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“More of a problem than that,” Cohen said. “He suspects someone is getting to his enlisted men. No proof, but that gut feeling we’re always talking about. Good officers like Rasberry are usually right when they have a gut feeling about their enlisted men.”

“Getting to his enlisted men? How? Who?” Henderson asked.

“There’s a number of people who want to smuggle things, primarily messages, but God only knows what else, to—and from—the prisoners. Rasberry has a gut feeling that’s happening.”

“And he wants the CIC to look into it?” Henderson asked.

“What he asked me to do is send a couple of my agents into the 26th Infantry undercover to see what, if anything, is going on.”

“Makes sense,” Henderson said. “Are you going to do it?”

“I’d be happy to. The problem is—”

“That none of your agents look like eighteen-year-old PFCs?”

“Right.”

“Clever intelligence officer that I am, I suspect that this conversation now turns to DCI Special Agent Wagner,” Cronley said.

“Yes, it does.”

“If Casey’s willing, that’s fine with me,” Cronley said. “Casey?”

“Yes, sir. I’d like to.”

“Casey hasn’t been in the Army long enough to learn never to volunteer for anything. On the other hand, he’s already proved he’s damned good at working undercover. That’s why he’s one of the two youngest special agents in the DCI.”

“Who’s the other one?” Dunwiddie asked.

“You’re looking at him,” Cronley said. “So what’s Casey going to be looking for in the 26th Infantry Regiment?”

“Find some other PFC who has a lot of money, or who has a romantic involvement with a fräulein,” Cohen said.

“Nine out of ten PFCs in the Army of Occupation have a relationship with a fräulein,” Cronley said. “This place is the realization of every eighteen-year-old’s fantasies. Shall I pay a Hershey bar to get laid before I go to the movies, or should I go to the movies first and then get laid?”

“I wonder how many PFCs have a relationship with a handsome eighteen-year-old German male?” Henderson asked.

“A handsome eighteen-year old queer German male?” Cronley asked.

Henderson nodded.

“Interesting question,” Cohen said.

“Is anyone interested in my scenario?” Henderson asked.

“I think we all are,” Cronley said.

“Let’s start with the premise the somebody who is trying to corrupt one of Colonel Rasberry’s PFCs or corporals is interested in getting him to smuggle things to and from the prisoners.

“Who would want to do that? I suggest someone smart, somebody in Odessa, for example. Or some Nazi, some SS officer not affiliated with Odessa who needs to communicate with a prisoner, or get something to him.

“Anyway, someone smart enough to know that a PFC who suddenly has a lot of money would attract unwanted attention. So how else could one entice a nice young American boy to do something illegal?

“Find one who might be interested in other young males, arrange for them to have an affair, and then take movies of the lovers having at it.”

“And unless you do so-and-so, we’ll see that Colonel Rasberry and your parents get the movies of you blowing your boyfriend in the mail, and you’ll be court-martialed and sent to prison, and your parents—the whole world—will know why,” Cronley said.

Henderson nodded.