82. Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda, Didn't

Chapter 5

The men rose later than usual the next morning. As they straggled downstairs, they missed General Garrison.

"So, where'd he go now," asked Casino, heading for the kitchen.

Actor looked at his back. "He told me he had a meeting in London." He looked at the guards questioningly.

"He left at 0630," said Jack, one of their usual guards.

Casino came back to the stairs. "So whose drivin' him?"

Chief was sitting in the window laughing silently. "I guess he's drivin' himself, Pappy. He took Terry's car."

Goniff looked at the scout dubiously. "A big, tall, three-star general in a little green sports car?"

Actor chuckled, "Goniff, just because he's a general does not mean he doesn't like to drive fast cars. Teresa had to learn it from somebody."

"Thought that was you who taught her," said Chief.

"I merely refined what she already seemed to know," replied the confidence man.

Casino did not want to be left out. "Said she drove the getaway car on the southwest side. Couldn't tell it by her drivin' here at first."

Actor sobered at that. "Well, let us hope she has learned more than driving a getaway car from us since she arrived here. She may need it."

"You 'eard Major Richards," added Goniff. "She's 'capable'."

Actor donned one of his patent smiles. "Perhaps he knows more about her capabilities than even we do? He is her handler."

GGGGG

Right after breakfast, Craig was surprised to be taken from his cell and brought to one of the 'interrogation' rooms. He was even more surprised to step inside and find his father sitting at a table. He remained silent, watching to see where this was going. His father wasn't so reserved.

"Take those shackles off of him," ordered Gen. Garrison.

The mid-thirties, blond Captain Hayward stepped in behind Craig. "I'm sorry, Sir. He is a prisoner and as such will remain shackled."

Will slowly rose from his seat to stand his full, intimidating six-foot, five-inch height. "I have yet to see any formal charges made against Lt. Garrison or his men. Technically, he is not a prisoner."

"I'm sorry, Sir," said Hayward, "I have my orders." He made an attempt at not looking intimidated by the big, craggy-faced general.

Will's eyes narrowed. "Captain, do you see these stars on my shoulder?" He pointed to the ones on his left epaulet.

"Yes, Sir."

"And just how many are there?" asked the elder Garrison.

"Three, Sir," replied Hayward, becoming less certain he wasn't the one in trouble.

"Very good, Captain. The same number as General Fremont who ordered this witch hunt. And more than you have, Captain. Now, remove the shackles, then remove yourself from this room and shut the door. And that is an order. You can post guards outside if you wish. Where do you think Lt. Garrison is going to go? And he is a little too big to fit in my coat pocket."

Ohhh, the old man was in fine form today, thought Craig, keeping his face still. There was a jiggling of the chains behind his back and they dropped from his wrists to be followed by the anklets. Craig brought his hands in front of him and rolled his shoulders to ease the strain. He waited until the door had closed before allowing a tiny smile to grace his features.

"You just can't seem to keep out of trouble can you, Craig," said Will drolly.

"It follows us, Sir," replied the younger Garrison just as drolly. "What are you doing here?"

Will motioned him to have a seat at the table and tossed a pack of Lucky Strikes and a lighter to him. "Your man, Actor, requested my presence."

Craig was a little startled. "Actor did? How?"

Will took his seat again. "A very circuitous route.

The Lieutenant tapped out a cigarette and lit it, pushing the pack and the lighter back toward his father. Will took the lighter to start his pipe.

"I doubt we can talk freely here," warned Craig.

"Yes, we can," replied Will with a smile. "I checked for bugs while they were getting you."

Craig was uncertain. "You checked for bugs? No offense, Dad, but you know how?"

Will gave his son a mock glare. "I do now. I had a wonderful demonstration last night around midnight by Casino, and that little blond monkey, Goniff."

He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a tiny, squashed mash of metal and wires, holding it up for his son's inspection. "I'm afraid I accidently dropped it and stepped on it."

It was all his son could do not to laugh. "So you visited the Mansion in the middle of the night?" Craig asked instead.

"I'm staying there. Those beds aren't nearly long enough. My feet hang off the end,' complained Will.

"So do Actor's."

"I would imagine." Will got down to business. "All right. I arrived late yesterday afternoon. I met with Major Richards and we went over what he knows of the situation. Then I went to meet Actor and learned what he knows and theorizes. Now I want to know your take on things. I am aware of who this Miller person is and why he would hold a grudge against you and your men." Will puffed on his pipe to keep it going and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. "Are you convinced it is Frank Miller?"

Craig shook his head. "I can't be positive. But I'd bet the ranch on it." He hurried on before his father could object. "It has to be someone with a grudge. Someone who knows how our group works and the men. Someone who has the brains enough to pull something like this off in England, like we do in Berlin, Essen, and the other big German cities. Miller is the only one I can think of who meets those criteria."

Will nodded. It was what he was thinking. "Now we need proof. We need some kind of evidence that Miller is trying to frame you."

"How, Dad?" demanded Craig. "The guys are under house arrest. I'm here. Who is going to do it?"

"Your sister."

Craig's heart sank to his boots. "Which one?" he asked warily.

"The middle one, who else? Terry. The one who can work a con with your man, Actor. The one who runs an underground. The one who speaks four languages like a native. The one who can shoot better than anyone else in the family or the county for that matter. The one who can break into a safe or vault. The one who picks pockets and blows up train trestles. That sister. I had an interesting chat with Kevin Richards last evening," he added.

The younger Garrison shook his head. "Sounds like it, Dad. So what do you expect Terry can do without backup?"

"Use what she's learned from your men and get us some evidence." The General leaned back in his chair and puffed on his pipe, watching his son's reaction.

"Get herself killed," grumbled Craig.

Will gave a crooked smile. "Son, last night Kevin told me I needed to learn more about my daughter's capabilities. So, now I'm saying to you, you should learn more about your sister's capabilities."

Craig changed the subject. "Can you get me out of here?"

"Probably," replied Will, in seeming unconcern. "But I'm not."

His son shot him a startled and questioning look. "Why not?"

The general aimed another crooked smile at his son. "Something along the lines of that old saying 'don't put all your eggs in one basket'."

"Terrific."

GGG

The next stop on General Garrison's agenda was Allied Command. His papers got him inside with no difficulty. Those notorious three stars he wore got him a corporal to take him to General Fremont's office. He stood scowling in the anteroom while Fremont's Lieutenant informed the General of Garrison's presence.

Lt. Bridger came out and left the connecting door open. "General Fremont will see you now," he said.

Garrison pushed past him and into the office, shutting the door firmly behind him. Fremont did not rise. Will removed his trench coat and tossed it on a chair, then stood glowering at the general.

"What? Do you have to come over every time your brood gets into a scrape and bail them out?" sneered Fremont.

Will eyed him with disgust. "Apparently, as you seem unable to tolerate them, and keep them locked up so they can't defend themselves. Perhaps these charges, and they are not even charges, are a plan of yours to get rid of the group."

Fremont slammed his fist on his desk in rage. "How dare you!"

Garrison calmly eyed him unfazed. "I could say the same to you. Now do you want to discuss this or should I just file charges against you of false imprisonment of Lt. Garrison and his men. Not to mention my other children feel it is safer to remain hidden in a war zone than return to England."

Gen. Fremont had noticed the extra stars on Garrison's shoulders. Reluctantly he sat back in his chair. "Have a seat, General."

Garrison sat down facing him across the desk. "I have heard a couple versions of this issue. Perhaps you could enlighten me with your take on it and what you intend to do about it?"

The two men spent the next two hours verbally sparring. In the end, it was General Garrison's idea to leave his son in the stockade and the men at the Mansion until further information on the break-ins and the real perpetrators was obtained. All Will would say is they had someone looking into things on the other side of the Channel. Finally they had exhausted all areas of dissension between them. Will rose and picked up his coat. Pausing he turned back to Fremont.

"Two things, General," said Garrison. "You might as well accept the facts you are stuck with my son's team and they are doing a good job. And the other thing is I would stop replacing the listening devices all over the Mansion. It will become costly quickly, not to mention the potential plumbing issue from flushing the damn things down the head."

GGGGG

Again, it was dark when General Garrison returned to the Mansion. As he entered the house, he looked at the two inside guards.

"You may stop replacing the listening devices now," he gave as an almost order. "General Fremont is aware."

He turned to the common room and the four pair of eyes that were watching him with expressions varying from amused to surprised and disgruntled. His eyes rested on the Italian con man.

"Mr. Borghese, please step into my office," said the elder Garrison, who went in and flipped on the light, not waiting to see if he was being followed.

Actor shook his head and slowly rose from his chair, collected his pipe and tobacco and then walked casually into the Lieutenant's office and closed the door.

In the common room, the three remaining cons looked at each other.

"'Is office?" asked Goniff quietly.

Chief grinned. "It does say 'Garrison' on the desk."

"Yeah?" shot back Casino. "That ain't no Lieutenant in there."

"Maybe ole Actor will find out wot's goin' on," suggested the pickpocket.

In the office, both men took seats facing each other across the Lieutenant's desk, and both set about making a pipe. As they lit them and took the first couple puffs, Will looked at the Italian.

"Borghese, I'm still not sure what kind of relationship you have with my daughter," he began.

Actor was not about to discuss that with the man and said nothing.

"You work closely with her, so I think you should stay apprised of what she is doing." The two men watched each other.

"Actor is easier for both of us," suggested 'Borghese' firmly. "And what would Teresa be doing?" he asked, playing the cat and mouse game with the general for now.

"She is somewhere in Switzerland with orders to find Miller."

Garrison watched the con man's eyes narrow. "Without back up?"

The old man shrugged. "Major Richards seems to think she capable. You don't?"

"She is capable of many things," returned Actor, leaning back as though unconcerned. "It is preferrable for any of us to have backup."

Will eyed the con man. "Perhaps we could set it up to look like you are still here and get you over to Switzerland."

That would have been the first idea, but Actor had worked before, and with Garrison, using more than one plan. He shook his head.

"I have another idea," he said.

Garrison leaned forward, "And what might that be?"

Actor grinned wolfishly. "Pull the guards off. Allow it to be known in Allied Command, we have been released on lack of sufficient evidence. Make it known that Lt. Garrison has been released but keep him in the stockade." At Will's look of umbrage, Actor pointed a long first finger at him. "For his own protection. He will get over it . . . in a few years," said Actor, hoping that was true."

"Why safer for him," asked Garrison.

"He is very good working with us, but he is still military," smiled the con man. "We aren't."

The gears began to whir in Will's head. "Are you thinking of setting a trap to entice Miller and his crew to hit Allied Command one more time to make it look like you have begun stealing information again?"

"Exactly," agreed Actor. "We will need to plant some false papers. Preferably in Major Richards' safe and keep Miller out of Allied Command."

"And you will be there to catch them?"

"No."

Will frowned.

Actor's grin widened. "We will be there to follow them. We need to know who they are working for on the Continent so they can be stopped also. And anything that might befall them, should be done on the Continent."

"As an act of war," mused Garrison.

Actor dipped his head sideways in a partial agreement. "As you wish."

"Or?" asked the general.

"We know how to hide bodies. Something the Lieutenant should not be involved in."

General Garrison puffed on his pipe. "He had seen the loyalty these criminals had to Craig; however it was sobering to know four of his children worked with these men.