Chapter 28

"Who would have thought I would ever see your ugly mug again!" smiled Josh. All that could be seen of his face in the dimness of their surroundings were his gleaming teeth. The rest was covered in shoe black and his unruly hair covered in a dark woollen beanie.

His words interrupted David's thoughts as they stood at the bottom of the ladder that would lead them up into an uncertain future that David felt would certainly offer up more blood and guts and mayhem. His reflective mood had sent him back to that second meeting with Dwight.

They had been sitting at the bar, the FBI agents had been sitting closer this time, but still trying to act as if they came to the the Willard for drinks as a regular part of their daily routine. They were not fooling anyone. Dwight had had drinks sent to their table, responding to David's raised eyebrow with a laugh. "They're harmless! It's the listening in to my phones and the illegal entry of my office and home to take copies of my papers that bothers me. I have sent a letter to Director Hoover, but he hasn't replied."

As they drank and conversed it became obvious to David that Dwight was not getting to the point of their meeting.

"Dwight," David interrupted, "Is there anything you want me to do? You know I will support you and even campaign for you." The last was said with great reluctance, and Dwight smiled as he noticed.

"I have something a little more delicate than the political cesspit that is the American Presidential Campaign!" He took a deep breath and continued. "My advisers and I have gone over your material closely. We have Dewey over the barrel, corruption and Mafia links will tarnish his 'hard on crime' image." He took a deep swallow of his coke.

"But..." prompted David.

"But," Dwight smiled wryly, "but we don't think its enough! We believe we have to reveal him as the man who lied to the nation! We need to prove that FDR did NOT know about Pearl Harbour before the fact, and that Dewey set him up." He frowned, "I've talked to those who are still able to get close to Teddy. Truman is convinced that our 'real' president knew nothing of the attack. And that it was as much a surprise to him as it was to the nation."

"But what about the FBI report on Tricycle?" queried David, "That was damming! As was the testimony of that staffer..." he stopped, as he couldn't remember his name.

"Your thinking of Max Bishop" prompted Dwight. "He was on the staff of our Tokyo embassy. He said at the Senate hearing, that one of his informants had told him of the Japanese war plan for the attack on Pearl Harbour. Unfortunately he has since died tragically in a plane accident"

Dwight played with the remains of his drink. "Which brings us back to Tricycle. We need you, David, to find him and get him to testify under oath that he was a plant by Dewey."

David laughed. "You're not asking for much are you sir!" He thought for a moment, "Do you or your sources know where the FBI have him stashed?"

"Ahhh..." Dwight looked a little uncomfortable, "You see David, Tricycle has disappeared. The best we can figure out, he was expelled from the country by immigration sometime in 1945. He was escorted to a plane that took him to Portugal, where we loose track of him. We think he might have ended up somewhere in the Balkans. But we don't know for sure." He laughed. "Like I said, the Presidential Campaign is a cakewalk compared to this task!"

As David took in the import of Dwight's words, the general continued. "We don't have much Intelligence of that part of the world, but your friends in Britain do..." he stopped, and looked closely at David to make sure he was understanding him. "I gather you are supposed to be the future Queen's fiancé. Maybe you can get them to help as a wedding present?" He smiled.

David raised his glass and finished at least a finger of scotch in one hit. "Well I had better get started." he concluded.

Before clambering aboard the diplomatic transport to London, David had rung his mother, and discovered from Bunny that the German submariners had settled into the routine of the farm. The only comment made by his mother had been to complain that the servants' accents were hard to decipher. He told Bunny to use some of his savings to help the men get established. She told him not to worry. Which, he had reflected, was easier said than done.