Before he could think of an answer, she broke into a smile that left him no choice but to smile back, duck his head, and murmur, “You can’t blame an old lecher for trying.”
Which led to an introduction to someone she did not know at the Foreign Office.
• • •
AT BELLEVUE HOSPITAL, Isaac Bell found Joseph Van Dorn propped up on pillows and gazing expectantly at the door. He had a week’s growth of new beard on his cheeks, which made him look a little healthier. His eyes were clearer but hardly piercing, and Bell had to work hard to put a smile on his face. The founder of the Van Dorn Detective Agency looked old and very, very tired.
“There you are,” Van Dorn whispered.
“Came as soon as they let me. How are you?”
Dorothy Van Dorn and David Novicki were hovering. Novicki said, “I was just entertaining our pal here with tales of my retirement, wasn’t I, Joe? ‘Barnacle Bill’ is home from the sea. Joe won’t believe that I was driving a trolley on Long Island.”
Van Dorn whispered, “Passengers have no idea what a hand they have at the helm.”
“Trolley went bust,” says Novicki. “I’m going to drive a taxi.”
“Dorothy,” Van Dorn whispered. “Why don’t you and Dave grab yourself some lunch. I need to talk with Isaac.”
“Not too much,” she said.
“We’ll behave ourselves. Don’t you worry.”
Dorothy kissed him on the forehead and leveled her silvery gray eyes on Bell. “Go easy. He’s not out of the woods yet. But he’s been clamoring to see you.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tire him.”
Van Dorn waited until his wife and friend were out the door. Then he asked Bell in a hoarse whisper, “How’s it going in Detroit?”
“Worse than we thought.”
Bell explained that the entire field office was being undermined by corruption, including the supposedly loyal detective Van Dorn had put in charge.
“We have to clear ’em out and rebuild from scratch.”
“Send Kansas City Eddie Edwards,” Van Dorn replied in a voice so low Bell could barely hear. “He’ll straighten them out.”
“Eddie’s not getting any younger,” said Bell. “And Detroit’s getting tougher. I sent Texas Walt.”
“Hatfield? Isn’t he out west, making moving pictures?”
“Walt’s taking time off.”
“I hope he hasn’t gone soft. All that Hollywood high living.”
“If Walt’s gone soft, it doesn’t show.”
Van Dorn closed his eyes. He lay silent, his chest barely moving with his breath. When he finally opened his eyes again, Bell said, “I do have better news about Protective Services.”
“What’s that?”
“Darnedest thing, but when the word got out that Clayton and Ellis were let go, our hotel dicks took notice all around the country.”
“How do you know?”
“I sent agents disguised as bootleggers to offer bribes.”
“Good for you!”