by V. J. Banis
Aunt Nasturtia arrived soon, and the meeting was ready to begin. Jackie toyed with Honey’s sizable charms as he listened to Aunt Lily’s opening remarks. The excitement of spying was discussed, and it was agreed that all had enjoyed their brief episode, and would enjoy more such sport. Jackie did not have the heart to tell them that it wasn’t all such fun. In any event, he was convinced that merely contemplating spying would keep them happily occupied for a few days.
“Now,” Aunt Lily was saying, obviously enjoying her role as ringleader. “I’ve chosen a name for our organization. We’re going to call ourselves WATERCRESS.”
“WATERCRESS?” Honey repeated.
“I think it’s charming,” Nasturtia offered.
“What does it mean?” Mari wanted to know.
“Women Acting Together, Enlightened, Righteous, Courageous, Responsible, Enterprising, Strong, and Sensible.”
“But that’s silly,” Honey protested with a pout. “You didn’t say anything about me. I’m not a woman.”
Mari giggled, but Aunt Lily silenced her with a frown. “Well, darling, can’t you see, we can’t very well spell WATERCRESS with an M-it wouldn’t come out right. You’ll just have to be sort of a silent partner.”
“I still don’t like it,” Honey grumbled.
“I think it’s cute,” Mari decided. Jackie avoided making any comment. After all, it wasn’t his party.
“Besides,” Aunt Lily went on. “We’ll make it up to you by giving you one of the more important roles in the organization. We’re going to make you our signal man.”
“What’s that?”
“The man who gives signals, of course. Every secret organization has to have a communication system of some kind, and a code, just like Butterfly. Well, ours is going to be music.”
“Music?” Honey sounded dubious, but somewhat more interested.
“Of course. Well have various pieces of music which each have a specific meaning. When you want to give us a message, you just play the ‘Moonlight Sonata’ to tell us of danger.”
“I only know the first movement,” Honey reminded her.
“I’m sure that’s all we’d need,” Aunt Lily insisted. “By the time you get that played, we should have gotten the message.”
“But that’s the only piece I know.”
“Well, then, you’ll just have to learn some new ones, and inform us of what each one means.”
Honey seemed pacified by that explanation, and lapsed into thoughtful silence, not even noticing Jackie’s hand which was still busy on Honey’s lap.
The rest of the meeting was free of much argument, although this may have been accounted for in part by the fact that Nasturtia and Gladiola were both asleep by now. Aunt Lily herself would assume the responsibility of finding an outlet for their services.
She shot Jackie a hopeful glance, but he shook his head. He did not think C.A.M.P. would particularly welcome the efforts of WATERCRESS as a partner. He could hardly wait, however, to see Craig Mathews’ reaction to the news. And at the thought of the handsome Irishman, Jackie felt a quickening of his pulse. He began to wish for Aunt Lily to cut her explanation short. Of a sudden, he was in a hurry to get back to bed, although he was not in the least sleepy.
* * * *
Late in the morning, Jackie paid a visit to the C.I.A. His excuse was a curiosity regarding any subsequent developments, although his real purpose was merely to see Craig again. Regrettably, Craig was out. Eventually he was greeted by a rather flirtatious Miss Temple, who proved to be the secretary of the C.I.A. chief himself.
Miss Temple, one of the antiseptically pretty breed of women who somehow manage to find themselves in the government service, was more than a little interested in Jackie, which he found peculiar. She certainly would know who he was, that he worked for a homosexual organization and was presumably himself homosexual.
But then, he reminded himself wearily, many women liked that—they seemed to regard it as a challenge, and fed their egos with the satisfaction of diverting a boy’s interest from males to themselves. In this case, however, she was wasting her time. Jackie had been normal far too long to become interested in the opposite sex now. He left a message for Craig, which he doubted would be delivered, and prepared to leave.
“If you happen to be watching television this afternoon, you’ll see Craig, and me also,” Miss Temple offered as Jackie reached the door.
He paused briefly. “Not a quiz show, I hope.”
Miss Temple laughed, a terribly phony sound. “Oh no, just an appearance by our boss. I’ll be with him at the luncheon. I’m afraid Craig will be harder to spot, since he’ll be mingling unostentatiously in the crowd, but if you look you should be able to spot him.”
Jackie thanked her and left.
* * * *
He arrived back at Aunt Lily’s house to find that her day had been no more productive than his. She had attempted to call both the U.S. State Department, and the Russian Embassy, with absolutely no success at either address.
“They wouldn’t even talk to me,” Aunt Lily snorted angrily. “Not even when I explained that we were spies, and looking for work. I even asked at the Russian Embassy if we couldn’t buy some little piece of information, just to get ourselves started.”
Jackie smiled and offered her consolation. Finally he made his way upstairs to Honey’s room. Enjoyable though his visit was, he knew that he would soon have to be returning to Los Angeles. Rich had kindly not contacted him with any assignments, but he knew that merely meant his partner was burdening himself with extra work. He would have liked to become better acquainted with Craig, of course, but that seemed an unlikely possibility. In the long run, it would probably be wiser if he began his packing and made ready to depart.
His efforts were interrupted, however, by Aunt Nasturtia’s appearance in the room. She burst in without knocking, a fact in itself unusual.
“You’ve got to come down and look at the television,” she sputtered, tugging at his arm wildly. “Come quickly, oh, please.”
“The television?” Jackie was bewildered by her actions, but he allowed himself to be piloted down the stairs toward the den, where the older model television set was kept, hidden from the sight of guests.
As he entered the room and saw the luncheon scene on view, he remembered Miss Temple’s remarks at the C.I.A. offices earlier.
“Oh, yes,” he said aloud, a little annoyed that Aunt Nasturtia should have made such a big thing out of Craig’s appearance on television. “Craig is on this afternoon.”
“No, not him,” Aunt Nasturtia was saying, pointing hysterically at the screen. Aunt Lily was there too, and she seemed every bit as excited. “The woman!”
“The woman?” The only woman on the screen at the moment was Miss Temple herself, seated dutifully at the side of her boss.
“That’s her,” Aunt Nasturtia explained in an excited voice. “That’s the woman with the other white poodle!”
Jackie suddenly understood the reason for all the excitement. “You mean the one at the poodle parlor, the one whose dog they got mixed up with Fritz?”
“That’s her, I’m positive.”
Jackie stared dumfounded at Miss Temple’s bland face on the screen. If Aunt Nasturtia was correct in her identification...and if the note they had intercepted had really been intended for the other white poodle...then Miss Temple was an agent for Butterfly! It was incredible, the secretary to the chief of the C.I.A.—and yet, it was possible.
“Whew,” he gasped, seating himself. “This could be something really big. I have a feeling I’d better get in touch with Craig, and right away.”
“Jackie, dear.” It was Aunt Lily who delayed him, tugging at his sleeve gently but firmly. “There’s just one thing. It is our discovery, you remember.”
Jackie nodded reluctantly, already suspecting what was coming next, and not knowing how to prevent it.
“Well then, I want you to promise us that WATERCRESS will be in on the case.”
“Aunt Lily, I can’t promise anything like that. For one thing, it isn’t even my case. It’s a C.I.A. matter, and they might not even want me butting in.”
“Well then, promise me you’ll at least ask that nice young man, Mr. Mathews. If you ask him, I’m sure he’ll let us help. That’s all we want to do, really. We have no intention of taking his job away from him.”
Jackie sighed. “I’ll try, Aunt Lily. But be prepared, if you do get to help, to find that it may be very dull and very routine work. You’ll be acting as flunkies, if anything.”
“Oh, we’ll be thrilled to do anything at all,” Aunt Lily promised him, all smiles and happiness again.
Just how he should go about turning this case over to the C.I.A. remained something of a puzzle to Jackie. He could hardly go to the chief, since that would mean going through Miss Temple, and perhaps tipping her off to the details. Craig was decidedly the best bet, but he would have to see Craig privately. With that in mind, he telephoned and left a message for Craig to contact him, adding that it was urgent.
That brought a suggestion that someone else handle the matter, which Jackie declined, and a request for information regarding the problem, which Jackie again declined. The young man on the other end of the line sounded both disappointed and annoyed by the time the conversation was ended.
Nevertheless, Craig did call, in the middle of the afternoon. Jackie explained that he could not go into details over the phone and, although Craig sounded dubious, he finally agreed to meet Jackie for a drink later in the afternoon.
* * * *
At first, Craig was cold and distant, as he had been at their first meeting. As Jackie explained, quickly and efficiently, the situation that had developed, Craig lost his aloofness and became all attention.
“Miss Temple?” he said finally, aghast. “But that’s not possible...or is it...?”
Jackie allowed him to contemplate the matter for a moment or two before going on. “As you can see for yourself, it’s a touchy situation. One could hardly make a charge without being absolutely certain of being able to prove it. Personally, I think it would be well worth your while to investigate it, strictly on the Q.T. That way, if nothing comes of it, you haven’t caused any embarrassment for yourself, or for anybody else. And if it all checks out, then it will be a fine feather in your cap.”
“You’re right, of course.” Craig was frowning thoughtfully as he swirled his drink about in his glass. “But I’ll need some help.”
Jackie said nothing, waiting for the handsome agent to continue.
“I’m not too keen on your outfit, or on your kind. I guess you know that.” Craig softened the remark with an apologetic, heart-melting grin. His Irish eyes were smiling, and just like the song they were stealing Jackie’s heart away.
“Still, I have to admit you’re a sharp operator,” Craig continued. “What do you say, how about giving me a hand with this one, at least until I’ve something definite to go on?”
Jackie remembered his promise to Aunt Lily. He hated to involve his zany relatives in the case at all, but he couldn’t go back on his word—and anyway, it was entirely possible they might be useful. After all, until they had a definite case, he and Craig would be working on their own.
“It’s a deal,” he said finally. “But on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to let my aunts and cousins help too.” Ignoring Craig’s dismayed expression, Jackie explained quickly about WATERCRESS and its intended functions, and about his promise to Aunt Lily.
“They can’t hurt anything,” he finished. “And I’ve a feeling we might need their help.”
“All right,” Craig gave in finally. “But I have a feeling myself. I have a feeling we’ll both regret this before it’s all over.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
As it developed, the two agents were to need the help of WATERCRESS sooner than expected. In discussing their plans, it soon became evident to Jackie and Craig that the first step would be to check out Miss Temple. If there was an assassination plot underway, and the message had been intended for her, then that was the logical way to begin foiling the plot.
It was obvious, however, that neither Jackie nor Craig, both of whom were known to her, could attempt to do any snooping. That meant calling in someone else to help.
“I still don’t like it,” Craig objected as they discussed the plan that Jackie had come up with. “Your aunts are both charming ladies, I’m sure, but I don’t think either one of them has the brains to accomplish anything for us. Even if they did, it’s just too dangerous a job to send them out on.”
“We don’t have much choice,” Jackie pointed out to him. “Someone has got to get inside Miss Temple’s apartment and see what can be found there. Neither one of us could get away with it; and besides, as long as Aunt Lily and Aunt Nasturtia are posing as cosmetic salesladies, I don’t see that there’ll be too much danger for them. Just to be on the safe side, I’ll equip them with warning signals, and hang around outside. If anything goes wrong, they can always let me know and I can be there in time to prevent anything from happening.”
“I guess you’re right,” Craig admitted begrudgingly. “But I still don’t have much faith in them.”
Although he would not admit to them before Craig, Jackie too had his doubts. Fond as he was of his aunts, he knew them to be scatterbrained and silly, dangerous traits in the spying profession. Still, as he had argued, they were the most likely prospects for getting inside Miss Temple’s apartment and “casing” the place.
Aunt Lily and Aunt Nasturtia, however, were quite confident, and excited beyond compare. The plan was a simple one. They were to appear at Miss Temple’s door as saleswomen, and talk their way inside. Once there, Aunt Nasturtia would create a diversion by fainting. While Miss Temple was helping with Nasturtia, Lily would have her opportunity to look around for anything of particular interest.
“But what exactly will I be looking for?” Aunt Lily asked when the plan had been discussed.
“That’s the difficult part,” Jackie answered. “I don’t know myself. You’ll have to use your own judgment, and just look for anything that looks really out of the ordinary.”
He gave her a large corsage to be pinned to the bodice of her dress. “It’s a camera,” he explained, showing her the mechanism concealed in the artificial blossoms. “When you get inside the door, just touch this switch, and it will start filming. It will continue automatically for an hour.”
“Oh, how exciting.”
“Just remember to start it when you get inside,” he reminded her. He also gave each of them small, trivial-looking lockets to be worn about their necks on small gold chains. “These are alarms. If anything goes wrong, break the chain with a quick yank. That’ll bring me running from outside.”
* * * *
A short time later, Jackie was seated in a car outside the apartment building in which Miss Temple lived. He had dropped Aunt Lily and Aunt Nasturtia two blocks away, so that they would not be seen with him. That effort was wasted, however, for as they approached on the sidewalk, Aunt Nasturtia saw him and waved cheerfully. Jackie groaned inwardly and looked away, hoping Miss Temple had not been at her window to see the action.
Nasturtia was fairly bubbling over with excitement as they went up in the elevator. Aunt Lily, however, had grown nervous now that the moment was at hand. She actually jumped when the door opened in response to her knock, and Miss Temple herself stood before them.
“Savon calling,” Lily managed to chirp, swallowing weakly.
“We’ve come to show you how you too can be beautiful,” Nasturtia added with a toothy smile.
Miss Temple surveyed the two of them. “You should practice what you preach,” she said coldly, starting to close the door.
Aunt Lily recovered her senses in time to block the closing of the door with one foot. “Oh, we won’t take but a minute of your time, and we do have some wonderful things to show you.”
“Would it matter in the least if I promised to believe it?” Miss Temple asked sarcastically. She was trying to force the door closed, but Aunt Lily had taken advantage of an opportunity to squeeze halfway inside. Now she was stubbornly holding her ground.
“Oh, all right,” Miss Temple surrendered finally, opening the door so quickly that Aunt Lily all but fell into the room. “But make it quick, will you?”
The two swept triumphantly into the room. Aunt Lily’s eyes were everywhere, darting about in search of any clue she might find. Miss Temple had crossed the room to pour herself a drink from a crystal decanter.
“Psst,” Aunt Nasturtia asked in a loud stage whisper that would easily have carried for blocks, “did you remember the camera?”
Miss Temple looked up with her eyes wide. “What was that?” she demanded sharply.
Aunt Lily shot a ferocious glance at Nasturtia, and sought desperately for an explanation. “Oh, I’m afraid my assistant is a bit presumptuous. You see, we sometimes carry a camera with us when we’re demonstrating Savon cosmetics, so that we can take before-and-after pictures. But I’m sure that’s hardly the sort of thing you’d want to participate in.”
“Hardly,” Miss Temple agreed. Although her tone was dry, she at least seemed to accept the explanation, to Aunt Lily’s relief. With Miss Temple watching her so closely, however, Aunt Lily had not yet had an opportunity to start the camera. Heaven only knew what important clues she was passing by.
According to the plan, it should have been time for Nasturtia to faint. There was scarcely time for this to be attempted, however, before the doorbell rang again. Miss Temple glowered at it and at her two unwelcome guests before she went to answer it.
Aunt Lily could not see who was at the door, but the voices carried clearly.
“Important message,” a male voice explained. “It’s from Bigelow himself.”
Aunt Lily’s pulse quickened as she realized they might have arrived at a highly crucial moment. She strained her ears to hear more, but the conversation was rudely interrupted by the fact that Aunt Nasturtia did pick that precise moment, after all, to faint.
