CHAPTER 43
Impending Doom
NEW YORK/WASHINGTON, D.C., NOVEMBER 1949
Returning to New York, Jordan opened his apartment door to find his private phone ringing. Dropping his coat and bag and ignoring his wife’s hostile glare, he rushed across the room to answer it. He was greeted by the familiar voice of his legal colleague from Los Angeles, Dale Pennington.
“Jordan, I have just received word that Manuel Arena has been killed, gangland style. His safe has been cleaned out. I think it is safe to assume our money and our files may be in some very strange and dangerous hands.”
Jordan found himself gasping for air under the crushing pressure of impending doom. He hung up without another word. His years of transatlantic cartel work evaporated overnight. He immediately thought, The only other time when I felt this much pressure was the day Germany declared war on the United States and years of work literally disappeared like a puff of smoke.
Maybe I better take the time to sit down and rethink what has been happening. The federal government has become involved. Somehow, the Sentinels seem to be aware of our every move. Our plans are being tipped off in advance. Security agents have been killed or captured. Who knows what they have told the government? Our plans to accelerate rearmament have been exposed. Stone and Matthews are in possession of the financial details of our contributions and disbursements, and now the funds we were planning to use for “Plan B” are missing. Soon, I am supposed to meet with both national political committees to determine how much money is required to acquire our needed influence.
* * *
“J” NEEDED TIME TO THINK! WITHOUT SAYING A WORD TO HIS WIFE, lost in his own thoughts, Jordan made his way into his library, poured himself a generous portion of his favorite scotch whiskey, selected a cigar from the everpresent humidor, and sat down in his big comfortable chair. J, has the time arrived when it is necessary for you to question what you have become involved in? Are you certain you want to be responsible for whatever they have planned next?
After all these years, how do I continue to practice law, manage our law firm, and exercise the authority my position requires? If I abandon the needs of my client base, what will happen to me if I just walk away, the same way Mercedes did? Am I really prepared to sacrifice all the support and influence I have spent a lifetime building?
I am too young and have too much energy to retire. What could I do to sustain a useful, productive life, one that I would enjoy and find fulfilling?
Wait a minute. Why should someone who has spent so much of his time serving the needs of others expect to know the answers to his own questions? That doesn’t mean better solutions don’t exist. I just don’t know what they are.
* * *
IN THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED, JORDAN SPENT MUCH OF HIS TIME thinking about his problem. My orderly world and my reputation lay in ruins. I can’t confide in my wife, my law partners, my clients, or my friends at the club. Could Mercedes be the only one who might appreciate discussing my problems with me?
* * *
AT WORK, HIS PARTNERS WERE BEGINNING TO QUESTION THE APPARENT decline in billable charges of Jordan’s clients. Longtime clients weren’t returning his calls. Lunches were being canceled.
Trying to distract himself from the disasters that had befallen him, Jordan decided to call Stanley Victor. He needed some way to disguise his true intention of meeting with Mercedes. The thought of spending a weekend in the Virginia countryside with his new-old best friend made Jordan smile for the first time in days. He’d become so detached from his work, he didn’t think twice when he tossed a scrap of paper with notes on the trip into his office wastebasket.
CHAPTER 44
Gift from a Friend
CHARLOTTESVILLE, VIRGINIA, DECEMBER 1949
Accustomed to Jordan spending weekends in Washington, his wife rarely questioned him about his frequent trips and had learned not to talk to him about his work. Any communicative rapport they might have previously enjoyed was dissolving into a highly polarized relationship. Life in the McWilliams’s household was rapidly becoming that of two old friends living separate lives in the same house.
With all the changes taking place in his life, thinking of Mercedes represented the high point of his day. Instinctively, Jordan understood the quality of the time they would be spending together on their first weekend countryside tour of the battlefields of Virginia, which would determine if he would be able to spend other weekends with her.
Familiar with her firsthand experiences with the Spanish Civil War and her interest in Early American history, he had visited the local bookstore near his office, and with the assistance of the highly knowledgeable clerk, spent more than an hour selecting three books set in the period of America’s War of Independence in the 1700s, and the Civil War in the 1800s. He also purchased a large, well detailed foldable map describing the route his itinerary called for the two of them to follow.
Returning to his office, he asked his secretary to hold all calls and reschedule his afternoon meetings. Left alone, he spread the big map out on his desk and began to trace the route he had planned. First, he marked the location of the two country inns where he had made reservations. With the help of the books he had purchased, he marked the locations of the more interesting sites they would be visiting. Next to each mark, he placed two notations. One referenced the book that was the source of the information describing the background and the history of that particular site. The second notation contained the number of the page where the information could be found.
It was late in the afternoon when his work was completed. He wrote a note of explanation, signed it, and asked his secretary to wrap the three books, the map, and place his note into a nicely decorated package and have it sent by special delivery to Mercedes’s apartment in Georgetown.
* * *
SEVERAL DAYS LATER, WHEN HE WAS HELPING HER WITH HER LUGGAGE, he noticed the three books and the map had been placed into what looked like a heavy canvas bag with two sets of heavy leather handles. Watching Jordan take notice of the sack and its contents, Mercedes hastened to say, “Jordan, thank you for your thoughtful gift. I was so pleased you signed your note ‘professor’ and ‘old friend.’ I do not recall anyone taking the time to give me something like this. I will enjoy it, and hope to remember it for a very long time. But I have to warn you, if I appear crabby, I became interested in studying your map and reading about all the sites we will be visiting. That was when I decided to read the entire three books. I’m afraid I haven’t had much sleep. But don’t worry about my falling asleep. Your newest student has a lot of questions!”
* * *
FOR THE NEXT 3 DAYS, THEY TOURED THE COUNTRYSIDE. MERCEDES would take advantage of half their travel time between sites to ask questions about what they had just seen and the other half to inquire about what they were going to see. Each time she would ask a question, she was holding the appropriate book, opened to the proper page.
Jordan enjoyed playing the role of the professor to the curious student. Mercedes was learning to treasure the opportunity to talk about subjects that had nothing to do with her experiences as a model or an actress, nothing that related to her schoolwork or her international casting work. Very simply, she was enjoying the opportunity to discuss subjects of personal interest with a very intelligent and charming friend.
Each time they would stop, she would, with book in hand, lead the way to, through, and around whatever it was they were expected to see. Jordan was struggling to keep up with this long-legged woman who had grown up walking over the hills of Spain. Catching his breath and answering her unending stream of questions was proving to be a delightful challenge.
No matter how interested he appeared in accompanying her as she vigorously walked around each of the sites, he knew that it would be only a question of time before he had to determine if there was an opportunity to reintroduce romance into their relationship. In the next moment, he would pause to think, One wrong statement, and
the entire relationship could disappear like a puff of smoke.
The first evening when they checked into the charming country inn outside of Charlottesville, Jordan was careful to clarify he had reserved two rooms. As he slowly filled out both registration forms, he hoped Mercedes would suggest the second room wouldn’t be necessary. When no suggestion was forthcoming, he was careful to hide his disappointment.
Three days and two long dinner engagements studying America’s early history appeared to have succeeded in creating a new kind of personable bonding between the two very different companions.
Jordan was pleased by how well his idea of touring the old battlefields, the local museums, and restaurants had seemed to please his remarkable young friend.
Mercedes, always impressed with Jordan’s extraordinary knowledge of so many people, events, and American history, felt like she was gaining a very unusual friend.
* * *
DURING A CANDLELIGHT DINNER ON THE LAST NIGHT OF THEIR TRIP, Jordan reached across the table and took both of Mercedes hands into his. Looking directly into her large brown eyes, he introduced the subject he knew not to mention. “Mercedes, I know that there must be more than 25 years’ difference in our ages and that we’ve known each other for only a short time. Nevertheless, I’ve never enjoyed such a wonderful sense of companionship. I find myself not only being attracted to you physically, but it’s been a long time since I have truly enjoyed someone’s company on a personal level. Is there anything I can do to persuade you to allow our relationship to grow to the next level?”
Having sensed his growing interest in her, Mercedes had suspected this moment would eventually occur. After withdrawing her hands, she asked, “Are you asking me if I would be interested in joining you for another onenight stand?”
Unprepared for such a direct response, Jordan found himself in strange territory. After a career of asking the disarming questions, he suddenly found himself at a total loss for words. In a fumbling attempt to respond, he stammered, “Well . . . uh, I guess I’m not sure. I just want to have a more intimate relationship and spend more time with you. No matter how fond of you I have become and how much I treasure your company, I haven’t been able to forget that incredible evening we spent together in Acapulco.”
Not waiting for Mercedes to respond, he nervously continued. “As you have probably guessed, I am a relatively wealthy and powerful man and well connected to some of government’s most powerful and influential official leaders. I enjoy, on a first-name basis, friendships with many of the world’s top industrial leaders. There are many things I could do for you, if you would allow me. I could help you finish law school and live comfortably. I could see to it that after you graduate you would be employed by one of Washington’s leading firms.”
Mercedes was disappointed, but not shocked. In the back of her mind, she had suspected that all along his renewed interest and empathetic talk was nothing more than a smoke screen to advance the possibility of revisiting the relationship they had shared that night in Acapulco.
As prepared as she considered herself to be when and if this unfortunate moment might arise, Mercedes realized she no longer wanted to follow the script she had rehearsed so many times. Jordan, at least not in my eyes, is the enemy; he is a lonely, disillusioned man who needs a friend.
“Jordan, things are not as they might appear. My meeting you in the elevator was part of a carefully orchestrated plan designed to take advantage of our previous relationship to put a sympathetic ear near you. The objective of our plan was to encourage you to talk to an old friend in the hopes, upon reflection, you would decide to remove yourself from your involvement with the members of Manuel’s Club and all the activities it entails. My friends in the Justice Department believe, as upset as the members of Manuel’s Club are regarding their recent disappointments, it will only become a question of time before they will realize they will still need your experiences, skills, and services if they expect to coordinate and implement their present goals and objectives.
“If you were to retire, my friends talk in terms of cutting off the head of the serpent. They are convinced, without your leadership, the coalition of military industrialists will no longer be able to advance their influence into the government, at least not in the short term.”
Jordan sat very still as he listened. The impassive look on his face failed to reflect any reaction or thoughts he had spent a lifetime to conceal. To break the discomforting silence, Mercedes said, “I want to make certain you understand, in the short time we’ve spent together, I have learned to appreciate you as a trusted and good friend. None of the things you have confided in me will ever be repeated. No matter how you regard our relationship, I’ll always think of you as a good friend!”
Jordan put up his hand to interrupt her. “I don’t even care that our meeting wasn’t coincidental. Tell Don whatever you want. If you’ll allow me to simply withdraw my earlier comment, I would be very pleased if we could continue our friendship on its current basis.”
“Jordan, there is a man in my life, and after I finish law school, I hope to work with Natalie to construct an enduring international casting company. I sincerely believe we may have succeeded in accomplishing more than merely finding needed employment for some very deserving people. Once the Hollywood moviemakers come to their senses, I expect transatlantic competitive bidding for the services of the same people Hollywood studios have chosen to threaten. When that day comes, I hope to be in a position to help my clients receive their just due.
“Along the way, I would like to get married, have children, and have to struggle with all the problems young marrieds have to contend with in building a solid relationship, raising children, and pursuing two separate careers, for myself and my spouse.
“Part of the problem of trying to reinvent yourself requires one to really think about these sorts of things. At this time, I am really convinced without achieving that degree of clarity, I wouldn’t feel confident about completing my journey. The one thing about which I am absolutely sure of, my best interests are not served by permitting me to devote the time or temptation of what you are expecting and you deserve. I don’t want to be under the control of a man who feels he can manage my life.”
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING, AS JORDAN WAS PERFORMING HIS EXERCISE routine, he was dreading meeting Mercedes for breakfast. He had no idea what he would say—or what she would say.
Mercedes was already sitting at a small table near the front window when Jordan entered the restaurant. The sun was shining, and the table looked as if it were illuminated by some concealed floodlight. He couldn’t help but notice her smile as he approached. He hoped the next few hours wouldn’t be too difficult.
“Jordan, while I was walking, I was thinking about last night’s conversation. I realize I was very direct—it’s the way I’ve learned to talk to my close friends. I want you to relax; everything is fine. As a matter of fact, I was secretly flattered by your offer. There was a time when your offer of financial security, the pleasure of your company, and the protection of being under your wing might have been very tempting.
“As a token of my sincerity, I want to give you a present.”
She reached over to the chair next to her and picked up a large, square, thin, white box wrapped with a red ribbon and a big red bow. Extending it toward him she said, “Enclosed in this box is the only known copy of a film which was shot the night of our intimate performance. I’m quite certain that Manuel was planning to use it to embarrass me and blackmail you. You will never know how much trouble I have gone to in order to rescue it from his safe. Please accept it as my gift from one friend to another. I strongly suggest you destroy it before it gets both of us in a lot of trouble!”
CHAPTER 45
Tony Garibaldi, a Fellow Dreamer
NEW YORK, NOVEMBER 1949
Tony Garibaldi, Natalie’s old friend and fellow Sentinel, was seated near the center of the long and crowded bar. In her haste to make her
way to the corner table beyond the far end of the bar, where the “regulars” might be seated, she failed to recognize him. Startled by the outstretched arm blocking her way, in panic, she turned toward the unexpected intruder. Just as she was preparing to lodge a protest loud enough to be heard by all the other patrons, she recognized her deeply tanned, handsome, wine-growing friend from the Napa Valley.
Before she could think of anything to say, he asked, “Where the hell have you been? I was beginning to think I had traveled all the way from California to see you and you weren’t here! Do you have any idea how much scotch a man must consume waiting for his ‘important friend’ to make her appearance?”
“You traveled all the way from California to see me? Have you lost your mind? Why would you do a thing like that? How were you able to learn where I was staying? At least, you could have called and warned me you were coming.”
“And spoil the surprise or hear you say no to a question I have been composing for a very long time? That is a chance I didn’t want to risk. Now, young lady, if you have a few minutes, there is something I have come 3,000 miles to ask you. If you would be kind enough to join me at that vacant table over there, there is something we need to discuss.”
Excited to tell Tony about all the exciting things that had been occurring in her life, the instinctive actress could feel Tony’s intensity and understood whatever had motivated him to come 3,000 miles must be very serious. Waiting for their ordered drinks to arrive, she cleared her mind, and watched her normally quiet friend wrestle with his thoughts.
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