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“It stands for 711 Mess Kit Repair Company,” Cronley said. “Or did, until Freddy, who has no sense of humor, changed that to Mobile Kitchen Renovation Company. It’s our version of a police unmarked car. I’d say Claudette drove it over there.”

“And I would say,” Hessinger put in, “that either the NKGB or maybe the Odessa Nazis have seen through your clever subterfuge. It looks to me like they followed Claudette over there from the garage in the basement here.”

“Take notes, Ziegler. Freddy is much smarter than he looks.”

“One final off-the-wall question,” Ziegler said. “How did you know she carried a .38 in her bra?”

“She told me. Boy Scout’s honor and cross my heart and hope to die, I have never seen Miss Colbert in her underwear.”

I’ve said, and think, that he’s a smart cop.

Will a smart cop sense that is exactly the opposite of the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

[ FOUR ]

Interrogation Room Three

Military Police Station

Heinrich-Heine-Strasse 43

Munich, American Zone of Occupation, Germany

0335 24 January 1946

The MP captain sitting across a small desk from Claudette Colbert looked up in annoyance when he heard the door behind him opening. When he turned to see who was coming in, his expression changed to one of mingled annoyance and curiosity.

Hessinger, now wearing officer’s “pinks and greens” with triangles on the lapels, walked into the room, followed by Augie Ziegler.

“Ziegler,” the captain snapped. “When that light over the door is on, it means that no one is to go through it. You should know that.”

“Captain, this is Mr. Hessinger of Central Intelligence,” Ziegler said.

“What the hell is Central Intelligence?” the captain asked.

Hessinger held out his credentials folder to the captain, who examined it carefully.

“DCI is taking over the investigation of this incident,” Hessinger announced. “How are you doing, Miss Colbert?”

“Not too well,” she said.

Hessinger nodded. He could see evidence on her uniform that her attempt to clean up after the shooting had not been entirely successful.

“‘Taking over the investigation’?” the captain parroted. “Two questions. What exactly does that mean? And what’s the provost marshal got to say about you taking over our investigation?”

“What it means is that you will conduct the same kind of investigation of this incident you normally do. With the following exceptions: You will not give information to, or request information from, any other agency regarding this incident unless, in every instance, DCI tells you that you can.

“Further, any information you gather, any evidence, will be classified Secret, and held—separate from anything else—until DCI decides what should be done with it.

“As far as Colonel Kellogg is concerned, Captain, he is not only fully aware of our involvement in this incident but has loaned us Mr. Ziegler to assist in our investigation and, of course, to serve as liaison between us and the provost marshal.”

“Interesting,” the captain said.

“You are advised, Captain, that what I just told you is classified Top Secret–Presidential and is not to be shared with anyone without the express permission in each instance of the DCI. Do you understand what I have just told you?”

After staring at Hessinger for a long moment, the captain turned to Ziegler.

“You’re sure Colonel Kellogg knows about this?”