"Sounds ominous. Did one of Tiny's Troopers complain I've been mean to him?"

Derwin didn't reply.

"Why don't we go in my office?" Cronley asked.

Derwin got to his feet and walked to the door. As they walked across the outer office, Dette asked, "Can I get you and the major coffee, sir?"

"That would be very nice, Dette, thank you," Cronley said. He turned to Major Derwin. "Should I ask Miss Colbert to bring her book?"

"No. That won't be necessary," Derwin said firmly.

The office, now that of the chief, DCI-Europe, had formerly been the office of Colonel Robert Mattingly and reflected both the colonel's good taste and his opinion of his own importance in the scheme of things. It therefore was larger and more elegantly furnished than Wallace's office, and he saw that Derwin had picked up on that.

"Have a seat, please, Major," Cronley said. "And when Miss Colbert has gotten us some coffee, you can tell me what's on your mind."

Derwin took a seat, holding his briefcase on his lap, but said nothing.

Dette came into the office, laid a coffee set on the table, poured, and then left.

"Okay, Major. Let's have it," Cronley said.

"Something has come to my attention, Cronley, that I thought, in the interest of fairness, I would ask you about before I go any further with my investigation."

There he goes again, playing d.i.c.k Tracy. "My investigation."

What the h.e.l.l's going on?

"Which is?"

"What would you care to tell me about your relationship with my predecessor, the late Lieutenant Colonel Anthony Schumann?"

"Excuse me?"

"And with Colonel Schumann's wife, Mrs. Rachel Schumann?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Please, Captain Cronley, just answer the question."

"Okay. I knew both of them."

"How well?"

"Slightly."

"So you're telling me there's nothing to the story that you tried to kill Colonel Schumann?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake!"

"Once again, Cronley, please answer my question."

Cronley leaned forward and depressed the intercom lever.

"Dette, would you ask Major Wallace to come in here, please? Right now?"

"Yes, sir."

"At the moment, Cronley, I have nothing to say to Major Wallace," Derwin said.

Wallace put his head in the door sixty seconds later.

"What's up?"

"Come on in and close the door," Cronley said. "And then, when no one else can hear us, please tell Major Derwin what you know about my attempt to murder the late Colonel Schumann. He's investigating that."

"What?" Wallace asked incredulously, chuckling. "Seriously?"

"He sounds very serious to me."

"This is a serious matter," Derwin said.

"What should I tell him, Jim?" Wallace asked.

"Everything . . . well, maybe not everything. And make sure he understands that whatever you tell him is cla.s.sified Top SecretPresidential."

"What I am about to tell you, Major Derwin," Wallace said, with a smile, "is cla.s.sified Top SecretPresidential."

Derwin didn't reply.

"The penalty for divulging Top SecretPresidential material to anyone not authorized access to same is castration with a dull bayonet, followed by the firing squad, as I'm sure you know."

"I have to tell you, Major, I don't find anything humorous in this," Derwin said.

"Stick around, it gets much funnier," Wallace said. "Well, one day Colonel Schumann-and a dozen a.s.sociates-found himself on a back road not from here-I've always wondered what he was doing out in the boonies . . ."

"Me, too," Cronley said.

Now I know, of course, what the sonofab.i.t.c.h was doing there. He was looking for it. He wanted to find out what was going on at Kloster Grnau so he could tell his handler in the NKGB.

". . . but anyway, there he was, and he comes up on a monastery, or what had been a monastery, Kloster Grnau, surrounded by fences and concertina barbed wire. On the fence were signs, 'Twenty-third CIC' and, in English and German, 'Absolutely No Admittance.'

"Colonel Schumann had never heard of the Twenty-third CIC, and he thought as IG for CIC Europe he should have heard of it."

"What was this place?" Derwin asked.

"You don't have the need to know that, Major," Cronley said.

"You're not in a position to tell me what I need to know, Cronley," Derwin snapped.

"Yeah, he is," Major Wallace said. "But anyway, Schumann, being the zealous inspector general he was . . . I shouldn't be making fun of him, the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d got himself blown up. Sorry. Anyway, Schumann drives up the road and is immediately stopped by two jeeps, each of which has a pedestal-mounted .50 caliber Browning machine gun and four enormous soldiers, all black, in it.

"He tells them he wants in, and they tell him to wait.

"A second lieutenant wearing cowboy boots shows up. He's the security officer for Kloster Grnau. His name is James D. Cronley Junior."

"A second lieutenant named Cronley?" Major Derwin asked.

"This was before he got promoted."

"I'd like to hear about that, too," Derwin said.

"That's also cla.s.sified Top SecretPresidential," Wallace said. "Anyway, Second Lieutenant Cronley politely tells Lieutenant Colonel Schumann that n.o.body gets into Kloster Grnau unless they have written permission from either General Greene or Colonel Robert Mattingly.

"Lieutenant Colonel Schumann, somewhat less politely, tells Second Lieutenant Cronley that second lieutenants don't get to tell lieutenant colonels, especially when he is the CIC IG, what he can't do. And tells his driver to 'drive on.'

"Second Lieutenant Cronley issues an order to stop the staff car.

"One of the .50s fires one round.

"Bang.

"Right into the engine block of Colonel Schumann's staff car. It stops.

"At that point, Colonel Schumann decides that since he's outgunned, the smart thing to do is make a retrograde movement and report the incident to General Greene. He does so just as soon as he can get back to Frankfurt, dragging the disabled staff car behind one of his remaining vehicles.

"General Greene tells him Second Lieutenant Cronley was just carrying out his orders, and for Colonel Schumann not only not to try again to get into Kloster Grnau, but also not to ask questions about it, and finally to forget he was ever there.

"End of story," Wallace concluded. "Did I leave anything out, Jim?"

"No. That was fine. Thank you."

"Any questions, Major?"

"That story poses more questions than it answers," Derwin said. "What exactly is going on at this monastery?"

"I told you before, Major, you don't have the need to know that," Cronley said.

"And I'm more than a little curious, Cronley, how you became a captain so . . . suddenly."

"I'm sure you are," Cronley said, and then: "Oh, h.e.l.l, let's shut this off once and for all."

He went to a door and opened it. Behind it was a safe. He worked the combination, opened the door, took out a manila envelope, and then took two 810-inch photographs from it.

"These are cla.s.sified Top SecretPresidential, Major," he said, as he handed them to Major Derwin.

"Do I get to look, Jim?" Major Wallace asked.

"Who's the fellow pinning on the bars?" Wallace asked a moment later. "I recognize the guy wearing the bow tie, of course."

"My father."

"Why is President Truman giving you a decoration?" Derwin asked. "What is that?"

Wallace answered for him: "It's the Distinguished Service Medal."

"What did Cronley do to earn the DSM?"

"The citation is also cla.s.sified," Cronley said.

He took the photographs back, put them back in the envelope, put the envelope back in the safe, closed the door, spun the combination dial, and then closed the door that concealed the safe.

"Are we now through playing Twenty Questions, Major Derwin?" Cronley asked.

"For the moment."

"I want to play," Major Wallace said.

"Excuse me?" Major Derwin said.

"I want to play Twenty Questions, too. What the h.e.l.l is this all about, Derwin? You're not a CIC special agent, you're the CIC IG-without any authority whatever over the DCI-so why are you asking Cronley all these questions?"

"That, as Cronley has said so often today, is something you don't have the need to know."

"I'm making it my business," Wallace said. "My first question is, who told you Cronley shot up Schumann's staff car? No, who told you he tried to murder the poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"

"I learned that from a confidential source."

"What confidential source?"

"You don't have the need to know, Major Wallace."

"Do you want me to get on the horn to General Greene, tell him what you've been doing, and have him order you to tell me all about your confidential source?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"For a number of reasons, including Colonel Tony Schumann was a friend of mine, but primarily because the Army has handed me a CIC supervisory special agent's credentials and told me to look into things I think smell fishy."

"You're interfering with my investigation, Major," Derwin said.

Wallace reached for the telephone on Cronley's desk, dialed "O," and said, "Get me General Greene."

"That won't be necessary," Derwin said.

"Cancel that," Wallace said, and put the handset into its cradle.

Derwin went into his briefcase and pulled out a business envelope that he handed to Wallace.

"This was hand-delivered to me at my quarters in the Park Hotel," he said.