Chapter 9

For five days now, David had been pouring over the mountain of photos, newspaper cuttings, terse reports from field agents and God knows what else. It seemed to make no overall sense. His neck ached and he yearned for a coffee like a drowning man strains for the surface. But this was war-torn England — even the tea was made from tea-leaves reused several times.

Sally entered the room. "Now Colonel" lectured the perky WREN, "You need to get up and walk around a bit — can't have you getting all stuffy like these older gents, can we?" David knew better than to respond to her rhetorical question. Sally ran the AISO like Genghis Khan led the Mongols — with ruthless efficiency. While very pretty — she was the reason someone had coined the phrase 'beauty is only skin deep'! As David meekly stood up and walked around the cramped office — he thought pityingly of the Henry who was engaged to the dragon — for that was her nickname among the men of AISO.

Henry was in fear of her — and rightly so, because she had decided that he was just the right man to marry. The fact that he had never proposed, that he avoided her at every opportunity had not fazed her, and she was busy in her spare time planning the wedding ceremony.

David made his way down a narrow corridor to the tea-room. This was a small room not much bigger than a closet. But it had the makings for tea and a tin of cookies — biscuits the English called them. Strange name for cookies though, David mused. While the kettle boiled, David stuck his head into a room only slightly bigger than the tea-room. "Any of you 'chaps' up for a cuppa?"

Dr. Howard got up. "Good idea — I'll join you for a drink"

Back in the tea-room David poured two mugs of tea, and dribbled a little condensed milk into Mike's. "Any progress David?" asked Michael as he picked up his mug and took a cautious sip.

"I wish" groaned David, "I just don't know what to look for."

"Don't worry about it David. I'm sure you will find what you need. Oh, and by the way, congratulations on being the top of your class at West Point," smiled Michael.

"Now Mike, this is one time I know you have your facts wrong! I came eighth."

"True you came eighth — but let's see. Five brother officers are dead in the wars you have fought and the other two are rotting in some military prison according to last weeks Washington Post."

"What? Who?" David was dumbfounded. He knew his class mates from the academy were as loyal as he was. "Generals Deevers and Albright. They were found guilty of treason says the Post."

"Damn Dewey to hell!" ranted David. He's gotta go! He's destroying all our country holds dear and sacred!" He slammed his mug down on the bench. "John Deevers and Graham Albright are two of my country's most loyal soldiers. There is not a devious bone in their bodies." Taking a deep breath, he turned to Michael, "Look Mike, I'm sorry you saw that, but hell! I am so fired up now I gotta get back to work."

Davis sat back down at the table fuming. He felt so cut off from what was happening. Stuck in war ravaged London — the world of US Politics seemed slightly unreal and laughable. But at least two of his Year were now in prison for treason. And he knew that Dewey's special prosecutors were breathing down Ike's neck

As he stewed over events which were out of his control, his gaze returned once again the picture of Dusko Popov — which he had pinned to the wall. Dusko code named "tricycle". According to AISO he was never a British agent, though they had made use of him. He face was so familiar to David. He had seen him on the front pages of Newspapers and in Movie News reels. It was his damning testimony that had brought down Roosevelt. He had codes and dates and names — supposedly from British intelligence — though they had always denied it. And they continued too! Which made Dusko's information very suspect.

Roosevelt's argument, that a man was innocent until proven guilty, had not held much weight against the virtual flood of damning evidence — that he had known about Pearl Harbour before it happened. The 1944 election come and he lost in a landslide. And the man who had revealed all this to the Republican convention and started the ball rolling — Dewey was now President seeking a second term.

Something about the photo began to stir David's curiosity. Dusko was seated at a table in some restaurant with a number of other men. They all looked rather happy — evidenced by the bottles of wine on the table. Getting up he moved to the wall and examined the photo carefully. Unpinning it, he turned it over. On the back was the name of the restaurant, the date - 19th May 1941 and some initials.

Not taking his eyes from the photo he called out. "Hey Croup!"

"You called" answered Croup as he entered the room.

"What can you tell me about this photo?" queried David as he passed across the picture of Dusko

"Well lets see..." Turning it over and reading the notes on the back Croup hummed and haa'd. "It was taken by one of our sources. We have certain connections with independent er,,, photo journalists. Umm, and they take photos of people of interest which they then sell on to us."

"And the person of interest in this photo is Dusko Popov?" prompted David.

"Well, yes ... among others" admitted Croup.

"And they would be... ?????"

Croup looked up at stared at David in surprise. "You mean you don't know who the gentleman sitting to the left of Popov is?" He sounded credulous.

David nearly snatched the photo from Croup's hand. He knew there was something about the photo. He started to get excited. He stared intently, but for the life of him, he couldn't make the connection. Coup waited patiently. David sighed, "I give in! Now 'fess up — who is the man to Dusko's left."

"So who is it?" demanded David.

Croup said, "I'll give you a hint. The photo was taken at a little restaurant in Little Italy in New York. An Italian — or more precisely - Sicilian eating establishment." Slowly the light dawned and David began to hope. "The gentleman to Popov's left is Salvatore Luciano ... Better known as..."