The Spycatcher Caper
Page 8
“He'll see you now,” the aide said, nodding toward the colonel's door.
“Good morning, sir.”
“So it would seem, DeWitt. At ease.” The colonel finished jotting down some notes and then looked up.” I called you here to give orders for your next assignment.”
“Yes, sir, I was hoping to be transferred, not of course because I haven't been happy with the way you've treated me, but…”
“Skip the ass-kissing, private. You are to remain where you are. It's not that the Army or I necessarily need you or your services, but my immediate superior insists. Your job will be the same, and you'll continue to reside with the Chows, who I'm sure will be pleased as hell to have your company.
“Now before I dismiss you, let me ask if you know anything more about Count Putzendorff. It seems that someone shot him in the back and killed him yesterday. A single witness heard the shot and the assailant screaming something that sounded like it was Italian. Know anything about this?”
A light flickered in DeWitt's brain, but he pleaded ignorance in the matter.
“No big loss,” the colonel said. “We were closing in on him anyway. But it's too bad that I—er, we—can't take the credit for apprehending this Nazi sympathizer. Now we can't question him about those parties he threw and who attended them, as well as other traitors he may have been associating with. Okay, private, let us know if you hear anything we should know. Dismissed.”
Outside the weather provided a deliciously warm early June day; inside DeWitt remained the chill of impending death. On his way back to the Chows' he passed Sammy Burpp's diner, which, surprisingly, was open for business. Curious, he entered and saw Ping Pong seated at the cash register. “I'm new boss here. You want menu?”
“The king is dead, long live the king.” DeWitt remembered the quote from somewhere, while acknowledging to himself that neither Sammy nor Ping Pong was royalty.
When he returned to the house, he was surprised to see that Lotus Blossom and Feng Shui were not engaged in what seemed their eternal game of Mah Jongg. “Good morning, soldier boy. I have good news and bad news. First the bad news,” said Mrs. Chow. “The man we play Mah Jongg with, he plenty sick. But there is good news. We learn that you be with us for long time, so we teach you how to play. You like that, soldier boy?”
DeWitt smiled weakly.
“And soldier boy,” Lotus Blossom said as she looked to see that no one was within earshot, “Feng Shui say you plenty cute, specially for a round eye. She have no boyfriend, so you can be her boyfriend. You like that?”
DeWitt offered a second weak smile and headed upstairs for his room, where he found the door unlocked, probably because, with so much on his mind, he had forgotten to lock it. Once inside, he smelled something familiar and unpleasant, and saw several felines sitting on his suitcase. He swore, they purred.
It had been that kind of day. Only later would his gloom lighten when he heard on the radio that the U.S. Navy had won a major battle at Midway and had dealt the Japanese Navy a serious defeat that, in retrospect, reversed the tide of fortune in the Pacific War.
Dick wondered if they would give him his medal now.
Disclaimer
All characters in this novel are fictional with the exception of Lieutenant General John L. DeWitt (1880-1962), who was in charge of the Western Defense Command during World War II. A special act of Congress promoted him to full general in 1954.
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