"Tell me about the attractive female who's been asking about him," Dunn said.
"Over there," Paul said, chuckling and nodding his head toward a table in the corner of the room. It was occupied by two attractive women and six attentive Naval officers, all of whom wore wings of gold.
The taller of the two women at that moment waved, then stood up. Her hair was dark, and red.
"She is not what she appears to be, Bill," Pick said. "Or, phrased another way, she does not deliver what she appears to be offering."
The bartender chuckled. "Don't tell me you struck out with her, Pick? That's hard to believe."
"She ruined my batting average, if you have to know. And God knows, I gave it the old school try."
"What's her name?" Dunn asked as the redhead made her way to the bar.
"Alexandra, after the Virgin Princess of Constantinople," Pick said.
"Pick," Alexandra said, giving him her cheek to kiss. "I heard you were in town. You could have called me."
"Just passing through," Pick said.
"I'm Bill Dunn."
"Hello," Alexandra said, and looked at him closely.
"Bill, this is Alexandra Spears, as in spears through the heart."
"That's not kind, Pick," Alexandra said.
"Alexandra, do you believe in love at first sight?" Bill Dunn asked.
"Does your mother know you're out, little boy?" Alexandra replied.
"Watch it, Alex," Pick said. "He's a friend of mine."
"Sorry," Alexandra said. "We were talking about why you didn't call me."
"I told you. We're just passing through town. And obviously, you're not hurting for company. If I thought you were sitting at home, all alone, just waiting for the phone to ring, I might have called. Did you pick up those sailors in here, or bring them with you?"
"I'd forgotten what a sonofabitch you can be, Pick," she replied. "But to answer your question, Bitsy and I just stopped in for a drink on our way to Jack and Marjorie's, and they offered to buy us a drink."
"Bitsy is the blonde offering false hope to the swabbie?"
"Bitsy is Bitsy Thomas, Pick. You know her."
He shook his head, no.
"We were about to leave, as a matter of fact. Why don't you come with us? I know Jack and Marjorie would love to see you."
"I'll pass, thank you," Pick said.
"I'd like to go," Bill Dunn said.
"No, you wouldn't," Pick said.
"Yes, I would," Bill Dunn replied. "I think I'm in love."
"You're not old enough to be in love," Alexandra said, looking hard at him again. "Oh, come on, Pick. It'll be fun."
"Please, Sir," Bill Dunn said.
"How are we going to get Whatsername..."
"Bitsy," Alexandra furnished.
"... away from the Navy?"
"I told you, they only bought us a drink," Alexandra said.
"They apparently feel there's more to it than that," Pick said. "The Navy is throwing menacing looks over here. And there are six of them, and only two of us."
"I'll go over and tell them we're in love," Bill Dunn said. "They're supposed to be gentlemen; they'll understand."
"No, you won't!" Alexandra said. "What you're going to do, sonny boy, is go to the garage and wait for us. Then I will leave, and when Bitsy sees that I'm gone, she'll get the message. And when she leaves, then Pick can."
"You're pretty good at this sort of thing, aren't you?" Pick asked.
"I'd really like to, Sir," Bill Dunn said, making it a plaintive request.
"Oh, Christ!"
"I don't know how well you know this guy," Alexandra said to Bill Dunn, "but he really is not a very nice person."
"Run along, Lieutenant," Pick said. "I suppose we must do what we can to keep up the morale of the home front."
"Yes, Sir," Bill Dunn said.
When he was out of earshot, Alexandra looked at Pickering.
"Pick, that's just a boy. You don't mean to tell me that the Marines are really going to send him off to the war?"
"You want a straight answer, Alex? Or are you just idly curious?"
"I want a straight answer."
"He is just a boy. I would be surprised if he's ever... had a woman. In the biblical sense. But yes, war is war, and The Corps will inevitably, sooner or later-almost certainly sooner-send him to the war."
"Is he really a pilot? For that matter, are you?"
"Yes, he is. We are. And I'm sure, when the time comes, that Billy Dunn will do his best."
"He's so young," Alexandra said. "He looks so... vulnerable."
"Do me a favor, Alex, and don't play around with his emotions."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You know damned well what I mean. The way you played around with me."
"Screw you, Pick," Alexandra said. "You got what you deserved. I'll see you in the garage."
She walked out of the bar. Two minutes later Bitsy Thomas left the six Naval Aviators at the table and left the bar. The Naval Aviators stared unpleasantly at Pickering for a minute or two until he finished his drink and left the bar.
[FIVE]
"Edgewater"
Malibu, California
1830 Hours 24 October 1942
Major Homer C. Dillon, USMCR, was not in a very good mood as he turned off the coast highway onto the access road between the highway and the houses that lined the beach. For one thing, the goddamned car was acting up.
You 'd think if you paid nearly four thousand dollars for the sonofabitch and it wasn't even a year old, that you could expect to drive the sonofabitch back and forth to San Diego with all eight cylinders firing and the goddamned roof mechanism working.
Dillon drove a yellow 1942 Packard 120 Victoria-the big-engine and long-wheel-base Packard with a special convertible body by Darrin. The Darrin body meant some pretty details: At the window line, for instance, the doors had a little dip in them, so you could rest your elbow there. All this cost a full thousand, maybe twelve hundred, dollars more than the ordinary "big" Packard convertible. And initially he was very pleased with it.