I really didn’t know who John Eagan was, but Bill Stanley used to work for Bank of America, and Susan Weber worked for American-Asian Investment Corporation, and Marc Goodman, the military attaché, was actually Military Intelligence, and Colonel Mang was an Immigration cop, and Paul Brenner was a tourist. I should write all this down.
In any case, I got my message across, and at midnight, I’d see what their problem was.
I got another Scotch and looked around for my date. A tall, slim, good-looking woman in an evening dress came up to me and asked, “Are you looking for someone?”
I replied, “I’ve been looking for you all my life.”
She smiled and put out her hand. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Jane Blake.”
I suddenly recognized her face. I cleared my throat and said, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry—”
She smiled again. “That’s all right. I’m totally ignored when Ed is in the room. Or in the garden. Or anywhere.”
“I can’t imagine why.”
She smiled and said, “Let me be very bold. Everyone wants to know who you are.”
Finally, a James Bond moment. I said, “You mean, why am I dressed in dirty jeans and haven’t shaved recently?”
She laughed. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Well, Mrs. Blake, I could be the Count of Monte Cristo returning from prison. But my name is Paul Brenner, and I’ve just come from a remote village called Ban Hin, where I needed to find a man named Tran Van Vinh.” I looked at her, but she showed absolutely no sign that this meant anything to her.
She asked me, “Why did you have to find this man?”
“It goes back to the war, and I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”
“Oh, that sounds intriguing.”
“It was.”
“And who is that woman with you?”
“Susan Weber. My guide and interpreter. She speaks fluent Vietnamese. Lives in Saigon.”
“Oh, this is mysterious.” She smiled. “And romantic.”
“We’re just friends.”
“Well, I think you’re looking for your friend. She’s over there, near the pool.” She informed me, “No one even came close to guessing who you were. Ed thought you were a famous actor. They dress so badly. Most of us thought you’d lost a bet, or came dressed like that on a dare.”
“Actually, I did come on a dare. Good luck to your husband with the nomination.”
She smiled, nodded, and moved off to spread the news. I hope she wasn’t measuring for drapes in the White House.
I walked toward the pool where I spotted the woman I’d really been looking for all my life. She was talking to her old lover, Bill Stanley, who could possibly be pissed at me for stealing his girlfriend, though he should thank me.
They both saw me coming and stopped their conversation and stood there with their drinks as I approached. I love this shit.
I got within speaking distance and said, “Am I interrupting?”
Susan replied, “No. Paul, you remember Bill Stanley.”
I put out my hand and he took it. I asked him, “How are things at the bank?”
He didn’t reply, and he wasn’t smiling at me.
Dapper Bill was dressed in a dark blue tropical wool suit, which had undoubtedly been tailor-made for him in Saigon, with an extra short trouser rise to fit snugly against his undersized genitalia.
Susan said to me, “I was just telling Bill about our run-ins with Colonel Mang.”
Bill spoke for the first time and said, “I’ve researched this man, and you’re lucky to be alive.”
I told him, “If you’d researched me, you’d know that it’s Colonel Mang who’s lucky to be alive.”
Bill didn’t seem impressed with my macho moment.
I informed him, “Mang thinks he knows you, too. He told me you were the CIA station chief in Saigon. Can you imagine that?”
Again, Bill had nothing to say, but at least Susan was covered regarding how I knew Bill was CIA.
So, we all stood there awhile in a moment of awkward silence. I wondered if Susan felt uncomfortable standing between two men who she’d recently slept with. She looked composed, so maybe this had been addressed in a Junior League meeting. She said, “Paul, Bill tells me you’re invited to a meeting here tonight. He asked me to join you. I think this would be a good idea.”
I said to Bill, “As I just told John Eagan and as he will tell you, I’m not at liberty to discuss anything with you, the CIA, Military Intelligence, the FBI, or anyone here. This is still a CID homicide investigation, so you can’t change the rules or the players.”
He replied, “You can and you will discuss this if ordered to by your boss, or by a proper higher authority.”
I didn’t like his tone of voice, but to be nice, I said, “If and when my orders change, I’ll follow them. However, I’m a civilian, and I reserve the right to pick the time and place of my debriefing. And it’s sure not here.”
Bill Stanley looked at me and said, “It would be a good idea for you to come to this meeting since we’ll be discussing your exit from the country. You don’t have to say any more than you want to say.”
“Goes without saying.” This was a diplomatic reception, and I was trying to be diplomatic, but this is not my strong point, and I asked Bill, “What were you thinking?”
“Excuse me?”
“What were you thinking when you teamed up your girlfriend with me to go on a dangerous mission?”
He seemed to be thinking about what he was thinking. He cleared his throat and said, “Sometimes, Mr. Brenner, matters of national security take precedence over personal considerations.”
“Sometimes. And if this is one of those times, then you shouldn’t have any gripes about what happened.”
He didn’t like that and replied, “To be honest with you, this was not my idea.”
I didn’t bother to ask him whose idea it was, though I said, “You could have said no.”
He was seething, but said nothing.
I continued, “Though that wouldn’t be a good career move.”
Bill may have thought I was implying that he was an ambitious company man who would pimp his girlfriend to advance his career. He remained politely silent, however, the way people do when they’re speaking to someone with a terminal condition.
Susan thought it was time to change the subject and said, “Paul, I told Bill that we did discover the identity of the murdered lieutenant, but that we still can’t determine the identity of the murderer.”
“Did Bill believe that?”
Bill answered, “No, Bill did not believe that.”
I said to Susan, “Bill doesn’t believe that.”
Susan said, “Well, it’s the truth.” She continued, “I told Bill we’d found Tran Van Vinh, but that we’d decided not to chance carrying those things with us, so we hid everything.”
Our eyes met for a half a second, and I looked at Bill to see his reaction, but Bill was as inscrutable as Colonel Mang.
I really didn’t know if Susan had said this, because Susan says lots of things. She knew the identity of the murder suspect all along, and Bill knew that, so she was trying to protect me, which was nice, but it wasn’t going to play. I said to Bill, “Actually, it would be a good idea if the Vice President attended this midnight meeting.”
Bill looked at me a long time before informing me, “The Vice President has no interest in a murder investigation.”
“He may be interested in this one. Tell his staff that it’s in his best interest to be there.”
Bill reminded me, “You have signed various statements relating to national security and official secrets. Regardless of your present status, they are all still binding.”
“I also swore to defend the Constitution.”