'You mean the other prisoners?'
'Yes. You promised.'
'I'll start tomorrow,' I said, 'first we have to take care of something tonight. I'll come see you in the morning and then-'
'No,' Diana said, clipping off the word with a firmness I didn't think she still had. 'Go find them now. I don't need to see you. You must find them before he starts on someone else. Go.'
She sat with her robe bunched up in two clenched fists, shielding her wounds from the world. And from me.
'Okay, I will,' I told her.
Chapter Thirty-one
I took the stairs two at a time, my hand sliding along the brass banister as my heels smacked the marble stairs leading into the main lobby. I wanted to leave the hotel, to flee the vision of Diana's bruised body, to disappear into the desert and let the sun scorch my eyes and burn away what I'd seen and what I still imagined.
'Billy,' Kaz said, coming toward me from the lobby. I halted at the landing, only a few steps left before the main floor and the open doors, escape beckoning to me with ocean breezes.
'What?' I said, with more irritation than I meant to. I couldn't look at Kaz, I couldn't trust my face to hide the effects of what I had seen and how it was tearing at me inside. Wiping sweat from my forehead with my sleeve, I leaned against the railing, my sight fixed on the sliver of blue sea visible through the double doors.
'General Eisenhower is here, and he wants to see you.' Kaz leaned on the railing, and I felt his eyes on me.
'We've got things to do,' I said.
'I know,' said Kaz, 'after we see the general.' He put his hand on my arm, like a cop leading a suspect or a mother taking her kid to school. I wanted to shake off his grip and run, but it was Kaz, and I knew he meant well. I also knew I couldn't skip out on Uncle Ike, even as crazed as I was feeling. We walked through the lobby, into a wing of the hotel filled with busy clerks and WACs and admirals, lots of hustle and even more bustle as they organized the new home of Allied Forces Headquarters.
Kaz was about to knock on a door when it flew open and General Mark Clark strode out, all six feet plus of him brushing past us as two aides hurried to keep up. The door remained open, held by a woman in a khaki skirt and blouse that she somehow made look faintly glamorous.
'Hello, Kay,' I said. 'I heard the general wants to see us.'
'Yes, Billy, he's been asking about you. And about Miss Seaton. He's very concerned.'
Headquarters staff was like a big family. Everyone knew everyone else's business. And Kay Summersby was no exception. Kay was Uncle Ike's driver, occasional secretary, and constant companion. Kay had known Daphne, and was good friends with Kaz. So of course she'd heard about Diana, which meant so had Uncle Ike. I braced myself for their pity as Kay led us into the next room.
'William,' Unkle Ike said, advancing on me with his right hand extended. His left clasped me on the shoulder. 'How are you?'
'Fine, sir,' was all I could manage.
'Lieutenant Kazimierz told me about your rescue of Miss Seaton. That was very brave, William.'
'It was nothing compared to what she went through, sir.' I regretted how that sounded as soon as it came out. I didn't want to make Uncle Ike feel guilty or add to his burden. I only wanted to get out of here and set things right.
'I know, I know, William. She took a tremendous risk, but it was necessary. We had to take every measure to ensure safe landings for our troops and to rally the French to our side.'
'I didn't mean-'
'Don't worry, William, I'm growing a thick skin these days. Did you know Edward R. Murrow asked if we were fighting the Nazis in North Africa or sleeping with them? Jesus Christ on the mountain! The press is after me as if I were the devil himself.' He reached for a cigarette but the crumpled pack was empty. He threw it away, his mouth twisted in frustration. Before he could say a word, Kay was opening a fresh pack and handing it to him.
'Thanks, Kay,' he said. She smiled at him and went back to her seat. She had a way about her, with that faint Irish lilt in her voice and her dark, lively eyes. I could see she calmed the general down by her presence, handing him cigarettes, sitting with him, being someone who made no demands of him.
Uncle Ike drew deep on his cigarette, blowing out blue smoke that rode on a sigh into the air. 'I was sick when I heard what Miss Seaton endured, William, I want you to know that. That went beyond all bounds of civilized conduct. She will recover, won't she?'
'Yes-yes, I think so. The man who-'
'Yes, yes, William. You want him held accountable.'
Uncle Ike's eyes held mine, and I wondered why he wanted to see me, what could be so important in the midst of everything else he was responsible for. I saw his eyes drift toward Kay, seated in a soft leather chair, her long legs crossed, the heel of her shoe dangling off her foot. Then he closed them, as if he couldn't bear the vision in his mind either. Maybe I was reading too much into it, maybe I was thinking about myself, but I sensed loss and regret and longing in those averted eyes.
'Yes, sir, I do.'
'You have to leave that aside, for now, William. Not everything we want in this life comes to pass. These are delicate times. One mistake, and everything we've worked for can be destroyed. You have to leave things as they are. Do you understand, William?'
I didn't understand a damn thing, except that Uncle Ike felt he had to explain himself to me, and that he felt guilty enough to take the time to tell me it was important to lay off Villard. Maybe he knew all those reporters had a point. Maybe he wished he could do what he wanted, not simply what was best for the war effort. For all I knew, Darlan himself was cooling his heels in the hallway while we had this little talk, and Uncle Ike needed to steel himself to shake hands with a snake. No, I didn't understand anything, as I began to comprehend how the world really worked.
'Sure, Uncle Ike,' I said in a whisper, allowing myself the familiarity we sometimes shared in private. 'Sure.'
Kaz and I didn't go straight back to the hospital, although we were supposed to rendezvous there with Harding to plan for meeting up with the train carrying the second penicillin shipment. First we took a detour to the Algiers docks, to a warehouse that served as the headquarters for the Quartermaster Corps. These were the guys who controlled the shipment of all supplies through Algiers and up to the front. If anyone had evidence as to who'd signed off on the receipt for the order detailing the second shipment of penicillin, it would be the Quartermaster Corps.
We drove through the city center, which was filled with shops and cafes. This was France, not Algeria. All the signs were in French, and the only Arabs in sight were sweeping the sidewalks. Men in suits walked hurriedly down the streets between the four- and five-story buildings, all richly decorated with ironwork grills and tall windows. People sat under awnings at sidewalk cafes, sipping tiny cups of thick coffee as they watched the world go by. I was the world going by. I had places to go, people to kill, no time for lolling around a cafe. As we drove closer to the water, the road skirted the shore. The buildings to our left, each house painted the same light sea-green color that made them look cool even as they baked in the harsh brightness, had their shutters closed tight against the blazing sun. While I admired the architecture, Kaz had been studying the notebook with the codes in it. Or ciphers, if that's what they were. He tapped his finger on an open page, nodding to himself.
'This has to be a book cipher. It has to be.'
'What do you mean?'
'Book cipher, or dictionary code in its simplest form-'
'Well, which is it, a code or a cipher?'
