The Other Side of Midnight (27 page)

Catherine stared at him, not knowing what to say. She remembered the resolutions she had made to herself. Larry was her husband. He had to come first. Catherine realized that it wasn’t just taking her to Paris that was important to Larry. He was showing off for her, asking her to fly in the plane he was navigating. And she had almost spoiled it. She put her hand in his and smiled up at him.

“What are we waiting for?” Catherine asked. “I’m starved!”

Paris was a whirlwind of fun. Larry had arranged to take a full week off, and it seemed to Catherine that every hour of the day and night was crammed with things to do. They stayed at a charming little hotel on the Left Bank.

Their first morning in Paris Larry took Catherine to a salon on the Champs Élysées where he tried to buy out the entire store for her. She bought only the things she needed and was shocked at how expensive everything was.

“You know your problem?” Larry said. “You worry too much about money. You’re on your honeymoon.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. But she refused to buy an evening dress that she did not need. When she tried to ask Larry where all the money was coming from, he did not want to discuss it, but she finally insisted on knowing.

“I got an advance on my salary,” Larry told her. “What’s the big deal?”

And Catherine had not the heart to tell him. He was like a child about money, generous and carefree, and that was part of his charm.

Just as it had been part of her father’s charm.

Larry took her on the visitor’s tour of Paris: to the Louvre, the Tuileries and Les Invalides to see Napoleon’s Tomb. He took her to a colorful little restaurant near the Sorbonne. They went to Les Halles, the storied marketplace of Paris, and watched the fresh fruit and meat and vegetables brought in from the farms of France, and spent their last Sunday afternoon at Versailles, and then had dinner in the breathtaking garden at the Coq Hardi outside of Paris. It was a perfect second honeymoon.

Hal Sakowitz sat in his office looking over the weekly personnel reports. In front of him was the report on Larry Douglas. Sakowitz was leaning back in his chair, studying it, pulling thoughtfully at his lower lip. Finally he leaned forward and pressed an intercom switch. “Send him in,” he said.

A moment later, Larry walked in, wearing his Pan-Am uniform and carrying his flight bag. He flashed Sakowitz a smile. “Morning, Chief,” he said.

“Sit down.”

Larry slouched into a chair opposite the desk and lit a cigarette.

Sakowitz said, “I have a report here that last Monday in Paris you checked in for your flight briefing forty-five minutes late.”

Larry’s expression changed. “I was caught in a parade on the Champs Élysées. The plane took off on time. I didn’t know we were running a boy’s camp here.”

“We’re running an airline,” Sakowitz said, quietly. “And we’re running it by the book.”

“OK,” Larry said angrily. “I’ll keep away from the
Champs Élysées. Anything else?”

“Yes. Captain Swift thinks you’d had a drink or two before takeoff on the last couple of flights.”

“He’s a goddamned liar!” Larry snapped.

“Why would he he?”

“Because he’s afraid I’ll take his job away.” There was a sharp anger in Larry’s voice. “The son-of-a-bitch is a timid old maid who should have been retired ten years ago.”

“You’ve flown with four different captains,” Sakowitz said. “Which ones did you like?”

“None of them,” retorted Larry. He saw the trap too late. Quickly, he added, “I mean—they’re all right. I have nothing against them.”

“They don’t like flying with you either,” Sakowitz said evenly. “You make them nervous.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that if ever there’s an emergency, you want to be damn sure about the man in the seat next to you. They’re not sure about you.”

“For Christ’s sake!” Larry exploded. “I lived through four years of emergencies over Germany and in the South Pacific, risking my fucking neck every day, while they were back here sitting on their fat asses, collecting big salaries, and they don’t have confidence in
me?
You must be joking!”

“No one says you’re not great in a fighter plane,” Sakowitz replied quietly. “But we’re flying passengers. It’s a different ball game.”

Larry sat there clenching his fists, trying to control his anger. “OK,” he said sullenly. “I get the message. If you’re through, I have a flight leaving in a few minutes.”

“Someone else is taking it over,” Sakowitz said. “You’re fired.”

Larry stared at him unbelievingly. “I’m
what?
”

“In a way, I suppose it’s my fault, Douglas. I shouldn’t have hired you in the first place.”

Larry got to his feet, his eyes blazing with fury.
“Then why the hell did you?” he demanded.

“Because your wife had a friend named Bill Fraser…” Sakowitz began.

Larry moved across the desk, his fist crashing into Sakowitz’s face. The blow propelled Sakowitz against the wall. He used the momentum to bounce up. He hit Larry twice, then stepped back, fighting for control. “Get out of here,” he said. “Now!”

Larry stared at him, his face twisted with hatred. “You son-of-a-bitch,” he said. “I wouldn’t come near this airline again if you begged me!” He turned and stormed out of the office.

Sakowitz stood there looking after him. His secretary came hurrying in. She saw the overturned chair and Sakowitz’s bloody lip.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Terrific,” he said. “Ask Mr. Eastman if he can see me.”

Ten minutes later Sakowitz had finished relating the incident to Carl Eastman.

“What do you think’s wrong with Douglas?” Eastman asked.

“Honestly? I think he’s a psycho.”

Eastman regarded him with his piercing hazel eyes. “That’s pretty strong, Sak. He wasn’t drunk when he was flying. No one could even prove that he’d had a drink on the ground. And anyone can be late once in a while.”

“If that’s all it was, I wouldn’t have fired him, Carl. Douglas has a low boiling point. To tell you the truth I was trying to provoke him today, and it wasn’t hard. If he had stood up under the pressure, I might have taken a chance and kept him on. You know what worries me?”

“What?”

Sakowitz said, “A few days ago I ran into an old buddy who flew with Douglas in the RAF. He told me a crazy story. It seems that when Douglas was in the Eagle Squadron he fell for a little English girl who was
engaged to a boy named Clark in Douglas’ Squadron. Douglas did everything he could to move in, but the girl wasn’t having any. A week before she and Clark were to get married, the Squadron went up to cover some B-Seventeens in a raid over Dieppe. Douglas was flying at the rear of the Squadron. The fortresses dropped their bombs and everyone headed for home. Coming back over the Channel, they were hit by some Messerschmidts, and Clark was shot down.” He stopped, lost in some reverie of his own. Eastman waited for him to go on and finally Sakowitz looked up at him. “According to my friend there were no Messerschmidts anywhere near Clark when he got it.”

Eastman stared at him unbelievingly. “Jesus! Are you saying that Larry Douglas…?”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just telling you an interesting story I heard.” He put his handkerchief to his lip again. The bleeding had stopped. “It’s hard to tell what’s happening in the middle of a dogfight. Maybe Clark just ran out of gas. One thing is certain. He sure as hell ran out of luck.”

“What happened to his girl?”

“Douglas moved in with her until he came back to the States, then he dumped her.” He looked at Eastman thoughtfully. “I’ll tell you one thing, for sure. I feel sorry for Douglas’ wife.”

Catherine was in the conference room having a staff meeting when the door opened and Larry walked in.

His eye was bruised and swollen, his cheek was cut. She hurried over to him. “Larry, what happened?”

“I quit my job,” he mumbled.

Catherine took him into her office, away from the curious gazes of the others, and put a cold cloth to his eye and his cheek. “Tell me about it,” she said, holding in her anger at what they had done to him.

“They’ve been riding me for a long time, Cathy. I think they were jealous because I was in the war and they weren’t. Anyway, today was the topper. Sakowitz
called me in and told me the only reason they hired me in the first place was because you were Bill Fraser’s sweetheart.”

Catherine looked at him, speechless.

“I hit him,” Larry said. “I couldn’t help it.”

“Oh, darling!” Catherine said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sakowitz is sorrier,” Larry replied. “I really clobbered him. Job or no job, I wasn’t going to let anyone talk about you that way.”

She held him close to her, reassuringly. “Don’t worry. You can go to work for any airline in the country.”

Catherine proved to be a poor prophet. Larry applied to all the airlines and several of them gave him interviews but nothing came of any of them. Bill Fraser had lunch with Catherine and she told him what had happened. Fraser said nothing, but he was very thoughtful all through lunch. Several times she felt he was on the verge of telling her something, but each time he stopped. Finally he said, “I know a lot of people, Cathy. Would you like me to see what I can do for Larry somewhere else?”

“Thanks,” Catherine said gratefully. “But I don’t think so. We’ll work it out ourselves.”

Fraser regarded her a moment, then nodded. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will,” she said appreciatively. “It seems I’m always coming to you with my problems.”

ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 “D” Street
Washington, D.C.

Reference #2-179-210      April 1, 1946

Dear Monsieur Barbet:

Thank you for your letter of March 15, 1946, and your bank draft.

Since my last report, Subject has secured employment as a pilot with The Flying Wheels Transport
Company, a small independent freight company operating out of Long Island. A Dun and Bradstreet check shows that they are capitalized under $750,000. Their equipment consists of a converted B-26 and a converted DC-3. They have bank loans in excess of $400,000. The Vice-President of the Banque de Paris in New York where they have their major account assures me that the company has an excellent growth potential and future. The bank is considering loaning them sufficient money to buy additional airplanes based on their current income of $80,000 per year with projected increases of 30% per year, over the next five years.

If you wish further details on the financial aspects of the company, please let me know.

Subject began work on March 19, 1946. The personnel manager (who is also one of the owners) informed my operative that he felt very fortunate to have Subject flying for him. More details to follow.

Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg
Managing Supervisor

Banque de Paris
New York City, New York

Philippe Chardon

President of the Board

Chèr Nelle,

Tu es vraiment mauvaise! Je ne sais pas ce que cet homme t’a fait, mais quoique ce soit, il a payé. Il a été mis à la porte aux Flying Wheels cie, et mon ami me dit qu’il en a piqué une crise.

Je pense être à Athenes, et je compte te voir.

Mes amitiés à Costa—et ne tien fais pas la petite faveur que je t’ai faite restera notre secret.

Affectuesement à toi, Philippe

ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 “D” Street
Washington, D.C.

Reference #2-179-210 May 22, 1946

Dear Monsieur Barbet:

This is a follow-up to my report of      May 1, 1946.

On May 14, 1946, Subject was fired by The Flying Wheels Transport Company. I have tried to make discreet inquiries as to the reason, but each time have run up against a brick wall. No one there will discuss it, I can only assume that the Subject did something to disgrace himself, and they don’t want to talk about it.

Subject is looking for another flying job, but apparently has no immediate prospects.

I will continue to try to get more information about why he was discharged.

Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg
Managing Supervisor

CABLEGRAM      May 29, 1946

Christian Barbet

Cable Chrisbar Paris, France

CABLE ACKNOWLEDGED STOP WILL IMMEDIATELY DROP INVESTIGATION OF REASON FOR SUBJECT BEING FIRED STOP WILL CONTINUE EVERYTHING ELSE AS BEFORE

REGARDS,
R. RUTTENBERG
ACME SECURITY AGENCY

ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 “D” Street
Washington, D.C.

Reference #2-179-210      June 16, 1946

Dear Monsieur Barbet:

Thank you for your letter of June 10th and your bank draft.

On June 15th, Subject obtained employment as a co-pilot with Global Airways, a regional feeder airline operating between Washington, Boston and Philadelphia.

Global Airways is a small new airline with a fleet of three converted war planes, and as far as I have been able to ascertain, they are undercapitalized and in debt. A Vice-President of the firm informed me that they have been promised a loan from the Dallas First National Bank within the next sixty days which will give them enough capital to consolidate their bills and to expand.

Subject is held in high esteem and appears to have a good future there.

Please let me know whether you require any further information about Global Airways.

Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg,
Managing Supervisor

ACME SECURITY AGENCY
1402 “D” Street
Washington, D.C.

Reference #2-179-210      July 20, 1946

Dear Monsieur Barbet:

Global Airways has unexpectedly filed for bankruptcy and is going out of operation. As far as I can learn, this move was forced by the refusal of the Dallas First National Bank to grant the loan that was promised. Subject is now unemployed again and back to earlier patterns of behavior, as outlined in previous reports.

I will not pursue any investigation into the reason
for the bank’s refusal of the loan or Global Airways’ financial difficulties unless you specifically advise me to do so.

Sincerely,
R. Ruttenberg
Managing Supervisor