Louise's Blunder by Sarah R Shaber Page B

in its time, covered grizzled hair. Deep frown lines scoured his face between his eyebrows. Royal leaned heavily on one leg as if the other one hurt him.
    ‘You are Mrs Louise Pearlie,’ he said.
    ‘How did you know that?’ I asked. He knew my name and had intercepted me walking up the steps to an OSS divisional office. Again I had a sense of apprehension. I was wary that a stranger, even a policeman, knew my name and where I worked.
    ‘I’m the detective who was called to the scene of Paul Hughes’ drowning,’ he said. ‘Last Monday. And you’re the woman who visited his landlady, Mrs Nighy, the following Wednesday, to question her about Hughes’ absence from work, long before the Metropolitan Police even knew who the man was. I want to talk to you about that visit.’
    Oh my God! I had given Mrs Nighy my real name! And identified myself as coming from Hughes’ office! What had I been thinking! That was a beginner’s mistake. No matter how casual I thought the inquiry was, I should never have given anyone a way to trace me back to OSS!
    ‘How did you find out where I worked?’ I asked.
    ‘An FBI agent owed me a favor,’ he said. The FBI kept secured files on all government personnel. Mine was a little thicker than most. ‘Oh, and I know Paul Hughes worked here too.’
    I feigned innocence as best I could.
    ‘Of course, Detective, I would be glad to help, but I don’t see why you need to talk to me. Poor Mr Hughes drowned accidentally. At work we couldn’t have known that, we only wanted to know where he was. I’m just a file clerk. My boss sent me to his boarding house to ask about him.’
    ‘Did he?’ Royal asked. ‘Did Hughes drown accidentally? Are you sure of that?’
    Stragglers from the reception came hurrying up the hill, glancing at me curiously as they went by. I had to get away from Royal before he attracted any more attention to me.
    ‘I don’t think my superiors would want me to talk to you,’ I said. ‘I’d have to ask permission.’
    ‘Ma’am,’ he said, ‘if you don’t meet me for breakfast at seven a.m. tomorrow at the café on the corner of Twenty-first and “H”, I’m going to get in my police car and drive right here. Then I’m going to limp right up those stairs and tell your boss I need to speak to you and I’m going to be cranky because those steep stone steps are going to make my knee ache. And at the end of all this your boss will learn that you made a mistake that is going to damage his good opinion of you.’
    I couldn’t take the chance that Major Wicker would find out I had done something so stupid as to give Mrs Nighy my real name. I’d be doing nothing but filing index cards until the war was over and then be grateful to find work as a shop girl.
    ‘All right,’ I said, ‘I’ll be there.’
    ‘Smart girl,’ he said. ‘Don’t be late.’
    ‘I’ll have two eggs over medium, bacon, and biscuits with butter and jelly, and plenty of coffee,’ Royal said.
    ‘Adam and Eve on a raft,’ the waitress repeated. ‘But we ain’t got no jelly.’
    Royal showed her his badge, and she shrugged. ‘OK. Maybe we got a little jelly. Ma’am?’ she asked me. ‘Are you ready to order?’
    ‘Toast and tea,’ I said. The waitress ripped the order off her pad and took it behind the kitchen counter where she clipped it to the rotating order rack.
    ‘Off your feed?’ Royal asked.
    ‘I didn’t sleep very well last night,’ I said. I hadn’t been able to eat anything except crackers since Royal introduced himself to me yesterday. I was so fearful that my bosses at OSS would discover that I was too careless to be trusted with my Top Secret clearance.
    It was early and the café wasn’t as crowded as it would be in half an hour. Royal pulled a chair over from an empty table and propped a leg up on it.
    ‘Bad knee,’ he said. ‘Second Battle of the Marne. It was a miracle I didn’t lose the leg. Sometimes I wish I had.’
    ‘Detective,’ I said. ‘What