Chapter 4: Why Don't We Do This More Often
Peggy was having her morning tea when the phone rang. Everytime she would struggle to answer the call, uncertain of who she would meet at the other side of line. Very few knew she was using Howard's house as her own and most of the times she would have to deal with wrathful dames that were cast aside by her womanizer friend.
Sighing, she left the kitchen and picked the phone.
"Hello?"
"How's the weather?" a voice asked.
"There's an eagle in the sky," Peggy answered.
It was someone from the SSR and the odd exchange of words was a code to assure it was one of theirs on the other side.
The call only lasted a few seconds, just to request Peggy's presence at the SSR headquarters. Since it was within the protocol not to unveil any details, Peggy was unaware of the reasons behind it. It had passed three days since Peggy had met Thompson at the park, so she wished there were advancements on the track she had given them.
The calendar marked a Friday, which meant a day off at the theatre, so Peggy decided to head to the office right away, eager to look up for answers. But not before finishing her sacred tea.
Finally at the office, Peggy faced the workroom and sensed something was different. The place looked just like how it was before but among all the agents, some actually had stopped to look at her. The feeling of invisibility that had accompanied her since the beginning of her service at the SSR was gone for the first time and it pleased Peggy more than she was willing to admit.
She made her way through the secretaries, catching a couple of expectant looks as she did it so.
"Peggy!"
A few steps from her was Sousa, sitting by his desk and looking happy about seeing her. She approached him.
"Daniel. How are you doing?"
"That's what I ask. You're leading the big mission after all."
Peggy smiled. He always managed to make her feel good about her work.
"Not that I don't know what you've been doing out there." He tapped the files on his desk. "I've been revising your reports."
"So you're the unfortunate one then. I had high hopes for Agent Thompson," Peggy jested. Sousa just offered a resigned look.
"You're looking for the Chief, isn't that so?" he asked.
"Yes".
"I'm coming with you." Sousa struggled to stand up, due to his leg. "I think you'll like what we've got."
He reached for his crutch. Peggy wanted to help him but feared the man would reject her aid, thinking it would somehow make him less, so she quietly watched and waited for him to keep up with her as they made their way to the Chief's office.
When they entered the room, Dooley and Thompson were inside, the first sitting on his chair and the latter standing by the window. Thompson had a bandage around the top of his head and Peggy wondered about what might have happened. A wooden box was placed in front of Dooley.
"Carter, you're here", the chief commented. "Sousa, shut the door".
The agent obeyed.
Thompson had turned around and was now staring at Peggy. He looks tired, she thought.
"What happened?" Peggy asked him.
"The answer is the reason why you're here," Dooley interrupted, "Thompson searched further on the information you provided. Wanna tell her, Jack?"
With the suggestion, Thompson straightened himself up, hands in his pockets, and started to describe the latest events.
"I followed your lead and went to that laundry on the address, but it sent me to their main store – they have a few settled on the city."
Thompson grabbed a small and old map from the Chief's table, displaying it so Peggy could see it. It had red circles marking several locations.
"After some time we were able to find out which store had received the service thanks to the receipt number. It's in the East Village." He now pointed at specific circle at the map, marking the exact location of the store.
The place was far from the theatre, Peggy noticed.
"I went there and asked for more information but it happens the place was quite…disorganized."
"How come?" Peggy asked.
"Whoever receives the clothes has some issues keeping the information about the clients in a sole book. I had to ask Agent Sousa for extra hands when checking their notebooks."
"Since he couldn't ask for extra legs…" Sousa joked, receiving conflicting looks from the others, that were probably wondering if it was acceptable to laugh or not. "Nevermind," he added, embarrassingly smiling.
Thompson went on, "It took us a while but we eventually found a name and an address. Dottie Underwood."
Could Dottie be the mysterious woman, Peggy wondered. A name was little but it was still important information.
"I took Sousa and Krzeminski with me to the address, but since it was a woman's apartment, I entered the building alone," Thompson admitted.
Peggy rolled her eyes. Men's own ignorance sure makes them carefree.
"There was no one there, so I entered the room. When I was looking into it, I found this box."
Thompson reached for the wooden box in front of Dooley, opening it and revealing what was inside.
"A gun," Peggy simply stated.
"And not any gun." Dooley had taken the word. "It's a TT-33, also known as Tokarev pistol, a semi-automatic. Soviet made." He picked the gun, managing it so Peggy could appreciate it better. "You probably saw some of these during the war, Miss Carter, it was used by the Red Army."
"We always tried to avoid the Soviets, although their help was crucial when breaking-in some HYDRA facilities," Peggy commented. "Do you think they have something to do with the case?"
"The gun is still numbered, it came from them. It's possible." Dooley put the gun back into the box.
"Do you trust the Russians? Because I don't," Thompson manifested. Everyone seemed to remain quiet in agreement.
"There's another thing we found," Sousa commented after a while.
"Yes, there was this passport," Dooley said as he grabbed the paper card from the box and handled it to Peggy.
Peggy glanced at the passport and immediately recognized the woman in the photo.
"It's her. I know her. It's the woman I saw." Peggy said, looking at the picture.
"Are you sure?" Thompson insisted.
In the picture, the woman had blonde hair but her features were just the same. No doubt it was the mysterious woman. Peggy also noticed the passport was Italian.
"It's her," Peggy assured, still looking at the photo.
"This means we've got a face and a name. This is good." Dooley seemed pleased by how things had turned out.
"Did you find anything else there, Agent Thompson?" Peggy asked, finally taking her eyes from the passport and looking at the agent.
"I could've had…" he mentioned with a resigned tone, "…if it wasn't for this." Thompson pointed at his bandage. "There was an heavy file right beside the box. I had asked Sousa to come by to see what I had got so far and was about to open the file when something hit me in the head and I fainted."
"I found him on the ground," Sousa went on, "the file was gone and no one saw its content."
Peggy thought about what could the file contain of so important that whoever hit Thompson only cared about it and left everything else behind. Unfortunately, there were no answers.
"I believe Agent Carter got us on the right track." Dooley said. "All we have to do now is search and find everything we can about this woman, Dottie Underwood, while Carter gets back on her undercover and keeps the good work." He gave Peggy an approving look. "Moscow might be behind this attack. This is bigger than I thought and I need to contact someone from the Government." Dooley then proceeded to resume the meeting.
After the meeting, Peggy decided to spend her day at the office, working with her team, that was starting to treat her with more respect than usual. At least this time I'm not serving coffee, she reflected to herself halfway the day.
[the next day]
When Peggy was approaching the theatre, she noticed two men were working and redesigning the front outdoor, which was now annunciating their next play:
"SO YOU'RE THE ONE
RALPH HUSTON & ANGELA MARTINELLI / PREMIERE 22ND MAY"
Peggy smiled when she read Angie's name. It would surely look beautiful glowing at night, especially knowing what it meant to the woman.
Today Elizabeth was lacking on attendants – something about three of them getting sick due to spoiled food. Peggy had to take tasks that usually weren't hers, including the cleaning of the apartment that stayed on the last floor of the theatre. She had never entered the place, so a natural curiosity had built up and she was glad she would finally see how it was inside.
The agent thought the apartment was empty, but as she reached the entry, she heard a voice and decided it was better to knock on the door instead of using the key Elizabeth had given her.
When the door opened, it was Angie she met.
"It's you." Peggy simply said.
"Seems like it, English. Who do ya think would be?" Angie playfully asked, leaning on the door.
"I wasn't just expecting anyone here. Mrs. Dent told me it would be empty for me to clean." She then lifted a small bucket with cleaning products inside, hanging on her left hand.
"The director got me the apartment to practice my lines. Well, me and the others, but for now it's just me." Angie opened the door and invited Peggy to come in. "Be my guest, ya can clean while I practice, no big deal."
Peggy got inside and finally contemplated the apartment. It consisted on a large room that served as both living room and home office. Windows covered the whole front of the building and all the curtains were opened, letting the sun invade the space and spread its light all over. There was also a door at the bottom right that probably lead to a bedroom.
Angie had closed the door and headed to her papers, on a sofa, near the windows. Peggy started the cleansing on the wide room.
"The apartment was designed by the big boss, ya know. The guy who built the theatre. David Frohman, they told me," Angie randomly told Peggy.
"Why would he want to live here?" the brunette asked, while cleaning the dust.
"Eh, they said it was a way he could check his productions. But I don't think our new director enjoys it so he's not staying here this time."
"Picky director," Peggy gossiped. She was trying not to break any of the small glass figures on the central table.
"You betcha! He's not easy."
After their brief exchange of words, Angie kept practicing her lines and did not seem bothered at all by Peggy's presence. The agent thought maybe it was good for her, to have an audience, even if not directly paying attention to her. She couldn't complain either. Listening to Angie kept her entertained during her work time and she was sincerely enjoying it.
Now and then, Angie would tease Peggy with her lines, approaching the agent and making it look like she was dialoguing with her, only to get shy smiles and a few laughs from the agent, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Angie was certainly having fun with it.
When Peggy informed Angie it was time for her to leave, the actress pouted her lips to show her discontent.
"I like your company, English."
"I like yours too, but I'm afraid Mrs. Dent would get jealous if I stayed," Peggy joked.
"I'll get jealous," Angie said and to Peggy it felt more like she was admitting rather than joking along. It made Peggy leave the room with a silly smile on her face.
The next day, when Peggy met Elizabeth in the morning, the latter informed her she had been requested as Angie's personal assistant, so it meant she would manage everything related to the actress: cabinet, food, calls, basically anything she needed. She was also in charge of the cleansing of the apartment, just like the day before.
Everything had taken Peggy by surprise but she couldn't say she was unhappy by how things had turned out. She could have a nice company from someone she fancied and still able to develop her undercover, since being the main actress' assistant meant dealing with a way larger group of people.
Some time after receiving the news, Angie arrived and Peggy went to meet her at the apartment. When she entered the room, Angie was waiting for her.
"Sarah! Did ya like the news? I hope ya didn't think I was too selfish for requesting you as my assistant without talking first. If ya wanna I can ask for someone el-"
"It's fine, it's alright." Peggy assured Angie, cutting off her stressed rant.
"Is it?" Angie asked, clearly happy and relieved.
"Yes. It'll be a pleasure to assist you."
With that, Angie quickly approached Peggy and wrapped her in a sudden hug. Guess it was the best way the girl had to show her happiness and even though Peggy usually had a completely different reaction to the same feeling, she held the other woman tight, enjoying Angie's warmth and carefree display of love.
Notes: Slowly, I'm figuring out the whole plot. Hope you're enjoying it so far! For this chapter, "Why Don't We Do This More Often", by Kay Kyser (watch?v=10j8s4Pi0PY) is our song.