Women can be such bitches,she thought, getting what they want and not caring a whit how much they hurt a nice kid like Steve Koffler.
(Seven)
U.S. Navy Element
U.S. Army General Hospital
Melbourne, Australia
1705 Hours 6 June 1942
Soon after they met, Commander Charles E. Whaley, M.D., USNR, told Ensign Barbara T. Cotter, NC, USNR, that he had given up a lucrative practice of psychiatry in Grosse Point Hills, Michigan, and entered the Naval Service in order to treat the mental disorders of servicemen who had been unable to cope with the stress of the battlefield. He was happy to do so.
But he had not entered the Naval Service, he went on to tell Ensign Cotter, to administer to the minor aches and pains of the Naval brass gathered around the headquarters of the Commander-in-Chief, Southwest Pacific, General Douglas MacArthur, and especially not to cater to their grossly overdeveloped sense of medical self-protection. And he had absolutely no intention of doing so.
He specifically told Ensign Cotter, who was in his eyes an unusually nice and bright kid, that he had no intention of making a goddamned house call to the "residence" of some Navy brass hat named Pickering. This guy had apparently heard somewhere of a battery of rare tropical diseases. Since, for some half-assed reason, he felt threatened by those diseases, he wanted himself immunized against them. At his quarters.
"I think I know where this goddamn thing started, Barbara," Dr. Whaley said. "I have never even seen a case of any of these things-and I interned and did my residency in Los Angeles, where you see all sorts of strange things-but this morning there was a Marine officer in here, armed with a buck slip from an admiral on MacArthur’s staff, ordering that he be immediately immunized against them. They had to get the stuff from the Australians to give it to him.
"Then I get a message-if I’d been here to take the call, I would have told him what I thought-from this Captain Pickering, ordering me to come to his residence prepared to give the same series of shots to at least one other person. What I think happened is that this sonofabitch Pickering heard about the Marine and decided he wasn’t going to take the risk of coming down with something like this himself. No, Sir. I mean, why should he? I mean, after all, here he is, far from the Army-Navy Club in Washington, risking his life as a member of MacArthur’s palace guard."
Barbara chuckled.
"What would you like me to do, Doctor?"
"If I go over there, Barbara, I’m liable to forget that I’m an officer and a gentleman and tell this Pickering character what I think of him specifically and the Naval Service generally. So, by the power vested in me by the Naval Service, Ensign Cotter, I order you to proceed forthwith to"-he handed her an interoffice memorandum-"the address hereon, and immunize this officer by injection. See if you can find a dull needle. A large one. And it is my professional medical judgment that you should inject the patient in his gluteus maximus."
"Aye, aye, Sir," Ensign Cotter replied.
"And go by ambulance," Commander Charles E. Whaley, M.D., USNR, added.
"Ambulance?"
"With a little bit of luck, Captain Pickering will inquire about the ambulance. Then you will tell him that the immunizations sometimes produce terrible side effects," Dr. Whaley said, pleased with himself. "And that the ambulance is just a precaution."
"You’re serious?" Barbara chuckled.
"You bet your ass I am," Commander Whaley said.
(Eight)
The Elms
Dandenong, Victoria, Australia
1755 Hours 6 June 1942
When Barbara Cotter saw The Elms, she was glad that Dr. Whaley had sent her and not come himself. This Captain Pickering, whoever he was, seemed one more proof that Karl Marx might have been on to something when he denounced the over-accumulation of capital in the hands of the privileged few. Navy captains, for rank hath its privileges, lived well. But not this well. Dr. Whaley could have gotten himself in deep trouble, letting his Irish temper loose at this Navy brass hat.
A middle-aged woman opened the door.
"Hello," Mrs. Hortense Cavendish said with a smile. "May I help you?"
"I’m Ensign Cotter, to see Captain Pickering. I’m from the hospital."
"Are you a doctor?"
"I’m a nurse," Barbara said.
"I think he was expecting a doctor," Mrs. Cavendish said. "But please come in, I’ll tell him you’re here."
She left Barbara waiting in the foyer and disappeared down a corridor. A moment later a man appeared and walked up to her. He was in his shirtsleeves and wearing suspenders. And his collar was open and his tie pulled down. He held a drink in his hand.
Barbara was prepared to despise him as a palace-guard brass hat with an exaggerated opinion of his own importance-and with what Dr. Whaley had so cleverly described as "an overdeveloped sense of medical self-protection."
"Hello," Pickering said. "I’m Fleming Pickering. I was rather expecting Commander Whaley, but you’re much prettier."
"Sir, I’m Ensign Cotter."
"I’m very pleased to meet you," he said. "We saw the ambulance. What’s that all about? Is the Navy again suffering from crossed signals?"
"Sir, I’m here to administer certain injections," Barbara said. "There is a chance of a reaction to them. The ambulance is a precaution."
"Well, the first stickee seems to be doing fine," Pickering said. "We’re hoping that your intended target will show up momentarily. I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait until he does."
"Sir?"
"You’re here to immunize Corporal Koffler," Pickering said. "At the moment, we don’t know where he is. You’ll have to wait until he shows up. If that’s going to pose a problem for you at the hospital, I’ll call and explain the situation. This is rather important."
"I was under the impression the immunizations were intended for you, Captain."
"Oh, no," Pickering said, and smiled. "I suspected crossed signals. Shall I call the hospital and straighten things out?"
"If I’m going to have to stay, I’d better call, Sir," Barbara said.
"The phone’s right over there," Pickering said, pointing to a narrow table against the foyer wall. "If you run into any trouble, let me know. Sometimes the Regular Navy is a bit dense between the ears."
She looked at him in shock.
"Between us amateurs, of course," Pickering smiled. "I presume you’re a fellow amateur?"
"I’m a reservist, Sir, if that’s what you mean."
"I was sure of it," Pickering said. "When you’re through on the phone, please come in the sitting room." He pointed to it.
"Yes, Sir," Barbara said.
"Oh, Barbara," Dr. Whaley said when she called him at his quarters. "I hope you’re calling because you’re lost."
"Excuse me?"
"You found The Elms without any trouble?"
"Yes, Sir. I’m here now. I’ve just met Captain Pickering."
"How did that go?"
"It’s not what you thought, Doctor."