I suddenly didn’t know my left from my right. I’d tried to stammer out something while beginning to salute, then finally got my right hand in the right place when I saw he wanted to shake hands. I tried not to sound like the jerk I felt.
“Uncle… I mean General…,” I managed to say. OK, so maybe I should have tried harder.
Ike laughed, and immediately put me at ease. “Sit down, son. We won’t dwell on military protocol today.” He sat in a leather chair and motioned for the two of us to seats opposite him, then he lit a cigarette.
“So how are your folks, William? It’s been a few years.”
“Fine, sir. Mother sends her regards.”
Ike inhaled and then looked at Harding. “You know, Major, William was a detective with the Boston Police Department before joining us.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve seen his file.”
“There’s one thing about family,” Ike continued. “A relation, even a distant one, is always bound to you. There’s no escaping it. It could be a drunken brother-in-law or a crazy cousin or even a rich uncle. When they show up at the door, they’re one of yours.”
“We don’t get many rich uncles in South Boston, General, but I know what you mean. Family is family.”
“Yes, it is.” He nodded, paused, and looked straight at me. “William, we’re trying to build a family here. An Anglo-American family that will fight together and win this war. A family that will stick together, through thick and thin. To do that, I’ve got to make sure that everyone is pulling his own weight and putting the family first.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, General.” I didn’t want to sound stupid, but I wasn’t too proud to ask a dumb question.
“William, I’ve got a big job here. I’ve got to get the British, who have been fighting this war alone and barely holding on, to work with the Americans, who haven’t yet been touched by the war, and to take us seriously. I’ve got to get the Americans to listen and learn from them, instead of coming on like gangbusters. Pretty soon, there will be more Yank soldiers, planes, and ships over here than British. Before that happens, we’ve got to get everything working smoothly between us. If we don’t, it could be our greatest weakness. Disunity.”
He stopped and pulled on his cigarette deeply, letting the smoke out with a sigh as if he was himself daunted by the task. He looked at me and smiled that friendly warm grin of his.
“So, I guess you’re wondering what that has to do with you.”
I nodded.
Harding spoke up. “Frankly, sir, I’ve been wondering that myself.” Uncle Ike lost the smile and looked at him as if he were squinting down the rear sight of a rifle.
“Major, I am not the type of man to grant a post to a family member as an act of nepotism.”
Harding looked a little flustered at this rebuke. Since family patronage had been the thing that got me this far in life, I wondered what was wrong with it.
“William brings something special to us, Major. He is a dedicated police detective, decorated for bravery. Sooner or later, I am going to need someone who can handle potentially delicate investigations. Anytime this many people are brought together in an enterprise, with so much bounty in supplies and multiple chains of command, there are bound to be a few rotten apples.”
“For the good of the family, they need to be removed, quietly.” I surprised myself with this, but I knew exactly what he meant.
“Exactly, William! We need to be sure the top officers running this war are as pure as Caesar’s wife. If any of them get into the black market or something worse, the publicity could lead to divisions within our ranks. It would only help the Germans.”
“So my job is to hush things up?”
Ike raised his eyebrows and glanced at Harding. “Well, no, William,” Ike said, crushing out his cigarette in a glass ashtray mounded with ashes and butts. “Things will have to be handled discreetly, but when the need arises, we will deal with anyone who violates the military code of justice or the laws of Great Britain. No one’s going to get away with murder. I just don’t want them tried in the Old Bailey for the world to see, that’s all.”
“How do I fit in, sir?” Harding leaned forward and I could see he was hoping to be let off the hook.
“I hope I won’t be utilizing William’s talents full-time. He’ll need some other work to do to keep himself busy and useful. He can act as your aide.” I saw astonishment, followed by resignation, flicker across Harding’s face and vanish, buried under that West Point facade that never seemed to relax.
“Thank you, General.” With that, I knew Harding could have a second career as a diplomat.
“You’re heading off to that briefing with the Norwegians on Monday. Take William along and let him get the feel of things, get to know people. OK?”
Uncle Ike made it seem like a question, as if Harding would be doing him a favor.
“I’m sure he’ll be a great help, General.”
Ike nodded and the interview was apparently over. As we got up, he took me by the arm and walked me over to the window. Harding closed the door behind him and it was just Uncle Ike and me in the room. From where we stood, we could see all of Grosvenor Square. Some buildings were bomb damaged; the front of one was gone, revealing couches, beds, and tables in the rooms, like a giant dollhouse. He pointed to an intact structure on the opposite corner.
“John Adams, our second president, lived right there when he was ambassador to Great Britain. Just over that way a few blocks is Buckingham Palace and beyond that the Houses of Parliament. There are many ties that bind us to the English, William. We will have to rely on these bonds to get us through this war. They must be strengthened. And protected.”
I had remembered Uncle Ike as a guy always ready with a grin. Now he looked like somebody else. Somebody with a grim job ahead of him. Somebody who needed a trusted hand at his side. I trembled a little, realizing that he thought that was me. I wanted to tell him I was the wrong guy, that I was a fake and a cheater. It was the first time in my life I ever felt ashamed of anything, but what could I say? That the Boyles were all talk and no action? His eyes were on me again, and he spoke in a low voice.
“William, I want you to know that I picked you for this job for two reasons. First, you’re a trained detective. Second, you’re family, and I’ve always believed in trusting family.”
He lit another cigarette and drew on it heavily.
“Can you do this for me, William? And for your country?”
It must have been the lack of sleep. There was something solitary and lonely about Uncle Ike standing there, looking out over the ruined buildings and John Adams’s ghost, maybe wondering if he could handle it all. I didn’t feel sorry for him. At that moment, I just wanted to help him, more than anything else. If I had been more rested, I would’ve thought to ask what it was I’d get out of it. But I didn’t.
“Sure, Uncle Ike. You can count on me,” was what I said.
CHAPTER THREE
As I left Uncle Ike’s office I asked a passing PFC where I could find Second Officer Daphne Seaton. He pointed toward a hallway and told me to go one flight down. The stairway emptied into one large room with about a dozen desks and countless file cabinets. Maps covered any spare wall space, and the paint job was a fresh coat of army green, with some brown trim for flair. I saw Harding standing next to one of the desks, talking with Daphne. He looked up, crooked his thumb in my direction, and without another word walked away in the opposite direction. I threaded my way between desks and a sea of uniforms, American, British, army, navy, all busy moving lots of paperwork around, the walls echoing with a constant murmur of low voices and the shuffling of files. A telephone rang and I had to dodge an RAF officer as he ran to grab it. I put on my best smile as I approached Daphne’s desk.
“Do you have time to show me around, Second Officer Seaton?” I asked.