transferring more infantry units to Norway. Infantry that we, or the Russians, won’t have to face elsewhere. Good job, son!”
They each shook my hand. I was stunned. Now I was a hero. Now that I wasn’t the total fuckup they thought I was, it was time for congratulations and pats on the back. It was a dirty, rotten low down trick. It made me feel like a little cog in a big machine, two-timed by people I had trusted, including my own uncle.
“Wait a minute, sir,” I said. “Was there anybody else in on this deception?”
Uncle Ike seemed to understand. He nodded to Harding and Cosgrove to leave us alone. They filed out and Uncle Ike waited, standing by the window and looking out at the quiet park in the middle of Grosvenor Square.
“No, William. Daphne didn’t know. She didn’t deceive you, we did. Lieutenant Kazimierz doesn’t know, and won’t. And no one else will either. This has been your initiation, William, and you’ve passed with fly-ing colors. But with that comes responsibility. You’ve saved countless lives by your actions. Now you simply need to keep quiet about it. Do you understand, William, I mean, really understand what I’m telling you?”
“Men died, General. Others were captured…” I shrugged, unable to finish, feeling confused and betrayed. I stood by Uncle Ike and looked out the window as he lit another cigarette. Late afternoon shadows reached like fingers across the small green park below.
“This is war, William. Nearly everything I do is a calculation balancing lives against victory. Men did die on your mission, and it was totally your responsibility. There’s no way around that, is there?”
“No, sir. No way.”
“But you also saved many, many more. You’re ahead on this one, William, if you can stand to do the calculation at all.”
“I understand.”
He gripped my shoulder. “I wish you didn’t have to, with all my heart.”
The famous Ike grin vanished. All that was left was a weary sadness. He gave my shoulder a tight squeeze, turned, and walked out of the room. He had left a cigarette half stubbed out in the ashtray, and the blue smoke rose lazily up, a thin strand pooling under the lamp, dulling the light in the room. I did understand, God help me, I did. I was glad their plan had worked, understanding the lives it had saved.
But I had been out on that boat and seen Higgins and the other crewmen, alive one minute, cut down the next. I had killed them, just as much as any German sailor. I could do the calculation all right, but those few numbers on one side of the equation had faces that I would always remember. Daphne had a face.
I put my palm on the window, feeling the coolness of the glass. I watched a GI and a young girl stroll arm in arm through the park. Was he headed for the real invasion? Maybe I’d saved his life. A group of sailors rounded the corner, laughing, pushing each other playfully. Maybe them, too. I looked down the street to the crosswalk. A stream of uniforms hustled across the street, American, British, who knows what else. All of them, too? I wanted to run out, look each of them in the face, ask their names, look at pictures of their girlfriends.
I didn’t. I stood there, counting. I could have stayed there all night. But Harding collected me and walked me down to his office.
“Just one more thing, Billy,” he said as he paused in front of his door. “I want you to know that I admire what you did. It took guts. And if you ever do it again I’ll string you up by your balls. Got it?”
“I get it, sir. This is my initiation, remember? I get to play the numbers game now.”
“Shut up, Boyle. Now that we’re not going to shoot you, there are people waiting to see you.”
He opened his door and shoved me in. The first person I saw was Diana. There were others behind her but they were just a blur.
“Billy!” She flew across the room and flung her arms around me.
“Thank God you’re safe,” we both said at exactly the same time. She looked deep into my eyes. We just stood there for an eternity, until we heard a polite cough.
“Diana, move aside, will you, there’s a line forming, dear.” That was Kaz, in a wheelchair, pushed by Captain Richard Seaton, guiding it with his one arm.
“Kaz!” I bent down and gave the little guy a bear hug as best I could. “Kaz, how are you? God, it’s good to see you!”
“I’ll be fine, Billy, if you don’t squeeze the life out of me,” he said, looking up at me with a sad smile. A red, raised scar split the side of his face. It wasn’t pretty, but at least he was alive. His leg was wrapped in a plaster cast but otherwise he looked to be in one piece.
“Lieutenant Boyle,” Captain Seaton said, “I’d like to personally thank you for what you’ve done. It showed great loyalty and determination. Traits I admire.”
He extended his hand and I knew that buried within what he had said was an apology. A proud guy like he was would never say it straight out, but there it was anyway. I held on to to his hand for a few seconds.
“Thank you, sir. I’m… I’m so sorry, about Daphne.”
“As are we all,” said Diana.
Kaz looked down at the floor. Moisture softened the captain’s eyes, but after a pause, all he said was, “Yes, well, we’re here for a more pleasant duty. Kaz has arranged for a quiet meal back at the Dorchester. We want to hear all about your exploits, how you pulled it off!”
“Great, I’ll tell you everything,” I lied.
We piled into a cab for the short ride to the Dorchester. The wheelchair folded inside the capacious front seat of the taxi next to Diana, and Kaz hobbled into the back, holding on to my arm for support. It winded him, and we had to work at swinging his leg with the heavy plaster cast safely into the car. The captain and I sat on the jump seats. Kaz grimaced as the cab pulled away from the curb and kept his eyes shut during the ride. He was paying a price for meeting me today, and I wondered at the price he’d pay every day for the rest of his life.
We pulled up to the Dorchester and there were more hands to assist, doormen springing up to unfold the wheelchair to bring it to the door and help Kaz out. He gave them all a smile and called them by name. There was tenderness in how they treated him, and I was glad that at least he had a home here.
“By the way,” said Kaz as I wheeled him through the door to his rooms, “I’ve had your few pitiful belongings brought down from that tiny garret. You’ll have the sitting room. I have too much space here as it is.”
“Kaz, I can’t…” I caught a glance from Diana that said, No, don’t dare refuse, he needs you here.
“Hell, it’d be great. Thanks.”
Kaz didn’t reply. He wheeled himself over to the table and changed the subject.
“I should be rid of this cast and up and about in two weeks. Not soon enough, if you ask me.”
“How are you otherwise?” I asked.
“They say I’ll have a permanent scar,” he said, fingering the healing rip on the side of his face. I could see that the stitches had just recently come out. His eyes wandered around the room. There are scars and then there are scars. There was a silence for a while. Then Kaz came back, and brightened up.
“Billy, do you know I’ve been assigned to you? As soon as I’m back on active duty.”
“Assigned to me? What for?”
“Don’t be so modest, Lieutenant,” Captain Seaton said. “You’re among friends here. You and the baron are now Eisenhower’s Office of Special Investigations. A name like that covers a multitude of sins, don’t you think?”
I couldn’t agree more. If they only knew how many. The captain poured champagne and we drank a toast to great multitudes of sin. He poured again, and offered another toast.
“To Daphne.”
We clinked our glasses and said her name, and I half expected her to walk through the bedroom door in a gown, apologizing for being late as she fiddled with an earring. The door never opened. We sat, gleaming silver and shining china before us on the table illuminated by candles.
Here in this room, haunted by memories, surrounded by friends and the promise of a future, a little of the past seemed to drop away. I didn’t feel as terrible as I had before about my part in causing those deaths. Maybe it really was for the best. Maybe I had been used, but in a good cause. Daphne’s killer wasn’t out there still enjoying life. He had paid for his crime. And some other guys might not get knocked off in the real invasion when it came. The guilt was still there, however, whenever I thought of Higgins and Harry and all the others the course of whose lives I’d had a part in altering. It would always be there with me, I knew, like a tune that I couldn’t stop humming even as I grew to hate it. But the people in this room had faces, too, and we were alive and together for now. That, too, went into the equation.
