an automobile accident in Mexico. When Richard's parents came to pick him up at the end of the term, Richard announced that Harley would be part of the family from then on. And they went along with it. Richard could be quite bull-headed when he wanted something. Harley's only relatives were a set of grandparents who weren't much interested in rearing a boy. And of course there was plenty of money. It was such a typical thing for Richard to have done.'
'He was generous?'
'Oh, yes, to a fault. An open, generous, noble man. That was why it was so absurd to have accused him of spying. He could hardly keep a surprise party secret.'
'But I thought he was in naval intelligence in the war,' said Marlene.
'Oh, that!' replied Mrs. Dobbs dismissively. 'That wasn't anything like spying. Richard was based in Tulagi at first and collected information about Japanese movements in the Coral Sea and the Solomon Sea. He had a network of coast watchers, supplied by submarines and PT boats. That's how he won his Navy Cross. One of his people had been discovered by the Japanese and he led an expedition to get the man off the island he was on. They went out in PT boats and rescued the coast watcher, and Richard stayed to the last moment with a few other men, holding off the Japanese until they could get the agent off the beach. Of course, he wasn't authorized to do any such thing, but that's the sort of man he was. He knew his duty and he did it, whatever the personal cost. Harley, of course, was a different sort of man entirely.'
'You mean, you might have believed it if Mr. Blaine had been accused instead of your husband?'
'Not at all. If anything, Harley was more intensely patriotic than Richard. I meant his character. He was much… darker than Richard. Closed. I think he was very isolated in childhood; his parents were apparently not terribly interested in raising him, the sort of people who believe that lavish presents and the best schools are a substitute for love. I suppose it was natural for him to become a spy. After the war, Richard went to work for the secretary of the navy and Harley stayed on at CIA. Of course, we saw a great deal of him. Richard was intensely social. Harley called him one of the great politicians of his generation.'
'Was he interested in actual politics?'
'Oh, my, yes! He was planning a campaign for the House in New Haven, for the 1952 election, when he was accused. Harley was to be his campaign manager. They used to sit up nights in the study, plotting. They joked that Richard would be president first, and then he'd pick Harley as his successor.'
'Was that a real possibility?'
'They certainly thought it was. Joe Kennedy's money bought the presidency for his son, and between them Richard and Harley could have given the Kennedys a good run. Besides which, Richard was twice the man Jack Kennedy was. He was a real war hero, not a phony one. He wrote his own books. And he was not obsessed with bedding every woman he ever met. Yes, I think that if things had worked out, Richard Dobbs would have shown very favorably against John Kennedy. They knew each other, of course, on Tulagi. And Richard liked Jack, but you know, Richard liked everyone, but he certainly wasn't taken in. How did he put it? Bright enough and charming as the devil, but essentially corrupt and with all the character of an earthworm. And naturally, he knew the true story of what happened with that PT boat.'
'What happened?' said Marlene, fascinated.
Mrs. Dobbs smiled. 'Oh, it was a story he used to tell, at parties and such. I wish I could tell it the way he did.' Mimicking that silly Kennedy accent. How this fine upstanding boy, this bootlegger's child, in command of the fastest, most maneuverable surface vessel in the history of naval warfare, on a clear night with visibility of over a mile, on a calm sea, managed to get himself run down by a Japanese destroyer. Well, naturally, they were all asleep, with the radio off. Failure to keep watch, I believe it's called, a court-martial offense, but of course nothing was done to him, and he did save those sailors afterward. It made a good cocktail party story, but it would have been devastating if Richard and Jack had gone up against one another. Richard wouldn't have said a word, but Harley would have made sure everyone knew. I used to think how odd it was, and how sad. Instead of Richard and Harley, Jack and that dreadful Lyndon. I don't think the country has quite recovered.'
They were silent for a moment. Mrs. Dobbs poured another round of tea. Marlene decided it was a good moment to get the conversation closer to the bone she was after.
'Speaking of Harley, do you know anything about what he did in the war, the spying part?'
Mrs. Dobbs gave her a sharp look. 'How is that germane to our discussion?'
'I don't know if it is,' said Marlene with a casual shrug. 'You tell me. Two men whose lives have been intertwined since childhood. One of them is accused of spying, the other one is an actual spy who defends the accused. I think Mr. Blaine's character and career are important to a consideration of what happened back in 1951. But that's up to you, what you want to tell me.'
After a brief pause, Mrs. Dobbs nodded and said, 'Well, I don't suppose Harley would mind at this late date. He certainly was quite free in talking to Richard, and as I said, Richard was famous for not keeping a secret. Richard told me all I know about this. Harley was, as I said, recruited into the OSS right after law school and operated in the Pacific. He was a talented linguist. He spoke fluent French and he knew Japanese and Chinese, which was quite rare in those days. He spent some time in Saigon, posing as a Vichy Frenchman, spying on Japanese shipping. Then he was in the Philippines, and after the war, I think he was in Japan operating against the Soviets. I don't know why he left the Agency. Half-seriously, he used to say it was because he missed seeing us. That's really all I know.'
'Then it must have been his CIA contacts that enabled him to learn about Gaiilov.'
Mrs. Dobbs stiffened in surprise and her teacup clattered in its saucer. 'You know about that?'
'Yes, Mr. Blaine was very forthcoming when I spoke to him. He described a prison meeting in which he laid out the Gaiilov situation for you and Mr. Dobbs, and Mr. Dobbs told him to go ahead if it wouldn't hurt the country.'
'Yes, of course, and Harley assured him it wouldn't. Apparently, Harley was involved in bringing Gaiilov over to our side, so he ought to have known. Allen Dulles was insane with rage about it. He never spoke to Harley again, and I understood at one time they were quite close. Well, he's dead, and so is Richard, and so are the men who accused him, and Harley's dying. He won't let me see him, you know?'
'Who, Mr. Blaine?'
'Yes. He says he wants me to remember him as he was. When we were young and full of hope, as he puts it.' Mrs. Dobbs fell silent again and Marlene saw that her eyes were brimming. 'You know,' she said in a strained voice, 'I am suddenly quite tired. I wonder if we could continue this at some later time.'
'Of course, Mrs. Dobbs. I'd like to come back, if I may, to look through any material in Mr. Dobbs's study that may be relevant.'
The older woman nodded and said, 'Yes, yes, as you like, although I imagine Hank took everything years ago.'
Marlene rose and put her pad and pen away in her purse. 'One last thing. What you just now mentioned, that all the people involved are dead. That's what makes it so hard to collect information on this project. I was wondering, do you know what happened to the Russians? Reltzin. And Gaiilov.'
'Gaiilov? I have no idea. Reltzin probably lives right here in Washington.'
'He does?' asked Marlene with surprise. 'How do you know that?'
'Because I see him nearly every week during the concert season. He is a music lover, as am I. We have been nodding to each other for almost twenty-five years, although we have never exchanged a word. He even sent me a card when Richard died. I think Richard would have found that amusing. Harley certainly does.'
'He knows you've seen Reltzin?'
'Of course. He would have told you if you'd asked him.'
But Marlene had, and he hadn't.
Driving back to Virginia in the yellow VW, Marlene considered what she had learned so far and her options. It was clear that Blaine had lied to her, about being CIA, and about how he had learned about Gaiilov, and about Reltzin being returned to the Soviet Union, and she didn't know why. He was dying, apparently. Why bother hindering the amateur investigation of an ancient case? Maybe his mind was going and he couldn't keep the old lies straight anymore. In any event, she had gone as far as she could with the accessible material and informants. Moving further would take serious investigative work, full-time work, and that, she had to admit, she could not really accomplish all by herself, and certainly not as an unpaid hobby. It was a lot easier doing investigations when you had a couple of thousand cops behind you.
