“It’s in Laleli. Cheap. You can afford it.”
“Laleli. Where the fuck’s that? On the Asian side?”
Leon smiled. “How long have you been here?”
Tommy shrugged this off. “And what do we do with it after we move him?”
“You could take your women there. Nice and private.”
“Yeah, just us and the fleas. Ah, here we are,” he said as the drinks arrived. “Thank you, Mehmet.” He raised his glass. “Blue skies and clear sailing.”
Leon raised his glass and took a sip. Cold and crisp, a whiff of juniper. Mehmet put down a silver bowl of pistachios and backed away.
“Christ, imagine what he’s heard,” Tommy said, watching him go. “All these years.”
“Maybe he doesn’t listen.”
“They all listen. The question is, who for?”
“Besides us?”
Tommy ignored this. “They used to say every waiter in this room got paid twice. And sometimes more. At the same time. Remember the one used to send little love notes to von Papen, then turn around and feed the same thing to the Brits?” He shook his head, amused. “Six months he pulls this off. You have to hand it to him.”
“What good did it do? Anybody ever say anything at the Park that you wanted to know?”
Tommy smiled. “You live in hope. You live in hope. Anyway, that wasn’t the point, was it? Point was to know. What they were saying, what they weren’t saying. Might be useful to somebody. Who could put the pieces together.”
“You think there was somebody like that?”
“Christ, I hope so. Otherwise-” He let it go. “I’ll tell you something, though. It was fun too, this place. Goddam three-ring circus. Everybody. Same room. Packy Macfarland over there and that Kraut who kept pretending he was in the navy right next to him. Navy. And the Jap, Tashima, remember him, with the glasses, a spit of fucking Tojo. At first I thought it
“The good old days.”
Tommy looked up, caught by his tone.
“Come on, Tommy. It’s a little early for last rites at the Park. Mehmet’s still listening. God knows who else. For what it’s worth.”
Tommy shook his head. “It’s finished, this place.”
Leon looked around, feeling the drink a little. “Well, the Germans are gone. And Tojo. That’s what we wanted to happen, right?”
“I mean the whole place. Neutral city in a war-everybody’s got an interest. Turks coming in? Staying out? What’s everybody up to? Now what? Now it’s just going to be Turks.”
“You’ve still got me meeting boats,” Leon said, finishing his glass. “We’re still here.”
“Not for long.”
“What do you mean?”
Tommy looked away, then raised his hand to signal for another round.
“You’re going home?” Leon guessed.
“We need to talk.”
“That’s why we’re having the drink?” Not a new job.
Tommy nodded. “They’re rolling up the operation.”
Don’t react. “Which operation?”
“Here. All of us. Well, most.”
“You?”
“Washington. You know, September they handed us over to the War Department. Couldn’t get rid of Bill fast enough, I guess. What G-2 wanted all along. R &A went to State. Whole unit. Now they’re Research Intelligence. Office of. But the field? What’s the War Department going to do with field officers? War’s over.”
“Tell that to the Russians,” Leon said.
“That’s Europe. Not here. Christ, Leon, you didn’t think we’d just keep going here forever, did you? After the war?” he said, his tone slightly defensive. “Ah, Mehmet.” Making room for the new drinks, some banter Leon didn’t hear as he watched Tommy’s face, the red cheeks moving as he talked. Knowing it was coming, arranging his own transfer, taking care of business. A desk at the War Department? Or something closer to the Mayflower bar? He looked down at the fresh drink, his stomach queasy. Now what? Back to the desk at Reynolds, days without edge.
“When does this happen?”
“End of the month.”
Just like that.
“What about me?”
“You? I thought you’d be glad it’s over. You never wanted- I had to talk you into it, remember? Though I have to say you took right to it. Best I had. You know that, don’t you? That I always thought that.” He moved his hand, as if he were about to put it on Leon’s, but stopped. “I could put in a word for you-I mean, knowing Turkish, that’s something. But they’re closing the shop here. Everything back to G-2 and you don’t want to join the army, do you?” He looked over the brim of his glass. “It’s time to go home, Leon. OWI’s already packed up. Everybody’s going home.”
“I haven’t been back to the States in-what? Ten years now.”
“You don’t want to stay here. What’s here?”
My life.
“Get Reynolds to transfer you back. Be a big shot in the tobacco business.”
Would they? An office in a long corridor of offices, sharing a secretary, not his own corner overlooking Taksim. A house in Raleigh with a small yard, not the flat on Aya Pasa looking all the way to the Sea of Marmara. Anna where?
He shook his head. “I don’t want to move Anna. She’s doing so well now. Real progress. A move now-” The lie effortless, one of the reasons he’d been the best.
“She’d do even better in the States, if you ask me. They could do something for her there. Hospitals here-” He stopped. “You look all funny. What is it? The money?”
“The money?” Leon snorted. “What you pay? That’s not enough to notice.” Just enough to make a difference. “It’s the drink, I guess,” he said, pushing it away. “I’m beat. All the waiting around.” He looked up, feeling Tommy staring at him, alert behind the glassy eyes. “I never did it for money, you know.”
“I know. I appreciate that.”
“I’m surprised we’re pulling out, that’s all. Be a little dull. Pushing paper at the office.”
“Want to push some more? They’re going to need somebody at Western Electric. Middle East account-the whole territory. Guy in charge now is leaving.”
“For Washington?”
“So I hear.”
“You had someone at Western too?”
“Now, now.”
“Like to keep your bets all over the table, don’t you?” Separate drawers, separate secrets.
“Safer that way.”
“You’ll be running out of covers soon. No more Lend-Lease. No more OWI. Western Electric. Even the guy in the tobacco business.”
“What guy?”
Leon smiled. “I’m going to miss you. I guess. When do you go?”
“As soon as we can arrange air transport. For our friend. The one who got seasick tonight.”
“You’re going with him?”
“We don’t want him to travel alone. He might get lost. We just need to park him here for a day or so. Then all your troubles are over. But while you’ve got him-well, I don’t have to tell you. It’s not as if you’ve never done this before. Just be careful.”
“Always.”
