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“As I was saying before, as I understand the situation, when the President heard that Colonel Mattingly had been kidnapped, he became concerned for Justice Jackson’s security—”

“Why Jackson and not Biddle? Biddle is the chief U.S. judge.”

“Jackson, like Admiral Souers, is an old and close friend of the President. As I understand it, the President told Souers to send me to do that and then called Justice Jackson and told him he was going to be protected whether or not he liked it.”

“You’re telling me—and expecting me to believe—that President Truman personally picked you, a captain, to protect Jackson?”

“Yes, I am. Are we back to why don’t you ask General Greene? Or Admiral Souers?”

“I think we’re back to what else you’re going to do here at the personal order of the commander in chief.”

“On my own authority, Colonel, I’m going to see what the prisoners will tell me about Odessa.”

“Odessa is bullshit.”

“Many believe that Odessa is bullshit.”

“Not so. We just caught two bad guys—SS-Brigadeführer Ulrich Heimstadter and his deputy, Standartenführer Oskar Müller—Odessa was trying to slip into France. I’m surprised you don’t know that. When I was through with them, I sent them here. They were already indicted for what they did at Peenemünde.”

“When you were through with them? What the hell does that mean?”

“You don’t have the Need to Know.”

“You arrogant sonofabitch!”

“So what I’m going to need from you, Colonel, is to clear me and my people into the jail whenever we want to visit one of the prisoners. You have a problem with that?”

“You’re goddamn right I do!” Cohen said. He snatched a telephone from its base and ordered, “Get General Greene at USFET for me.”

After about a minute, Cohen said: “General, Captain Cronley is in my office. He just told me he wants unrestricted access to my prisoners—

“Yes, sir, that was an unfortunate choice of words. I fully understand the prisoners are not mine personally. But I am charged with prison security and giving Cronley—

“Yes, sir. One moment, sir.”

Cohen extended the telephone to Cronley. “General Greene wants to talk to you.”

“Yes, sir?” Cronley said into the phone.

“Jesus Christ, Jim! I thought you were going to bump heads with Colonel Cohen eventually, but you just got there!”

“I’m sorry, sir. But—”

“‘But’ my rosy Irish ass. Learn to get along with Cohen.”

“I’ll try, sir.”

“And I don’t want a telephone call from Justice Jackson three minutes after you walk into his office.”

“I’ve already met with Justice Jackson, sir. And Max Ostrowski, his new interpreter, is already on the job.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sir. And Mr. Justice Jackson has a new press adviser named Cronley.”

“Well, maybe you’re not really as incompetent as most people around here think. But keep in mind, Jim, that Morty Cohen—like most intelligence officers—can be really dangerous when crossed, and obviously that’s already happened.”

“That already occurred to me, General.”