“You heard about that, huh?”
“Tom told me all about it.”
“Well, we men of A&M feel a deep moral obligation to take care of West Pointers.”
“I’m Janice Johansen,” Janice said. “Since Super Spook is not good at making introductions.”
“Sorry,” Cronley said. “Miss Johansen, this is Mrs. Winters. And this, Barbara, is Max Ostrowski.”
“Charmed,” Ostrowski said.
“He only sounds like an Englishman, he’s actually a Pole.”
“Tom brought me up to speed on who’s who on the way down here,” Barbara Winters said.
A waiter appeared and took their order.
“Feed him, too,” Cronley ordered, pointing at the table at which the Winterses’ bodyguard had taken a seat beside Cronley’s bodyguard.
“Did we interrupt a private conversation?” Barbara asked.
“Actually, I just charged Max with an important task,” Cronley said. “Finding someone in the indigent population who can fix the bullet holes in my Horch and get the blood and brain tissue off the upholstery.”
“Clever fellow female that I am, Mrs. Winters, I detect some tension between Super Spook and you,” Janice said. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Captain Cronley, Miss Johansen, told me I was a selfish bitch and a lousy Army wife,” Barbara said.
“I can see where that might cause a little tension,” Janice said.
“He did what?” Dunwiddie asked incredulously.
“And when I thought it over, I realized he was right. So I want to thank you for that, too, Jim.”
“Thank him for what?” Dunwiddie asked.
“Why don’t we change the subject to something pleasant?” Cronley said.
“Like what? The blood and brains on your upholstery?” Janice asked.
“I have some good news,” Dunwiddie said.
“Out with it,” Janice said. “Quick!”
“Yesterday afternoon, when I was talking with Colonel Rasberry about Casey, I dropped into the conversation that Tom and Barbara needed quarters . . .”
“You’re staying in Nuremberg?” Cronley asked.
“That’s where my husband is stationed,” Barbara answered. “Where else would I want to be?”
Dunwiddie continued: “. . . and he said he would explain the special circumstances to the post commander.”
“What special circumstances?” Janice asked.
Dunwiddie nodded to the two bodyguards.
“Oh,” Janice said. “Those special circumstances.”
The waiter appeared with a fresh pot of coffee.