As the peacemaker, Fitzhugh knew, he himself would return home in triumph, revealed as the one man who had been right all along. After that his call to his country’s highest office would be all but automatic. Solomon Fitzhugh, President of the United States. It had a fine ring to it, a ring of rightness.
Only one thing troubled him after that. When he had seen the premier for the first time he had hesitated to bring up the conspicuous anti-Semitic policies of his government — it had been at that time an internal matter affecting the premier’s country only and an intrusion by an outsider might have destroyed the fine rapport which had been established.
The singling out of the Jews worried Fitzhugh. If it went on too long it could have serious consequences. On his next conference with the premier, whether it would be slightly awkward or not, he would have to bring it up. His only son was dating a Jewish girl, and while a marriage undoubtedly would not take place, she was a very nice young person, well-behaved, and deserved his protection.
For the past several weeks Hewlitt had had a growing sense of unreality. The Billiken in his mentality told him that there was no one named Zalinsky in the White House — that no such person would even be admitted to the grounds, and that the cloak and dagger atmosphere into which he had been casually wandering was a celluloid creation as unreal as the monsters in an amusement park go-cart ride.
But the fact remained that he was in a very real house, surrounded by actual people despite their difference in ethnic background, and that a code word he had been anxious to hear had just been spoken to him with unmistakable clarity.
The pieces were all there — it was the total that came out wrong.
Asher was an ancient name, one of the twelve tribes of Israel, but it was not common. The man before him was Asher, he had announced that, but he did not fit the image of Asher as he should have been.
Hewlitt looked at his glass to see how much he had drunk of his cocktail. “That’s an unusual name,” he said, sparring for time and more data.
“I thought that you might have heard it before,” Frank answered.
Hewlitt saw the opening and took it. “I have, but I’m trying to remember where.”
Frank took his time, sipping his drink with apparent concern. “Maybe from Major Landers,” he said.
That, Hewlitt knew, was conclusive. That fact that he had known Frank for more than two years made it difficult to accept him in this new light; by logic and rights it should have been someone who normally would have been at a reasonably important echelon of the government.
“Forgive me,” he said. “You surprised me, that’s all.”
Frank smiled. “Understood, Mr. Hewlitt, I don’t blame you a bit. Take your time if you’d like.”
“How did all this come about?” Hewlitt asked.
“Well, you remember my telling you that I had been a Marine once. I was well treated in the service and I liked the work. The way the cards came out I was assigned to intelligence and they found out that even if I didn’t have much brains, at least I could keep my mouth shut.”
He stopped to wave his glass in greeting at a newcomer who had just entered the room, then went back to his topic.
“It’s a funny thing about cabdrivers, people almost never pay them any attention. They don’t look at them, they don’t remember their names, and sometimes they don’t even know that they’re there. And they always let you know where they’re going, they have to do that. Remember that I told you too how people sometimes talk to cabdrivers when they’re alone and ask them all sorts of things. An’ one very important thing: a cabby in his hack can be anywhere at almost any time without people wonderin’. Night or day, a guy driving a cab isn’t questioned; maybe he’s on a call, or just dropped off a fare someplace. An’ if he shows up when you want a ride, you don’t ask him how he came to be there.”
“Let me get this straight,” Hewlitt said. “Are you a real taxi driver or aren’t you? If not, you had me fooled.”
“Oh, I’m real enough all right as far as it goes. When I’m not needed I hack like everybody else. But when they want me, I’m on call.”
“How do you manage to pick up the right passengers, for example…”
Frank took a little more of his drink. “I don’t think we need to get into all o’ that,” he said. “I’ll give you a for instance: suppose I’m to pick up a certain guy at the Mayflower. A couple of the other guys are there too, just in case. I get in line, but not too far forward. Then just before the subject comes out, some of our people step up and take the hacks ahead of me. That’s one way. But like I said, you don’t need to worry about all that. The point is, there’s work’to be done now.”
Hewlitt took a long pull at his own drink. “Do you believe Davy’s statement that this house is completely safe?” he asked.
“Bank on it, Davy is one of the boys — which is one reason you’re here tonight. An’ this isn’t an ordinary house — it belongs to the Agency. It’s been fixed up with a lot of hidden equipment so that if anyone monkeys with it, we know it right away.”
“Does Davy actually live here?”
“Yep, and he makes sure that things are in order. Like me he’s got protective coloration, so not many people are willing to believe that he’s bright. You can take it from me that he is.”
Hewlitt felt a developing sense of interest, even excitement. He believed what he had been told, and he had heard enough to be convinced that Frank was all he claimed to be. He had wanted action; now there were greatly improved prospects of getting it. He too had always liked Frank; already he began to feel a certain kinship with him despite the differences in their backgrounds.
“What do I do now?” he asked.
“I was just comin’ to that,” Frank said. ‘I’ve got some orders for you. From up above. Major Landers told you that there’s an organization.”
“Yes, but for a while I wondered about it.”
“You can stop wonderin’. There’s a real good one and it’s run by pros; they know exactly what they’re doin’. Are you ready?”
“Go.”
“All right. First off, you aren’t to do anything on your own, no matter how good it looks to you at the time. Bob Landers did and he fell inta a trap. You know what happened.”
“Do you know what it was?”
“Right now, no, but we found out that he walked into a setup. So don’t do nothin’ on your own, nothin’ at all. Until you get the word from me.”
“If anything happens to you?”
“You’ll be contacted. And when it’s the right guy, you’ll know for sure. If there’s any doubt, any at all, don’t bite.”
“O.K.”
“Next, no matter how good somebody looks, don’t do any recruiting, leave that to us; most of the people we want are already picked and set up. Some of ’em know it; some don’t yet.”
“What can I do?”
“Several things. First, keep datin’ Barbara — that’s important. An’ it shouldn’t be too hard to take.”
“Not at all.”
“Good enough, she’s a real smart girl. What we want you most for right now is a listenin’ post. You got that new job right next to Mr. Z and we want to keep you there. So keep your nose real clean; do what he says. Sure as hell they’re goin’ to push somethin’ under your nose; don’t try to run with the ball, but don’t play stupid either, ’cause they know you aren’t. Just try to imagine that you’re strictly on your own, against them, but a little scared because of the Landers thing. If you play stupid, they’ll be on to you right then.”