Beneath Gray Skies (36 page)

“Oh?”

“In fact, we all assumed that it was going to happen fairly soon.”

“Were they engaged, then?”

“Certainly there was some sort of understanding between them, but I don’t think it had been formalized in any way.” Gatt scratched his chin thoughtfully. “And then you showed up with young Christopher, and John seemed to be completely out of the running.”

“
C’est la vie,
” said Dowling. “Well, you win some, and you lose some, as they say.”

“In confidence, I can tell you that John was very unhappy about it. He came round to our house one evening and used some very ugly expressions, which I won’t repeat, about the Negro race in general and Christopher in particular.” Dowling sat quietly, waiting for more, and Gatt continued. “There were some nasty words spoken about you as well, I have to say.”

“Well, I’d always got the impression that he wasn’t exactly in raptures having the Limeys come in and directing things.”

“That, sir, is an excellent example of the famous British understatement. John was livid. Flaming mad. First you Limeys come in and steal his job from him, and then, to make matters worse, you steal his girl. Well, not you, but the guy you brought along with you. And he’s colored, which I can tell you didn’t go down too well.”

“Well, dash it, Vernon, you can’t blame me for all of this. The girl’s of age, after all, and I tried to keep Christopher from doing anything stupid.”

“Henry, Henry,” Gatt placated him. “I’m not blaming you for a darn thing. If you want my honest opinion, I’m glad as heck that you guys are with us on our side, and kicking us into some sort of useful life. It’s John who’s the sorehead, not me.”

A thought struck Henry. “Vernon, don’t take this the wrong way, but would John Summers be sore enough to betray Brian to the Confederates?”

“That’s impossible. I put that one out to grass as soon as it entered my mind. The man’s a product of a fine old Yankee family. His father is a State senator, and his grandfather on one side was a US Senator and the grandfather on the other side was a Rear-Admiral in the Navy. I’ve known John for over twelve years now. A little hasty, but that’s his only fault. I think you’re wrong there, Henry.”

“I hope I am wrong, Vernon, but you do have a man with a motive and the means to do it.”

“Granted he has the means, but would a man betray his country over a woman?”

“It’s happened before over more trivial matters. I have a feeling that it’s not the whole story. Have you any idea what John Summers’s financial position is?”

“No, not really. I guess he’s quite well off. He gets a decent salary from his job, and there’s a lot of family money, some of which is probably already his, and the rest will come to him soon, I reckon.”

“Can you check?” Henry Dowling wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. He was aware that he must seem somewhat over-excited, and even too insistent, but he had the inner certainty that had preceded his leaps of intuition in the past.

“Not legally,” replied Gatt. “Are you really asking me to look through his bank records? We can’t do that, you know.”

“Even if it exposes your traitor? Young Travers gave a rather graphic account of what you’d like to do to the traitor if you discovered his identity.”

“Darn it, Henry, we have laws about this kind of thing.”

“So do we, my dear fellow. But how do you think we caught that man in the war that I was telling you about at the wedding? We had our suspicions, we got the appropriate permission from our lords and masters, and we toddled round to the fellow’s bank. It’s amazing what the right signature on official paper does to a banker’s soul, and we got what we wanted inside twenty minutes. Don’t you have any kind of system like that?”

“Well, I suppose…”

“Come on, you know you do. And you’re certainly friendly enough with the powers in the land such as Frank Kellogg, aren’t you?” Gatt nodded. “I know what’s eating you. You’re friends with John Summers. You brought him into all of this, didn’t you? And you feel responsible for him, right?”

“Right,” Gatt nodded sadly.

“I understand. Now I’m going to tell you something else about the man who I helped to have shot. He was my cousin. My mother’s sister’s son.”

Gatt exploded in a coughing fit. “But you thought he was innocent at the start, didn’t you?” he said, when he’d recovered the power of speech.

“Oh no. I knew from the beginning that he was guilty. And I liked him as well, you know. We’d grown up quite close as children. Spent holidays at each other’s houses, that sort of thing. A thoroughly likable and pleasant young man. But weak when it came to any kind of gambling. I knew that from when we were at school together. He’d always liked the horses and cards, and he bet far more money than I knew he could afford.”

“But he was your cousin!” protested Gatt. “Couldn’t you have saved him?”

“I didn’t have that kind of influence. In any case, he was a traitor. It was war. If he was in debt there were other ways for him to get his way out of the money mess. In any case, Vernon, the point of my little story is not to cast me as a villain, but to help you realize that this is a game for professionals. My friend’s probably getting his balls smashed to pulp in Richmond right now, if they haven’t beaten him to death already, and you mince around all high and mighty with some kind of—what’s your word? candy-ass principles.”

“Ouch. What a way you have with words, Henry. If we investigate John’s finances and his banks and we don’t find anything suspicious, will that satisfy you?”

“I suppose it will have to, since you’re not going to sweat him under the bright lights. It’s a start, put it that way.”

“
What danger of assassins could there possibly be to Hitler and the rest of them on board an airship?”

I
t was early in the morning. Brian didn’t know the exact time. He’d been working for several hours on the latest message from Henry Dowling contained in Miss Justin’s account of the preparations for the wedding.

He passed the piece of paper containing the decoded message to the other two men who had just joined him in the room. “That’s all there is, I’m afraid. Sorry.”

“So, even after all your magic tricks, we’re left with very little?” complained Vickers.

“It looks like it. Just a vague suggestion to blow up the shed without the airship in it. Well, that’s not going to get rid of Hitler or Jeff Davis, is it?”

“So we have to shoot down the airship with all the Nazis and the crew on board?” said Vickers.

“It would be the answer, if everyone including the Confederate Cabinet was going to be in it,” pointed out Weisstal. “It’s just going to be the Nazis, as you say. Exactly how were you going to get rid of Davis?” he asked Vickers.

“Our thoughts weren’t very precise on that matter,” admitted Vickers. “We had vague notions of shooting down the airship as it landed and watching the whole of the reception party go up in the explosion.”

“Wrong,” said Brian, shortly. “From what I know of the airships shot down over London, they didn’t explode, they just burned like fury, and the fire was pretty much localized in the gas-bags. Correct, Major?”

“Correct,” confirmed Weisstal. “I thought you’d thought this out a little better,” he complained to Vickers. “This really isn’t going to work out.”

“Well, we could arrest Davis and his Cabinet in the confusion, I suppose.”

“Doesn’t seem an awfully realistic plan, old boy.” Brian stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Quite apart from any other considerations. What time is it, by the way?”

Vickers looked at his watch. “About half-past five. Time we put you back in your cell.” They were in an unused kitchen. Brian had requested a room with running water, a source of heat and a table for his work on the message, and this seemed to be the only available room that met all these requirements. As agreed, Brian had kept the others out of the room while he read his messages, and had cleared everything away before letting them in again.

“Sorry not to be of more use,” said Brian. “By the way, Colonel, is David Slater still working for you?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“Would you let him come and see me? I’d like to talk with him. Maybe play a game of chess.”

“As long as you realize that a guard will be listening to the conversation. There’s no way I can manage it any other way without some suspicion falling on myself.”

“Fine.”

“Okay, I’ll make arrangements for him to visit you some time soon. It probably won’t be for more than an hour. Come on then, prisoners back to their cells. Do you want your shaving tackle and so on?” pointing to the bag in which Brian had repacked all his effects.

“I assume you searched it for dangerous objects? I noticed my razor was missing.”

“Of course. We’ll continue to have you shaved. It might look strange, otherwise.”

-o-

D
avid was let into Brian’s cell some time later that morning. He was carrying a chess set with him.

“Reckon we’re all in a mite of trouble,” he smiled, but there was a worried look to his pinched face.

“Some of us are in more trouble than others, David, old man,” replied Brian. “Look, you told me straight out that you’d never do anything to hurt the Confederacy. And you haven’t done a thing against your country—your only problem is that you got too friendly with the wrong person.” The last sentences were spoken in a slightly raised voice, intended to be heard by the guard standing at the cell door.

“That’s better,” grinned David. “I was kind of missing your British accent. Lewis Levoisin never did seem that right to me.” He pointed to the chess board. “Want a game?”

They set out the pieces. “So now you’re working with Colonel Vickers?” asked Brian. “Don’t you miss the airship handling?”

“Kind of,” replied David. “But Colonel Vickers doesn’t seem to be that bad a man. And I’ve been learning all kinds of new things in the last few days that I wouldn’t have found out else.”

“Well, for heaven’s sake, you mustn’t tell me anything. You can see I’m not exactly welcome here, and as you said just now, you’re in more than a mite of trouble just for knowing me.”

David moved his knight, and the game continued.

“You know,” said David after a few more moves, “I sure would prefer it if your pieces were all in one corner so that I could take them all at the same time. You’re spread out all over the board.”

“Well, I’m glad I’m giving you something to think about.”

“Have you met Major Weisstal yet?” asked David.

“No,” Brian lied. “Why should I have done?” He moved his rook. “What did you say just then, David?” he asked.

“Weren’t you listening, then? You just answered me. ‘Have you met Major Weisstal?’ is what I just said to you.”

“No, before that.”

“Can’t rightly recall. Oh yeah. I was saying that it would be easier if all your pieces were in one corner. But it doesn’t matter, anyhow. Check, and mate in three.”

“I don’t know why I even bother trying,” said Brian, resigning the game. “Hear anything from the guys in the 3rd Alabama?”

“Not a lot. None of them’s good writers. Anyway, airships are more fun. Shame it seems as though I’m not going to be the one to be looking after her when she comes.”

“Too bad,” agreed Brian.

“There was even a chance I might have gotten to fly on her, you know. We all of us wanted to fly on the airship, but I figured it was going to be me if they were going to take any of us, because I was the sergeant in charge of the handling party.”

Aha, Brian thought to himself. The seed of an idea was starting to germinate in his head.

-o-

“
I
t was playing chess with David that gave me the idea,” Brian said that night. “He was complaining that my pieces were all over the board and he couldn’t win so easily.”

“Yes?” said Vickers.