Frankfurt am Main, American Zone of Occupation, Germany
2305 12 April 1946
The Beechcraft C-45—General I. D. White’s personal aircraft—that Cronley expected to see was nowhere in sight as the Dorotea taxied up to the transient tarmac. The only other aircraft there was a Gooney Bird, an Air Force C-47.
But when Cronley saw Lieutenant Colonel William “Hotshot Billy” Wilson walking out onto the tarmac, he decided he had the C-45 hidden somewhere.
Rhine-Main was an Air Force base, and the “Fly Boys” didn’t like the “Ground Pounders” to have aircraft larger than two-seater Piper Cubs. It was said that General White got to keep his small, twin-engine C-45 only because his U.S. Constabulary patrolled all the highways in Germany, especially the Autobahn. How long it took them to “inspect” Air Force trucks on the highways was entirely up to them.
* * *
—
Wilson was waiting for them at the foot of the stairway on wheels.
“Welcome to Deutschland,” he said, shaking hands with Cronley.
Cletus Frade, Max Ostrowski, and Tom Winters arrived as Wilson pointed to the Gooney Bird, and said, “Your chariot awaits.”
Cronley noticed for the first time that it had the Constabulary’s Circle C insignia painted both on the nose and on the vertical stabilizer.
Wilson added, “You should feel honored to fly on the first C-47 aircraft to appear on any U.S. Army Table of Organization and Equipment.”
“How the hell did you pull that off?” Cronley said.
Wilson didn’t reply but instead nodded toward Ginger, who was coming down the stairs. “Is somebody going to explain to me how the Widow Moriarty is involved in this?”
“Officia
lly,” Frade said, “she is here to gather up her household goods. She had to leave them here when they flew her to the States with Bonehead’s corpse.”
“And unofficially?”
“You don’t want to know,” Frade said, “does he, Super Spook?”
“Fuck you, Clete.”
Wilson thought about it and decided not to pursue the question.
“You’re going right back?” he asked Frade. “Are you all right to fly?”
“Against my better judgment, I let Super Spook and Winters watch the fuel gauge needles drop as we flew across the ocean while Hansel and I slept. I’m all right.”
“Good luck, then,” Wilson said, shaking his hand.
Wilson then looked at Cronley.
“Come on, Super Spook, off to Nuremberg and the Farber Palast. You have—everybody has—an appointment with Justice Jackson at oh-eight-hundred tomorrow.” He glanced at his watch and corrected himself. “Eight hundred today!”
[THREE]
Flughafen
Nuremberg, American Zone of Occupation, Germany
0120 13 April 1946
Captain Chauncey “Tiny” Dunwiddie, who was six foot four and weighed close to three hundred pounds, was waiting for Cronley and the others when they landed at the airfield seven kilometers north of Nuremberg.