'But you said they were both drinking it,' Harding said.
'Kaz, how do you feel right now?'
'My head hurts, but otherwise fine. A little tired, perhaps.'
'There you go, sir. She could give herself an injection of nalorphine as soon as she was alone, and she's all set. She was just off duty, so it would have been normal for her to go to her room and rest.'
'Could she simply go to the hospital pharmacy and sign out an injection of nalorphine? They just don't hand out drugs, even to head nurses!'
'Sorry, sir, but nalorphine was on the list of drugs stolen when Sergeant Casselli was killed.' That did it. Harding slumped in his chair. 'I should have known,' he said.
'You couldn't have known, sir,' I said. 'There's no way…'
'No,' he said in a low, strangled voice, 'no. I mean I should have known she wasn't really interested in me. She wasn't back in the States, either, not really. But I-'
'You loved her,' said Kaz quietly. The room was silent. Harding let out a breath that sounded like it had been held since he hit the beach.
'Yes. All these years. I thought I was the luckiest man in the world to see her again, here, of all places.'
'We should go to Colonel Walton as soon as possible, Major, and tell him.'
But Harding didn't move. He stared out the window at the rising sun, getting used to the idea of being in love with a murderess. He reached for a cigarette and held it between his fingers, rolling it back and forth. I could hear the white paper crinkle against the tobacco. Nobody said a word.
Two hours later we filed into Walton's office. Since Kaz and I both had bandages on our heads, we looked like a parade of walking wounded after a battle. By contrast, Harding stood ramrod straight, with no expression on his face except the one the army issued him. Inside, I knew he was banged up worse than Kaz and I put together. Harry stood guard outside in the hallway, one hand on a cane and the other resting on his holstered automatic. Walton and Gloria were already in the office, seated at the conference table-or poker table-depending on what your priorities were.
'Good morning, gentlemen. Don't you two look a sight! Baron, you've recovered from your accident?' Either she didn't know why we were here or she was one hell of an actress. She flashed a smile at Harding. He nodded back, curdy. A look of surprise flashed across her face. Now she was on guard.
'Lieutenant Kazimierz,' Walton said, stumbling a little over the Polish name, 'I want to apologize on behalf of the 21st General Hospital. It was chaos here yesterday, our first major influx of wounded, and we were hit from multiple directions. But that's no excuse for putting a patient in jeopardy.'
Harding ignored Walton and looked straight at Gloria. 'We know everything,' he said. I had to admire his self-control. He could've called HQ and had someone else confront her. He didn't.
'Well, that's great!' Gloria said. 'Do tell us all about it.' She looked at Harding expectantly.
'We know about your connections to Jules Bessette in Blackpool. Scotland Yard has questioned him and he's told them everything. We know about the letters, the code, how he set you up with his brother here in Algiers, and about how you tipped them off about the penicillin.'
'Me? You're talking about me?' Gloria put her hand to her breast as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. She was the picture of innocence. She was quite convincing. So was Harding as he lied about Scodand Yard. That was good.
'We know about Jerome. We know how you were hunting for the codebook. We know about the Creme de Menthe and the morphine. We know you had Casselli killed when he wouldn't play along with you, and that you took the receipt for the orders concerning the second shipment of penicillin from him.'
'Sam, what are you talking about? Is this some kind of joke?' Now she turned on the charm, looking back and forth between Walton and Harding, eyelids fluttering, then looked as if she were about to cry. Walton seemed stunned.
'We know about you and Villard.'
Now I was stunned. Harding made this accusation with conviction. I guessed there was something in their past that caused him to make that leap. This time Gloria was silent. Harding kept on speaking, never taking his eyes from Gloria, tapping the table with his index finger as he made each point.
'We know you tried to kill Lieutenant Kazimierz in order to get the notebook from him, and to eliminate him in case he knew anything that might endanger you. He will testify that you gave him an injection, and there are witnesses. I have men searching your quarters now. We'll search the entire hospital if we have to, and we'll find the code book. We know that's here too. And the nalorphine, and your private supply of morphine. It's all here. We know everything,' he added, that last sentence as a quiet afterthought, the only evidence in anything he said of his pain.
'If somebody has done all these terrible things, they could also have framed me, have you considered that?' Gloria tilted her head.
'We know you used this telephone to call Bessette or Villard and arrange to have us ambushed as we drove back to the hotel.'
'If you know everything, what more do you need from me, Sam? Do you enjoy seeing me suffer?'
'I want to know why,' Harding said.
She laughed. 'You know everything, and nothing.' She folded her arms. Not exactly a confession, but not a protestation of innocence either. It was awkward.
There was nothing for me to say, so I glanced around the room. I looked at Walton's books. All the Army manuals, medical texts… and one empty space.
'Where's your Gray's Anatomy?' I asked Walton, my eyes on Gloria. She flinched.
'What the hell does that matter?' Walton growled. Then he surveyed his shelves. 'Damned if I know. People borrow my books all the time.'
I looked at Gloria. What would she need to decode now? What was in the notebook that she didn't already know? Then I knew. Light dawns on Marblehead, as my dad used to say, whenever he figured out something that should have been obvious from the start.
'Captain Morgan,' I said, as calmly as I could 'What was it? Bank accounts?'
Everyone in the room looked at me, quizzically.
'Let me guess. Swiss bank accounts. You weren't just after a split of the take from drug thefts, no matter how valuable the penicillin was. You were after that notebook for yourself. You were going to double-cross the Bessettes. With Villard? Or were you double-dealing him, too?'
She said nothing. No more sweet Southern murmurs, no more innocent fluttering eyelashes.
'Captain Morgan,' Harding stated, in his official voice, 'you will shortly be arraigned for a General Court- Martial on a number of offenses, including murder, attempted murder, larceny, embezzlement, and a host of lesser charges. You will be lucky not to be executed, as these crimes occurred in wartime.'
'Why are you telling me this, Sam?'
'Tell us why. Why did you do it? Cooperate. Please.' Begging her to explain cost Harding. It revealed his agony.
'Oh, you poor dear man,' Gloria said, laughing. 'What, will you promise only to shoot me with one bullet instead of ten? You could learn a lot from Billy, Sam. He's more intelligent than he looks.'
I felt sympathy for Harding, and even a little for Gloria, but she was a cold-blooded killer who had confessed her guilt. She had been playing everyone, probably even Villard, and there was no way she was going to beg for mercy now. She had counted on making a big haul, and if she couldn't have that she wasn't going to settle for a little pity from Harding.
The noise in my head returned, a low buzzing sound. I rubbed my eyes, wondering if it would go away, but it got louder and louder. I tried to ignore it, but then I noticed everyone else was looking out the windows. The door flew open and Harry burst in.
'Air raid. Get to the shelters!'
There was a rush to the door. Harding took Gloria's hand. I fell in behind them. I expected her to twist away, to reject him or even to try to escape. She didn't. But she looked scared. Maybe she needed a little tenderness. Maybe Harding wanted something from her other than contempt. I don't know. What I wanted was a well-built air raid shelter over my head.
