83. Could, Should, Will, Maybe

Chapter 7

With a frown, Terry wandered into her brother's office. She wasn't sure quite how to tell him her concerns. She was surprised to find Chief still in there.

"Sorry," she apologized and turned to go back out.

"Come back here," said Craig.

"It can wait," said the girl.

"Not the way you look right now," observed Garrison. "How is he?"

Terry turned back. "Wound is ugly in back. I cleaned it up and redressed it. I think Doc Kaiser is right. We'll have to tag team him tomorrow to get him to let me take him to Archbury and get transfused. It's been long enough I can give another pint or two. He's sleeping now."

Her report was sterile, but her face was in a frown. There was more, thought Craig.

"And?" he asked.

"I'm worried," said Terry. "He just isn't right."

"Not right how?" asked Garrison with a frown. He had thought the same thing which was why Chief was still in the office.

Terry looked back and forth between her brother and the Indian. This would be awkward. She hesitated.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Terry, spit it out. What's wrong with him?" demanded Craig.

The girl avoided looking at him. In a quiet voice she said, "He let me undress him."

"So?" asked Garrison, not seeing the problem. "You've undressed all of us over the past year and change."

"No," said Terry gaining a little more confidence. "He let me undress him without arguing. There is something wrong with him, but I don't know what."

"I do," said Chief softly.

Both Garrison's turned and stared at the scout.

"What?" asked Craig.

"Long story, Warden. Probably shouldn't be sayin' nuthin'."

"Okay, Chief. I'm ordering you to say it. That help?"

"I guess…"

Being closest, Terry shut the office door. Chief too the seat facing Garrison and the girl pulled out a chair from the table and turned it around facing the two men when she sat down.

"What happened over there?" probed Garrison.

Now it was Chief's turn to look uncertainly between the siblings.

"Come on, Chief. I want to know," said Terry.

"We both do," added the Lieutenant.

Chief began from the point when Terry had left them in Zurich. He told about the dead safecracker in the alley. And the dead confidence man in the woods. And then he told about finding the dead killer. How he and Actor had gone looking for Miller. How Miller shot Goniff. And then the standoff between Miller and Actor. Chief felt safe in telling the Garrisons of his remorse in not being quick enough to keep Miller from shooting Actor. It was something he couldn't even tell Actor.

The younger man told how Actor had looked coldly at Miller and would not leave until the man was dead. And that the aristocratic man had stood, pointing his gun, not at Miller's heart or head, but at his belly.

"Seen Actor kill before," said Chief. "Never saw him like that. He's had time to think. Don't think he's seen himself like that."

"Jaeger?" asked Terry about the man who had attacked her and succumbed to Actor's bullet.

The Indian shook his head. "No. That was pure rage," he said. "No, this was cold."

It was the longest speech Garrison had seen from his scout, which said something. "Are you okay?"

Realizing he may have said too much, Chief shrugged. "Don't mean nuthin' to me. Like I told Actor. Just another face."

Neither of the Garrison's believed that one for a minute.

"Why don't you get some sleep," said Craig calmly. If you can, he added in his mind.

Chief nodded, got up, and went out the door, closing it behind him. Garrison tapped a cigarette out of the open pack on his desk and lit it, taking a long slow pull on it. He looked at his sister. Terry was sitting, curled into herself and arms crossed in front of her.

"Terr?" asked Craig quietly.

The younger girl looked at him and he held up the pack. She nodded and got up, moving to the chair Chief had just vacated. Craig slid the pack and his lighter toward her. She took a cigarette, lit it and sucked in a lungful of smoke, blowing it out slowly.

"I don't even think Chief is all right," remarked the girl.

"I'd have to agree with you."

Terry looked at her brother almost in anguish. "I don't have a clue how to approach Actor about this. He's not a cold blooded killer and not a torturer. I have a nursing background and we got into a little bit of psychology, but not enough for this." She took another puff. "I think you need to be the one to work with him," she said. "He isn't going to open up about this with me. You stand a better chance."

Craig shook his head. "I probably learned more psychology at the Point than you were taught, but somehow this wasn't covered."

They sat and smoked in silence. Terry finally reached over and snubbed her cigarette butt out in the ashtray on his desk.

"I'll take care of his shoulder," said Terry. "You take care of his head. And Chief's."

"Any idea how you plan on doing that?"

It was their professionalism that prevented both Garrison and his sister from jumping at the unexpected voice of their father. They had forgotten Will was in the office and standing behind the taller of the file cabinets, in a corner, listening. He stepped out into the room and took a seat on the couch, pulling out his pipe and tobacco.

Terry, with her back to her father, rolled her eyes at her brother in a "oh are we in trouble now" expression. Craig saw it and ignored it, though he felt the same way. Instead, he calmly looked at the older Garrison.

"The way we end up doing most things," said Craig. "We wing it."

"What about a staff psychologist?" suggested Will, lighting his pipe and taking a couple puffs to get it started.

"They're cons, Dad," said Terry. "To everyone else, they aren't worth the time or effort. It's easier to just label him unfit and send him back to Alcatraz. Besides, he's the best confidence man probably in the whole world. He'll just con them. He knows what would happen too, and I don't think he likes people peeking in his brain."

"Read his dossier again, Sir," said Craig. "There was a study by a psychologist to learn about what made him tick. He was very cooperative, and the doctor thought he had obtained a breakthrough in felon psychology . . . until he found out everything Actor had told him was a lie."

Terry was unable to prevent a chuckle from escaping. "Dad, if he would ever sit down and talk to you about anything, art, music, history, politics . . ."

"Military strategy," Craig inserted.

". . . You would find him a wealth of information and very interesting," finished Terry. "Nope, we wing it." She stood up. "I'm going to start dinner cooking. I'll serve them as they get up. There will be a plate in the fridge for Actor when he decides to wake up and eat." The last was aimed at her father for his habit of eating food that did not belong to him, like his daughter's.

GGG

It was dark in the bedroom when Actor awoke from a somewhat fitful sleep. He struggled painfully to a sitting position in the bed, tossed the covers off his legs, and inched around to sit on the edge of the mattress with his feet on the floor. The shoulder had stiffened while he slept and was even more painful than when he had lain down. He glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was three, he assumed in the morning. He had slept more than twelve hours. Reaching over, he turned on the bedside lamp.

First things first, he went into the bathroom. Standing in front of the sink he looked into the mirror and curled a lip. His color was a bit on the sallow side, accentuated by the dark circles under his eyes. Actor pulled the outer edge of the sling aside and found the dressing to be clean and dry in the front. He couldn't see the back. A growl rumbled from his stomach. Yes, he was hungry. Going back to the bed, he picked up the robe that at some point been laid out across its foot. The sling was carefully removed, and the left arm slid into the left sleeve. Actor managed to get his right arm in the other sleeve and placed one of the belt ties in his left hand. Only slightly awkwardly, he managed to tie it. Next the sling was placed over his head and around his neck. The injured arm went back in, which was marginally more comfortable.

Food. Silently Actor went into the hall and closed the door behind him. The door to Teresa's bedroom was closed. He was not about to awaken her at this hour, so he made his way down the stairs, surprised to find a light on in the common room. Sure enough, the girl was curled up in his chair, eyes closed, head resting against the highbacked wing. Now he would wake her up.

"Teresa," he whispered as he approached the chair.

Her eyes flew open, and she brought her head up to look at him.

"Are you all right?" she asked with obvious concern.

"I've been worse," he said, brushing it off. "Go to bed. You can't sleep comfortably like that."

Terry looked at her watch. "No," she said. "I have to get up in two hours anyway. I'm okay." She smiled, "You must be starving. Do you want breakfast or supper?"

"What is supper?" he queried.

"Stew."

"I can heat it up myself," he said, not wanting to burden her.

"So can I," she smiled.

Uncurling her legs from beneath her, she slipped her feet into slippers that were on the floor in front of the chair, stood, and led the way to the kitchen. Actor followed and sat at the kitchen table to watch her.

Fifteen minutes later, a bowl of reheated stew was in front of the Italian and both had a cup of coffee.

Between bites, Actor broached, "You must want to know what happened."

"Not now," denied Terry, not wanting him to know she already knew. "At some point today, you'll have to debrief with Major Richards. I can wait. And I have a feeling it's going to be a long story. I'm just happy all of you are back. Even if you have another hole in you."

"Ummm," was his slightly disgusted reply.

"Doc Kaiser wants us to come to the base hospital today and hook us up." At the con man's sharp look, she hurriedly added, "Not like the last time. He just wants to top your oil off a little."

"You have such a way with words, Teresa," Actor said.

"So will you go for a ride with me?" she asked as though it were a Sunday afternoon drive.

He took a bite of stew and chewed it before answering. "And if I don't, I suppose I will never hear the end of it from you and the Warden."

"Maybe when you're a hundred," said Terry impishly.

He gave short chuckle. "At the rate this war is going," he looked at his shoulder, "and I am going, I will be lucky to see fifty."

"You're beginning to sound like Casino and Goniff," Terry pointed out. "I hope it doesn't last that long."

Actor sobered. "Teresa, when I told you in Zurich I did not want you along with us, it turned out to be the right decision for both of us. I just want you to know that."

Terry nodded. "I figured it was something like that." He had finished his stew and set the spoon in the bowl, resting his hand on the table. Terry put her hand over his and gave a squeeze. "Sometimes it's better if I don't fight you. But I'm me so don't expect miracles. I'm not made to be meek."

"Really?" asked the con man with a small grin.

"Jerk," she said, lightly slapping the hand she had just squeezed.

"No, that's Casino."

GGGGG

Chief was sitting on the window sill when the car arrived. Only it wasn't the right car. He watched until the officer got out of the back and started toward the steps.

"Warden, Major Richards is here," he called out.

Great, thought Garrison. Terry and Actor weren't back from the Army Air Force base yet. He didn't bother to put his Ike jacket on but did go stand in the doorway of his office at semi-attention.

Casino opened the door and let the Commando major stride through. "Aw, naw," the safecracker said. "You can't send us on a mission. Actor's down and so is Goniff."

Richards was used to the surly man's attitude and ignored him, looking around instead for the confidence man, who was not present. The major walked up to Garrison.

"Is Actor able to sit through a debriefing?" he asked the Lieutenant.

"I'm sure he will be when they get back. Terry took him to Archbury . . ."

"Tuh get him an oil change," interrupted Casino.

"Knock it off, Casino," said Garrison automatically. "Actually, as Terry put it, they are just topping him off."

Richards looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Garrison smiled and stepped back so the Major could come in the office. "He's getting a transfusion. They should be back any time now. They left here at 0900."

Richards hung his cap and jacket on the coat rack. "I trust Terry is donating again?"

"Yes, but not as much as last time."

A large shape filled the doorway and General Garrison stepped inside. "Kevin," he said in greeting.

"Will. How much longer to do you have here?" asked Richards.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow," replied the General.

That was news to Craig, but he didn't let his face show it.

The three officers chatted for another ten minutes before Chief announced the Packard was back. The two missing people came through the front door and walked directly to the office.

"I assume you would like to debrief now," said Actor pleasantly.

"If you are up to it," said Maj. Richards.

Actor smiled. "I am up to it."

General Garrison took his son's desk chair seat. The others came in and they all sat around the conference table with Richards in Garrison's usual seat facing the confidence man across the length of the scarred wooden table.

Major Richards started the debriefing with, "Just tell me what happened from the time Terry left you in Zurich."

Actor leaned carefully back on the chair and began in a calm voice as though he was reciting a book. He covered the dead bodies, Goniff being shot and then the standoff between himself and Miller with Chief doing the execution.

Richards looked at Chief for confirmation.

"Just what he said," agreed the Indian.

"We came out pretty much the same way as we did with the Lieutenant," added Actor.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from inside the sling, tapped one out, and placed the end between his lips. His silver lighter was flicked to flame in front of him by Goniff's hand. Actor gave the little thief a sharp look and accepted the light with a nod. Apparently, he was an ambidextrous pickpocket.

Richards sat back in his chair. "You will be happy to know, we found out who the informant was. A stenographer in General Fremont's office had been, as you say, hit on by Miller who was over here trying to recruit an informer. She is currently in the stockade, awaiting sentencing."

The major looked back at Actor. "I assume you will be down for a couple weeks."

"According to the good doctor," admitted the con man.

Richards turned to Lt. Garrison. "I will try to give you as much down time as possible." His attention went to Terry next. "Can you type up Mr. Borghese's report?"

Terry nodded.

Richards needed to get back to London for a 1700 meeting, so everyone rose to leave the office. He stopped by Actor's chair and waited for the others to leave. This was not something he was used to doing with this group and he did not want an audience. The con man looked up at him with his usual closed face.

"Thank you," said Richards. "I'm sorry this whole mess was so difficult."

Actor shook his head aware this was a difficult thing for the Commando officer to say. He shook the hand that was offered to him. Richards turned away abruptly and left the office.

GGGGG

It had been a long day, and Actor settled in his favorite chair in the common room before Gen. Garrison could get out of the dining room after dinner and lay claim to it. His relief did not last long. The general came out and walked up to him.

"Would you come have a drink with me in the library?" asked Will.

Well, the older man was leaving in the morning so Actor supposed he could humor him. His jaws clenched briefly as he rose from the chair and the shoulder made itself known. The general took a bottle from the liquor cabinet and two glasses. Face closed, Actor followed the eldest Garrison into the library. Will closed the door behind them.

"Make yourself comfortable."

Actor again chose his favorite chair and sank down in it's comfort. It would be just as difficult to get out of as the one in the common room, but for now it was fine. An old-fashion glass half full of bourbon was handed to him. He accepted it gratefully.

The general sat in the chair angled beside him with a small table in between them. The two men tipped glasses toward each other in a toast that would not make the con man move his shoulder.

"My daughter said I should sit and talk with you. She is impressed with how many subjects you are more than knowledgeable in. Craig says you are well-versed in military strategy."

With raised eyebrows, Actor took a sip of his drink. "And what is it you would like to converse about?"

Will took his pipe and tobacco out of the big pocket of his jacket. He looked at the man beside him. "Do you have your pipe?"

"Yes," said Actor.

Will beckoned with his fingers and almost hesitantly, Actor handed over his pipe and the bag of tobacco.

"Help yourself to my tobacco," he offered.

Teresa had made a pipe for him a time or two, but he never thought the General would. Garrison expertly made Actor's pipe and handed it to him. Then he made his own with the Italian's special blend.

"Do you think your tobacconist would be willing to ship some of this to me in DC?" he asked hopefully.

"I am not sure about that," replied Actor. "The next time I go to buy more, I will purchase a bag for you and give it to the Lieutenant to send to you."

"Thank you. I would appreciate that."

The two men puffed and sipped for a minute.

"You know I was in the Army during World War I," mentioned Will casually. "I was on the front lines until I was wounded and shipped back to the States. During my time in France and Belgium, I learned how to do things I would never have even thought of growing up on a ranch. And I did things I thought I would never do and wondered if it would follow me after the war." He took a puff on his pipe, aware the big man next to him had stopped in mid-sip of his drink. "It took awhile to reconcile myself with that. I know my daughter came back from Zurich and was terribly 'concerned' that she had learned things from you men, and done things alone that she had learned from all of you."

Now Actor was positive he had done the right thing in refusing to take Teresa with them to Germany.

"Do you know what Craig said to her to put it in perspective?" It was a rhetorical question. "He told her you had told him that you were not concerned about either of them. That you had furthered their education in the confidence game and the others had taught them too. It was you who said they are missing the essence of larceny that would turn them into confidence people." Will took a sip of bourbon now. "I learned there are many ways to kill a man . . . and used them. I did not turn into a killer when I got back home. I can read between the lines. You know how. You could have in this instance, but I don't think you did. And even if you had, you do not have it in you to become a cold blooded murderer. You might think about what you said to my son as it applies to you."

Actor slowly set his glass down and stared at an unseen spot on the rug in front of him. Will got up and took his pipe and drink in hand. He walked behind the confidence man, pausing to lay a hand on the good shoulder and give a light squeeze.

"Take care of yourself, Son," he said, before leaving the man to his thoughts.

GGG

The next morning, a car came to take General Garrison to the Army Air Force base outside London for the trip back to Washington, DC. He had said his good byes to his two children already.

"General."

Will looked up as Actor approached him. The man reached in his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of something wrapped and tied inside a large pristine white handkerchief. He accepted it as Actor handed it to him.

"It might be enough to get your home," said Actor. "And thank you, Sir."

Will slipped the bundle carefully into his pocket and nodded. Without anything further, the eldest Garrison turned and went out the door. Actor closed it behind him.

"What was that all about?" asked Casino with his usual belligerence.

"That was for some fatherly advice," said Actor thoughtfully. He turned toward the safecracker and said firmly. "And it is none of your business."

With a small smile on his face, the con man walked around all of them and sank into his chair, crossed his ankles on the ottoman, and picked up his book.