Part 53 (1/2)
Cronley put his hand on Moriarty's arm when they were halfway between the building and the jeeps.
”Hold it a minute, Bonehead,” he said.
”Can I infer now you know me?” Moriarty said.
”How could I ever forget you?”
”Are you going to tell me what the h.e.l.l's going on?”
”If you have a bottle of decent whisky in your BOQ, I'll tell you what I can. And if you don't have a bottle of decent whisky, why don't we stop at the Cla.s.s VI store on our way to your BOQ?”
Moriarty, after an awkward pause, said, ”I don't have a BOQ, Jim.”
”So where do you sleep?”
”Ginger and I are in Dependent Quarters.”
After another awkward pause, Cronley replied, ”That's right. You married Ginger, didn't you?”
”You were there, Jimmy. All dressed up in your brand-new second lieutenant's uniform, holding a saber over us as we came out of the chapel.”
And if I wasn't the world's champion dumb f.u.c.k, that's what I should have done, married the Squirt the day after I graduated.
The Squirt was one of Ginger's bridesmaids, but I didn't pay any attention to her. I wanted to-and did-jump the bones of another bridesmaid, a blond from Hobbs whose name I can't even remember now. Probably couldn't remember the next day.
And look where I am now!
”I don't think my seeing Ginger-or Ginger seeing me-right now is a good idea, Bonehead.”
”She knows I went to the airport to meet some big shot,” Moriarty said. ”She'll ask me how that went. And I don't lie to Ginger.”
”Can she keep her mouth shut?”
”f.u.c.k you!”
”Bonehead, what we're doing here is cla.s.sified Top SecretPresidential,” Cronley said.
Moriarty looked at him for a long five seconds.
”So what do I tell my wife, Captain Cronley, sir?”
”Jim, I suggest you go see Mrs. Moriarty and play that by ear,” Dunwiddie said.
”You work for him, Captain? I thought it was the other way around,” Moriarty said to Dunwiddie.
”I work for him, Lieutenant.”
”Why don't we all go make our manners to Mrs. Moriarty?” Cronley asked.
[FOUR].
Officer Dependent Quarters 0-112 11th Constabulary Regiment U.S. Air Force Base, Fritzlar, Hesse American Zone of Occupation, Germany 1725 18 January 1946 Mrs. Virginia ”Ginger” Adams Moriarty was red-headed, freckled, twenty-two years old, and conspicuously pregnant.
”Well, I'll be!” she greeted Cronley. ”Look what the cat dragged in! I guess you're with the big shot Bruce met. Hey! What's with the captain's bars?”
A moment later, having seen the look on Cronley's face, she said, ”Why don't we all pretend I didn't say what I just said. Let me start all over.” She then did so: ”Jim, what a pleasant surprise.”
”Hey, Ginger.”
”I think you know how devastated Bruce and I were when we heard about Marjie.”
”Thank you. Ginger, this is Chauncey Dunwiddie, who is both my executive officer and my best friend.”
”My friends, for reasons I can't imagine, Mrs. Moriarty, call me 'Tiny.' I hope you will.”
”Welcome to our humble abode, Captain Tiny.”
”Thank you. Mrs. Moriarty, I'd like to show-”
”If you want me to call you 'Captain Tiny,' you're going to have to call me 'Ginger.'”
”Deal. Ginger, I'd like to show you something.”
”Will that hold until I give you something to cut the dust of the trail?”
”I'm afraid not,” Tiny said, and extended his DCI credentials to her.
She studied them carefully.
”Wow!” she said. ”Have you got one of these, Jim?”
”He does,” Dunwiddie said, and put out his hand for the credentials.
”Tiny,” Cronley said, and when Dunwiddie looked at him, he pointed to Moriarty.
Dunwiddie handed the credentials to Moriarty.
”Jesus!” Bonehead said, after he had examined them.
”Don't blaspheme,” Ginger said.
”Sorry,” he said.
”Well, Marjie always said Jimmy was going to be somebody special,” Ginger said, and then added, ”I guess I can't ask what's going on.”
”You want to tell them, Jim, or should I?” Tiny asked.