswagon was parked. “Since our chauffeur never came back, we’ll have to go on our own steam,” he said, climbing behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“Lafayette Park,” Jackie instructed him.
Mathews gave him a funny glance. The park, although it was directly across the street from the nation’s most famous residence, the White House, was also notorious as a pick-up spot for homosexuals. With the traffic inside and outside the park, it was a pretty unlikely place to conduct any sort of business, particularly that of an agent.
“You’re sure,” he asked aloud.
“Much surer than I am about you,” Jackie said.
Mathews frowned and started off in the direction of the park. He had been warned that this would be unorthodox, and it had been his idea to come along—although he was beginning to regret that idea a little.
The park, as Craig had suspected, was a busy place. Young men in conspicuously tight jeans ambled up and down the walks, eyeing one another for a glimmer of interest; Mathews felt as though he were a lamb tossed into a den of hungry lions, although it was obvious that his companion was enjoying himself.
“Stop glowering and look flirtatious,” Jackie whispered as they walked. “You’re supposed to look like you belong here.”
“I can’t do that,” Craig argued.
“Fake it—pretend one of them is Ava Gardner, and another one Lana Turner.”
Craig did as suggested, with a slight improvement, but his heart wasn’t really in the act. He was just plain uncomfortable, and out of place. He had no idea why they were here, or what was coming next.
The area of the park in which they were now was dark and secluded, and for a brief moment there was no one else around. With a movement so quick that Craig scarcely realized what was happening, Jackie had left the path and ducked behind a tree, waving for Craig to follow him.
By the time Craig was there, Jackie had already tripped a switch concealed somewhere on the tree, that caused a trap door to open suddenly in the ground. So cleverly was it placed that, from even a few inches away, the opening was hidden by the bushes and the tree.
“Come on,” Jackie urged as Mathews stared in amazement. Mathews recovered sufficiently to follow Jackie down the steps that the opening had revealed. As they descended, the opening closed over their heads, and they were in darkness.
CHAPTER FIVE
The darkness lasted for only a moment. Mathews was temporarily blinded by the brilliant light that caught him full in the face. Not until the light had dimmed did he realize that they were being examined.
“The password?” A voice from out of nowhere asked.
Jackie was silent for a moment, and Craig began to fear the blond agent might have forgotten the password. He experienced a dismal vision of the two of them waiting for days in the darkness of this pit. Finally, to his relief, Jackie answered, “Rim queen.”
The light disappeared, and a second later a door opened in front of them, revealing a short, more comfortably-lighted hall. Jackie led the way down it, the door behind them closing.
“What’s a rim queen?” Mathews asked as they walked.
“Can’t be explained in words,” Jackie answered with no expression on his face. “I’d have to demonstrate it for you.”
Mathews remained curious, but discretion got the best of him. “Maybe some other time,” he answered.
The door at the other end of the hall opened for them immediately, admitting them into a spacious and luxurious waiting room of sorts. “Where are we?” Craig asked, amazed to find himself in a room that would have served any penthouse well.
“Specifically, just about the center of the park,” Jackie explained. “Or, if you didn’t mean geographically, we’re now at the local office of C.A.M.P.”
“Isn’t this rather a dangerous place for it,” Craig asked. “Looks to me like it would be touchy to get in and out of.”
“Not at all,” Jackie assured him. “In the first place, that park is the sort of place where no one would question seeing a homosexual, or even question it if he seems to have disappeared. As you saw, the opening would be impossible to find accidentally, and if it were found, no one would get beyond the first entrance. In any case, there is even another entrance. It opens from one of the sewers under Pennsylvania Avenue, and that can be reached from a nearby building. So you see, everything is taken care of.”
Mathews had to admit it was certainly a more complex organization than he had originally imagined. “Now what?” he asked, glancing around. They were alone in the office, and so far no one had approached them.
“Oh, you’ll have to have a seat. You’ll find a bar behind that folding screen over there, and there should be hot coffee also. I’ll take this note in and let them get started on it.”
While Craig poured himself a cup of coffee, Jackie disappeared through another door. He returned a few minutes later and poured brandy for himself, taking a seat facing Craig.
“This must be quite an outfit,” Craig said after a moment of silence. “I didn’t realize it was so big an operation.”
“Few people do,” Jackie said quietly. “In fact, few know of its existence—but that makes our work easier, so we don’t mind.”
“But you’re sort of a policeman for fag...for homosexuals, aren’t you? How can you do any good for them if they don’t know you exist? They can’t very well report things to you.”
“Oh, they do, in various ways. There are people who know of us, in the first place. The leaders in the homophile movement, agents who work undercover in strategic jobs—some of them with police departments. And there are the regular news media, that give us information on things happening around the world, particularly anything that appears to be organized and large scale.”
“So when any homosexual runs into a problem, you’re there, is what you’re saying?”
“Well, we can’t of course be on hand for every crime involving a homosexual, nor would I want to be. Let’s face it, many homosexuals go around constantly asking for trouble. If it were only their own lives involved, then
it would be only their own personal business, but they make things worse for all of us. On the other hand, homosexuals are too often the innocent victims of unscrupulous people. That’s were our interests lie. And I doubt that much goes on in the world of the homosexual that is not known to High Camp. Without trying to detail the sort of information kept on file, High Camp’s records include full histories of some five million homosexuals throughout the world.”
Craig was impressed. “I would never have guessed there were that many.”
Jackie grinned and shrugged. “Those are only the known ones, although the fact that they’re known to us doesn’t mean they’re notorious. Some of them are at the absolute top of the governmental levels.”
“Well, I must say your outfit is impressive. But tell me, where did it come from? How did it get started?”
“No one really knows for sure. Legend has it that the original founder of the organization was a man who was enormously wealthy and powerful in one of the Midwestern states. Among other things, he had managed to have a friend of his put in charge of the local state police. Both of them had lovers, the sweet young thing type.”
“One night the two younger ones, who both went to evening classes, were leaving the library after doing some studying together. The park surrounding the library was quite a hangout for rough trade, and the two were accosted by a gang of young punks—dirt, we call them. They got badly beaten, and robbed. As the story goes, their two older lovers were angry, and decided together to set up a vigilante team, to watch over that park. They kept a constant string of husky young homosexuals there, to clean it up.”
“I’d never thought of young homosexuals as being husky—or guard material, for that matter.”
“They can be. These were,” Jackie said.
“But that still doesn’t explain the name of your organization.”
“Ah, yes. Well, the ones who guarded that original park were said to be camping, because they all but lived there. Anyway, it worked well, and in short order the park was cleaned up.
