Hessinger started to follow her, but stopped halfway to the door and asked, “Where do I put them?”
“To live, you mean? I hadn’t thought about that,” Cronley admitted.
“I think it would be a good idea if you did,” Hessinger said.
“And I’m sure you have already given the subject some thought and are going to share those thoughts with me.”
“I think it would be a good idea to get the three women she’s bringing with her out of the ASA building, where they are now. With half a dozen other women, who are probably very curious about what’s going on over here.”
“So?”
“So I suggest you take the ‘Guesthouse’ sign off the guesthouse and put up one that says ‘Female Quarters, Off Limits to Male Personnel.’”
“Do it.”
“And I suggest that as soon as I can get Sergeant Colbert into blue triangles, you put her in one of our rooms in the Vier Jahreszeiten. She’ll be working there.”
“And what is Major Wallace going to think about that?”
“You’ll have to think of something to tell him, and I think you should count on Major McClung telling him by this time tomorrow that you stole her from him.”
Shit, I didn’t think about that. McClung will certainly tell Wallace . . .
Or will he?
Now that I think about it, I don’t think he will.
But this is probably one of those times that Mannberg talked about, when you really want to trust your gut feeling, and therefore shouldn’t.
“As soon as you get Sergeant Colbert into blue triangles, put her in the Vier Jahreszeiten,” Cronley said. “What she’s doing there is none of Major Wallace’s business.”
Hessinger nodded and left the room.
“Don’t let it go to your head, Jim,” El Jefe said, “but you handled the sergeant well. Finally. For a while, I thought she was going to eat you alive.”
“‘Formidable’ describes her well, doesn’t it?”
“So does ‘well-stacked.’ Is that going to be a problem, now that she’s made it so plain she’s not a dyke?”
“Not for me. Ostrowski may have to watch himself.”
That got the expected chuckles.
“So what do we do now?” Cronley asked.
“You get on the phone and get Polo and me seats on the next SAA flight to Buenos Aires. If they’re sold out, tell them they’re going to have to bump two people.”
“What makes you think they’d do that?”
“Because, for the moment, at least until Juan Perón takes it away from us, South American Airways is a DCI asset and you’re chief, DCI-Europe.”
“But do they know that?”
“I told Cletus to make sure they know.”
There he goes again.
“I told Cletus . . .”