“Not now, Freddy. I have to see General Gehlen. Maybe after that.”
“I propose to have Claudette drive you out to Pullach. She drives, you read the after actions, and tell her what, if anything, needs to be fixed.
Okay?”
Cronley didn’t immediately reply.
“And then,” Hessinger said, “she drives you wherever you have to go, Schleissheim, or back here, or even out to Kloster Grünau, when you’re through with the general.”
“Don’t look so worried, Mr. Cronley,” Claudette said. “I’m a pretty good driver, for a woman, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
“Let’s go. Where’s the car?”
“By now it should be out front,” she said. “Let me get my purse and a briefcase for the after actions.”
“‘Individuals in possession of documents classified Top Secret or above must be suitably armed when such documents are being transported outside a secure area,’” Hessinger said.
Obviously quoting verbatim whatever Army regulation that is from memory.
“I’ve got my snub-nosed .38 in my purse,” Claudette announced.
“Where did you get a snub-nosed .38?” Cronley asked.
“I brought mine from the ASA,” Claudette said. “I thought I’d need it here. ‘The officer or non-commissioned officer in charge of an ASA communications facility where Top Secret or above material is being handled, or may be handled, shall be suitably armed.’”
And that, too, was quoted verbatim from memory.
Then she added, “Don’t worry, Mr. Cronley, I know how to use it. Actually, I shot Expert with it the last time I was on the range.”
“And where is your .45, Mr. Cronley?” Hessinger asked.
“In my room.”
“You should go get it, and not only because of the classified documents, if you take my meaning, as I am sure you do.”
“I stand chastised,” Cronley said. “I’ll go get my pistol and meet you out front, Dette.”
“Yes, sir.”
Five minutes later, when he walked through the revolving door onto Maximilianstrasse, the Opel Kapitän was at the curb, with the rear door open and Claudette at the wheel.
He looked at the door, then closed it and got in the front seat beside Claudette.
She didn’t say anything at first, but when they were away from the curb, she said, “I was trying to make it easy for you. Opening the rear door, I mean.”
“How so?”
“Officers ride in the backseat, when enlisted women are driving.”
“But we are not an officer and an enlisted woman, Miss Colbert. We are dressed as two civilian employees of the Army are dressed, and hoping the people think we work for the PX.”
She chuckled.
“And I wanted to be sure that you didn’t think I was trying to get cozy when I shouldn’t.”
“Never entered my mind. What you should be worried about—what we should be worried about—is Freddy, who is twice as smart as he looks, and he looks like Albert Einstein. Do you think . . . ?”
“I don’t think he thinks anything. Read the after actions. That’s what’s on his mind.”