A Wolf, By Any Other Name . . .
Chapter 1
Supper that evening was a boisterous affair, with everyone talking and laughing, except Sgt/Major Rawlins. Terry had done the cooking without too much objection from the Sgt/Major. On the last mission Garrison, Casino and Actor had been on to France, the confidence man had somehow managed to sneak two bottles of excellent burgundy wine out without breaking them. Terry had taken those, a large - by wartime standards - hunk of Black Market beef and more Black Market mushrooms. From the garden, she had harvested onions, thyme, and carrots. The freezer had yielded bacon, while the pantry had coughed up an overlooked jar of canned tomato puree, some molasses and some precious sugar. It wasn't exactly beef bourguignon, but even Actor thought it was wonderful.
Goniff was tearing into his bowl like he had not eaten in weeks. The psychological boost of having the sutures in his head removed by Actor that morning had brightened him considerably and he was almost his old self.
"You got more?" asked Casino. "This is great, Babe."
"I have more," admitted Terry, "but if you eat it tonight there won't be any for tomorrow. It's better the second day anyway."
"I think you have outdone yourself tonight, Sister," smiled Craig.
Casino sat back in his chair with a satisfied grin. He turned his head to look at the woman beside him. "Hey, Babe, you know how to make cheese?"
Terry looked at him dubiously, wondering where this was leading. "Um, kind of, I guess. It's easier to buy it. Why?"
Casino grinned at Garrison. "Forget gettin' her a cow. Can yuh get her a sheep?"
Actor knew exactly where his mind was at and gave a loud laugh.
Garrison crossed his arms in front of his chest with the stern military look he was so good at. "No . . . sheep."
"Casino! Thanks for the support!" she protested "Besides, we're cattlemen. We don't raise sheep. Why do you want a sheep?"
"Pecorino fresco," said Actor. "I'm sure you've had it before."
Terry's eyes widened. "Where did you get fresh pecorino?"
"Someplace you probably wouldn't have wanted to eat," said Garrison with a smile. He looked sternly back at the safecracker. "Casino, no sheep, no cow, no goat, no pig."
"I already have," Terry counted in her mind, "three pigs at the moment."
Garrison's face froze and he stared at her. "Where are you keeping three pigs?"
"I know we're not feeding pigs here," interjected Rawlins. He knew what went into the compost, and the chicken coop, and the burn barrel.
The girl grinned in response. "I bought into three pig clubs."
Actor chuckled and Rawlins' eyes got big. Garrison had heard something somewhere about pig clubs, but had not paid attention. The other two cons knew nothing about it.
"Three, Miss?" squeaked Rawlins. "You bought into three!"
Terry nodded.
"But . . . but," he stuttered. "We aren't feeding them."
"We aren't," agreed Terry. "I am. Kit's in it with me. I swap eggs to La Petit Luna. They save us their scraps after dinner hour at the restaurant. Kit goes in the morning, gets the scraps and takes them to the people who are raising the pigs. And we've started making up sandwiches at the Fox for lunchtime. Goes over good with the people at G-2. So whatever leftovers we have that need to be thrown out, go with the scraps from the restaurant."
"So how do you get enough food to make sandwiches?" asked Garrison, now interested. "Black Market shouldn't be cost effective."
Actor answered that one. "They are a public house, serving food. They do not have the restrictions individuals have."
"That where yer getting' the sugar for Goniff's tea from?" asked Casino.
Terry glared at him. "Casino, one of these days do you think you could learn to think before you run off at the mouth?"
"What?" he objected. She flicked her eyes toward the Sgt/Major without him seeing her.
Chief didn't help matters any. "So where are you gettin' the sugar?"
Terry hoped this wasn't going to G-2 via Rawlins' big ears. "Some of it is Black Market. Kit, Chris, and my rations." She did not mention the not quite proper ration books the men seem to come by. 'The rest comes from Ma and Kate Gallagher. They send the box to the flat and Kit and I divide it."
"So how much sugar is that?" persisted Casino. Garrison wanted to know too, so he allowed the safecracker to talk.
"Ma and Kate get 2 pounds every 4 weeks. That's the base. Now, Gallaghers have a cousin in Lethbridge, Alberta. She's a widow and she's diabetic. Instead of swapping out her sugar ration tickets for something else, she gets the sugar and packages it up.
"You're running 'ot sugar across the border?" asked Goniff with delight.
Terry wrinkled her nose. "A little worse than that." She paused.
"Go on," urged Garrison. "I want to hear this."
Terry grinned. "Remember Old Man Parker?" He nodded. "Well, he knows the back way into Canada without the border check. He takes truckloads of hay and grass bales up there every month or two and sells them at a decent, or indecent, profit. He picks Kate up, drops her off at the cousin's house, sells his grass and hay, picks her up and brings her home. So every month or two Kate comes back with another four pounds of sugar. She gives one pound to Parker for the ride."
"That's a lot for a couple pounds of sugar," said Casino dubiously.
Garrison eyed his sister. "There's more isn't there?"
Terry nodded. "Kate and Ma have been letting Parker come harvest grass and hay from the ranches. They get paid a portion of the take."
Actor laughed. "Ingenious!"
Craig shook his head. "Do Max and Dad know what their wives are doing?"
"Are you kidding?" scoffed his sister. "Would you tell Max or Dad something like that?"
Garrison shook his head. "No."
"The postage must be horrendous," remarked Rawlins.
"Kit and I send money home for the postage and to help them stay afloat."
"They are in need of finances?" asked Actor. He still exchanged letters with Josie Garrison, but they were nice generic letters because of the censors. No questions asked and not much offered except reminiscing about the old times in Italy.
"Well," said Terry. "They raise their own vegetables and fruit. They have the chickens for eggs and meat, a couple milk cows, and a couple head of cattle. Craig, Monty, and I send money home. Chris doesn't have much because she and the boys don't break into safes so they don't get the takes we do. Joe, Kit and Pres send money home too."
Rawlins looked back and forth between the two Garrisons. "When the Yanks joined the war, we thought all Americans are rich."
"I know," said Casino. "Overpaid, oversexed, and over here. We get that all the time at the pubs."
"American soldiers do get paid more than British soldiers," said Garrison.
"Yeah? An' when are they gonna start payin' us?" asked the safecracker.
"You aren't regular army," Craig reminded him. "And pay was not in the contract you signed with the Army to get out of prison."
"Okay, Gentlemen," said Terry brightly, deciding it was time to end this conversation. "If you're done, then let me get at the dishes."
GGG
The Sgt/Major was not at all happy with the supper meal. Oh, he ate his, and it was good, but it wasn't right. And he made that perfectly clear to Terry in the kitchen. She should not be coddling the men. They were part of the army so in his mind, despite what he had been told, they were still soldiers and should be treated as such. Terry was of a mind to leave again, but she waited to make sure the guys got a second meal out of what she had cooked.
Her response to the annoying man was, "If it bothers you so much, then feel free to not eat it. You can cook something to your standards for yourself."
Two days later, Terry moved back out. Christine had already left and was no longer at the flat. 'Auntie' was not happy with her being two hours away from London, so she and the boys were put up in another large flat that had bedrooms enough to accommodate all four of them. This left Garrison and his men without either girl again; something that did not go over good with the men.
Rawlins had taken over their physical training. It gave him great pleasure to set up obstacle courses and training areas that were guaranteed to get the men dirty and push them to the their limits. They in turn took great pleasure in doing what they could in retaliation that was so sneaky it couldn't come back on Garrison like before.
The first thing Rawlins did was add another wall to the obstacle course. This one was a little shorter than the original so that one man could scale it without the help of another. The men had seen it and taken it in stride, until the first time they ran the course with the new wall. Actor was first in line to go over the wall. He came out of the trees at a full out run. There wasn't enough time for him to see the quagmire at the base of the wall. He attempted the jump, but when his foot landed in the mud, it slipped out from under him and he went down, face first into the mess. Casino came flying out of the woods, determined the con man would not get through first. He wasn't able to stop in time and ran into Actor's back, knocking him face down into the mud again. Chief saw what had happened and sprang forward, His foot landed in the middle of Casino's back, shoving the safecracker and the con man further into the muck, but allowing the scout to clear the wall with a minimum of dirt. Goniff put his breaks on and slid into the first two men like he was sliding into first base playing baseball.
Goniff got up and reached a hand for Casino's, pulling him up. He in turn, grabbed Actor's wrist and yanked him out of the mud hole. Chief sauntered around the end of the wall and kept his distance. He could not help but grin at Actor. The tall, usually elegant man was a mass of mud with two eyes glaring out.
Casino turned on Rawlins. "You lousy crumb!"
Rawlins smiled. "You gentlemen need to practice on something more realistic."
Actor barely maintained his temper. He scraped mud from his face as best he could with filthy hands and marched away toward the manor house.
"'Ere now, you aren't done yet! You 'ave 'alf a course to finish." The Sgt/Major was grinning now.
Actor did not stop.
"I wouldn't mess with him if I were you," said Chief. "You might find yourself eatin' mud."
"That's good coming from you," shot Casino. "What was that you pulled, Injun?"
"I couldn't stop any more than you could," said Chief, hands raised palms up.
"Enough talking," said Rawlins cheerfully. "You have to finish the rest of the course."
"We're finished, Limey," snapped Casino.
The three men turned and followed Actor. The con man reached the house first, pounding up the steps. Inside, Garrison could hear loud talking and cursing in Italian. It brought him to the door of his office just as the front door slammed open and something large and unidentifiable stormed in. The voice and height were the only thing familiar.
"What happened?" demanded Garrison.
Actor was beside himself with rage. "That . . . Limey . . . wanted the obstacle course to be more 'realistic'! I would love to 'realistic' him!"
"Did he get all of you?" asked Craig, not sure whether to be angry or laugh. A laugh right now could be fatal though.
"All except Chief, and I can't guarantee him if Casino gets his hands on him." Actor looked down at himself in disgust. "I am going to shower."
The Italian stomped up the stairs. Garrison stayed in the office doorway and waited. It wasn't long before the other three came in; their state of mind much the same as Actor's.
"Warden!" started Casino.
Garrison help up a hand. "I know. I heard. Go get cleaned up."
The three went upstairs to shower. Garrison waited. The door opened and a beaming Rawlins entered.
"Was that really necessary, Sgt/Major?" asked Garrison, with the calmness the others would recognize as anger.
"They need more training. They have it entirely too easy here," said the non-com smugly.
"May I remind you that you have it entirely too easy here also?"
"I'm just doin' me job, Leftenant," objected Rawlins.
"Well I suggest you do it a little more militarily and a lot less forcefully," instructed Garrison sternly.
"Yes, Sir."
The Sgt/Major went to the kitchen and Garrison went back into his office, shaking his head. He knew his men. There would be retribution.
It took a week and an intervening mission before the cons could begin getting even with the Sgt/Major. Goniff watched the British non-com take wet laundry out to the clotheslines and hang them up. His uniforms took up one entire line. The pickpocket hightailed it up to the second floor common room. The others looked up at his cheeky grin.
"Out the window!" instructed Goniff. "Chiefy, we'll need your knife, a shovel, and a 'ose."
The three didn't know what he had in mind, but they knew it had to be good. They followed him out the window, making sure the bars didn't clink on their way out. Single-file, they snuck around the house and out to the back where the clotheslines were. Casino got a shovel from the old stables and Actor hooked up the hose. Chief set to work scraping the one clothesline on both ends so that it was well frayed. Casino dug a wide shallow trench below the Sgt/Major's clothes. Actor placed the end of the hose at one end of the trench and turned the water on. Soon the trench was full of muddy water. The dirt was loosely shoveled back in and then carefully sprayed with more water. The hose and tools were put away and the men returned to the common room the same way they had left it.
An hour later, the area under the line with the uniforms was still mud. There had been sun and a very fine light breeze, so the clothes were dry. The Sgt/Major had taken down the men's clothes and folded them into a basket. When he went to get his uniforms, he noticed the mud that had not been there when he had hung up the clothing. Annoyed, he accurately assumed it was the cons, trying to get even by making him step in the mud. Thinking he could outfox them, Rawlins took hold of a pair of trouser legs and pulled to get them closer so he could reach the pins. The line snapped on both ends and the entire line of clothes fell into the mud.
Angrily, Rawlins took the clean clothes into the laundry room and dumped them on the table to be ironed. He took the empty basket and went back to retrieve his uniforms, not even taking them off the line. He stormed into Garrison's office with the basket and stood sputtering in front of the Lieutenant.
"This is too much," he complained loudly. "Look wot they've done to me uniforms, Leftenant!"
Garrison took in the mud and the agitation on the Englishman's face. Oh, yes, it was the work of his men. Craig went to the bottom of the stairs.
"Casino, Actor, Goniff, Chief! In my office now!'
Upstairs the four men exchanged grins. It must have worked. They followed Actor down the stairs to the office and stood looking innocently at the Sgt/Major and the basket of filthy uniforms.
"Wot happened, mate?" asked Goniff.
"Suppose you tell us," said Garrison, arms crossed in front of him.
"What? That?" Casino pointed at the basket. "How would we know? We were upstairs playin' cards."
"It 'ad to be you," insisted Rawlins.
"Did you see us go past or hear the bars?" Chief asked Garrison.
He had to admit he had not seen nor heard them leave, but he was certain they were behind this.
"'Ere now," said Goniff, gingerly picking up one end of the line. "See, it's frayed."
"Hey, that's not our fault," said Chief.
"O' course it's your fault," spouted Rawlins. "It 'asn't rained in three days and the ground was dry when I hung up the clothes. Now there's a mud puddle under the clothesline wot wasn't there before."
Actor smiled sympathetically at the man. "You seem to be attracted to mud," he said.
Garrison sat down at his desk and rubbed his forehead above his eyebrows with thumb and middle finger. He didn't know whether to throw them all in the stockade or laugh. He looked up instead.
"Tomorrow, you will restring the entire clothes line," he ordered.
"Sure, Warden. No problem, Babe. Unless we get a mission between now and then." Casino smiled amiably.
The cons went back upstairs, smiling broadly. The Sgt/Major went back to the utility room and washed his uniforms yet again before the mud stained them too much. It was too late now to hang them outside, so he left them until morning.
GGG
After supper, which consisted of 'rations', the men went back upstairs. Casino told the other three he would be back in a little bit. He had to go get something from the Doves. They let him go, but did not follow. Actor assumed if they were all found missing after the afternoons shenanigans, the Lieutenant would be very angry.
An hour later, Casino reappears through the broken bars in the window. He was carefully hugging something large in his shirt.
"Took yuh an hour to get done with Maggie?" asked Chief.
"Naw," said Casino. "It took her a half hour to get what I wanted from her flat."
The safecracker opened his shirt and pulled out a glass canning jar partially full of a white opaque liquid. With a smirk, he set in on the table.
"Okay, wot's that?" asked Goniff.
"That, Gentlemen, is glue." Casino smirked even more if that was possible. "Kinda looks like the starch Rawlins uses on his uniforms, doesn't it."
"Ah, but will it come out?" asked Actor. Permanently destroying the non-com's uniforms would surely get them sent to the stockade at the very least.
"Yeah, all he hasta do is wash 'em again," assured Casino.
"What about the Warden's uniforms?" asked Chief, rolling a match between his teeth.
Goniff grinned. "We're safe. "'E washed and ironed the Warden's clothes this morning. He did 'is laundry first. Not enough lines for everybody. That's why Terry always did two loads o' drying."
"So," continued Casino. "One of us sneaks downstairs around 3 o'clock in the morning and replaces half the starch in his bottle with the glue. Same consistency almost and same color. Then after he dries his clothes in the morning, we let him starch away."
Late the next morning, being in a hurry to get done before he had to make lunch, the Sgt/Major sprayed all of his uniforms and piled them back in the basket, The timing was perfect, as the Lieutenant unknowingly became an accomplice, and called for Rawlins to type some papers up quickly. This made the Sgt/Major wait until after lunch to do his ironing.
"Leftenant Garrison!"