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.”
“With this one, I mean. Lots of people want to talk to him. So all the old rules. He doesn’t go out. He doesn’t-”
“I know the rules, Tommy. If you’re that nervous, why don’t you pick him up yourself?”
“Spread the bets, Leon. This time, I’m not even at the table. Nothing to see, nothing to connect me. I just pack up my bags and leave. You run into people on the plane, that’s all. But I can’t put him there. The board would light up. I’m not invisible here.”
“And I am.”
“You’re freelance. They won’t be expecting that. Not for him.”
“What’s he got, that you have to take him to Washington yourself?”
“Leon.”
“You owe me that much.”
Tommy looked at him for a minute, then downed the rest of his drink. “Lots,” he said finally, nodding. “Up here.” He touched his temple. “Also a very nice photo album.”
“Of?”
“Mother Russia. Aerial recon. The Germans photographed everything, when they still could. Valuable snaps now.”
“And he got these how?”
“That I couldn’t say. Fell off a truck, maybe. Things do. Want another?”
Leon shook his head. “I’d better go. Start being invisible. Here, finish this.”
“Well, since I’m paying-”
Leon stood up. “Some evening.”
“Tomorrow then. One more and you’re a free man.”
Leon looked at him, disconcerted by the phrase. “Who is he, Tommy?”
“He’ll answer to John.”
“As in Johann? German?”
“As in John Doe.” He glanced up. “No funny business, okay? Let Washington ask the questions. Just do your piece. There’ll be a bonus in it, if I can talk them into it.”
“I don’t care about that.”
“That’s right. Good of the country. Still. Think of it as- I don’t know, for old times’ sake.” He turned his head to the room.
“You coming?”
“I’ll just finish this. Give the place one last look. Goddam three-ring circus, wasn’t it?” he said, his voice drooping, like his eyes, maudlin.
Leon picked up his damp coat. “By the way,” Tommy said, sharp again. “Separate pieces, but where the hell’s Laleli?”
“Past the university. Before you get to Aksaray.”
“Christ, who goes out there?”
“That’s the idea.”
Kanon, Joseph
Stardust
PRAISE FOR STARDUST
“In Stardust, Kanon rescues postwar Los Angeles from noir cliches.
… Hovering over it all, like a freakish fog off the Pacific, is the shadow of the Holocaust, its enormity only now becoming apparent.
… [Kanon] operates with an intelligence that briskly evokes the atmosphere of a vanished era.” — The New York Times Book Review
“A delicious synthesis of menace and glamour, historical fact and rich imagination… Among the real movie people making appearances here is Paulette Goddard-just one element of a perfect setting for a story in which nothing is obvious.” — The Seattle Times
“Spectacular in every way… wonderfully imagined, wonderfully written, an urgent personal mystery set against the sweep of glamorous and sinister history. Joseph Kanon owns this corner of the literary landscape and it's a joy to see him reassert his title with such emphatic authority.” — Lee Child
“Stardust is sensational! No one writes period fiction with the same style and suspense — not to mention substance-as Joseph Kanon. A terrific read.” — Scott Turow
“STARDUST is the perfect combination of intrigue and accurate history brought to life.” — Alan Furst
