Glen Cook - A matter of time

Not much of a bright side, thinking that, if you hadn't saved the world, at least you hadn't helped destroy it.

The next thing he knew, Annie was shaking his shoulder.

"What time is it?"

"Two." She eased down beside him.

"I have to leave pretty soon."

"I know."

He rolled toward her, pulling her close.

There was a gentle sorrow to their loving, an expression of unspoken fears. For Norm there was a thirty-year-old dйjа vu. There had been another such night early in 1944, before he had marched off to war.

They hadn't been married then. Had not been lovers till that final night…

Alpha and Omega?

Annie refused to go to the airport, just as she had refused to go to the railway station back then.

Le Quyen watched her husband depart with the same sad eyes.

Matthew did the driving. It was a cool, silent morning. They had the freeway almost to themselves. There was a heavy dew, and the air smelled of rain.

Cash didn't notice Beth till after they had boarded the plane. She couldn't hide there. There weren't a dozen passengers to get lost among.

"Beth!" he exploded. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Going to Rochester."

For half a minute he was too confused to say anything. Then, "Girl, you just march yourself right back home."

She sat down, buckled her seat belt.

"Come on, Beth. This isn't any job for you."

She ignored him.

He started to summon a stewardess, to have her put off the plane. Then he realized that people were staring, realized how foolish he would look and sound. He plopped down, angrily fastened his own belt.

Tran stared out a window with a bemused smile.

"I don't think it's funny," Cash told him. "This isn't some vacation trip."

"I was reflecting on the paradoxes in chains of command."

"I don't follow you."

"How many times have you threatened to crucify your lieutenant because he wouldn't let you do things your way? How many times have you ignored him? You set the example for her."

Cash looked at Tran sharply. He wanted to claim that these circumstances were different. But he couldn't. That would have been pure hypocrisy.

He grinned. "You got me dead to rights."

Having listened to the conversation, Beth remarked, "It's too late anyway, Norm." The engines began to whine. "So let's get on with the job."

He gave her a look that promised he wouldn't forget, but said only, "What else can I do?" He sighed, closed his eyes.

"Wake me up when we get there."

He wouldn't sleep. Flying frightened him too much. Every little creak from the airframe would be sandpaper across raw nerves. Safety statistics didn't mean a thing to the primitive cowering at the back of his skull.

Frank Segasture, true to his promise, was there to meet them.

Cash embraced the man. "How the hell are you, you runt wop? Getting a little chunky there, aren't you?" He jabbed a finger into the man's spare tire.

Segasture was short, broad, and swarthy. He looked more like a movie Mafioso than a detective. He took the insults with a grin. "When you going to wake up and start wearing a hat? What the wind ain't bleached it's blown away. Kids started calling you chrome-dome yet?"

"Hey, Frank, when the dust settles let's go out and get plowed. I haven't gone clubbing since that time in D.C."

"In Rochester? You got to be shitting me. Man, people around here go to Cleveland for excitement." He eyeballed Beth while he talked. She reddened, tried pretending she didn't notice.

"Oh. This is Major Tran. And Beth Tavares."

"Ah. The lady on the phone. The one with the sexy voice." He ogled her. "Maybe we can learn something from you guys in the sticks. I never had a partner like this."

Beth blushed more deeply, moved nearer Cash.

"Tran, did you say? The Viets are in on this, too?"

"Just personal curiosity," Tran replied. "I was a police officer myself. I find this case extremely interesting."

"That it is. You guys had breakfast yet? Didn't think so. With that outfit you're lucky the plane even got here. Come on. Let's get your bags and go. I've got us set up at the Holiday Inn. It's only a couple of miles from the house."

"I'm not hungry," said Cash, puffing as he tried to match Segasture's pace. "Let's just go out there…"

"Down, Sherlock. There ain't no rush. She hasn't showed yet. Might as well take it easy till she does."

"She hasn't?" Sudden fear rolled over Cash. Had he guessed wrong? "But she's had plenty of time…"

"Hey! Don't get an ulcer. Okay? We'll know if… when she comes in. And where she goes."

"Huh? How?"

"Think about it." Segasture grinned as he helped Beth claim her bags.

Christ, she must plan on a long stay, Norm thought.

"I give up, Frank."

"Ah, Norm, you never were any fun."

"Taxi drivers," said Tran.

Segasture spat to one side. "Yeah. Norm, your friend is too damned smart. Yeah. What I did was get to the cabbies working the stations. I told them there was a twenty for the guy who spotted her and let us know."

"Isn't that a little cheap?"

"There's guys would cut your throat for that much down in the city. Anyway, they're going to be your bucks. I'll up the ante if you want. Hey, pretty lady, I'll carry them."

"Don't worry, Beth. This old dog is all bark. He's the last of the faithful husbands."

In a tight voice she remarked, "That's what I was afraid of." She wasn't at ease with that kind of banter.

"You're blowing my mystique, Norm. Come on. I've got a car. Hey! You remember the time we booby-trapped old Handley's microscope?"

They relived similar hijinx all the way to the motel, till Cash was sure Beth and Tran were convinced that his FBI course had been waste of the taxpayers' money.

Over breakfast Beth became Miss Business. "Norm, did you forget Dr. Smiley?"

He halted a forkful of pancake halfway along its arc to his mouth. "Damned near," He explained to Segasture.

"Okay. I'll put the word out for the drivers to watch for him. You got any other rats going to come out of the woodwork back here?"

Cash shook his head. "You know, I wish I could get out and prowl around the countryside. My mother came from a place called Johnstown. I think it's around here somewhere."

"Nan. It's almost over to Albany."

"I remember, back in thirty-four, we drove all the way back there in a twenty-six chevy. For my grandfather's funeral. Only time I ever saw the man. Laying in a casket."

Cash's mind drifted into the past. It was hard to believe that he had ever been that young. "He had two wooden legs. That's all I remember about him. He was some kind of mechanic on the railroad. One day he fell asleep under an engine he was working on. Somebody got in and drove it off… You know, the only other thing I remember about that trip is playing on a barge on the Erie Canal."

"Maybe you can go over there after we close this thing up," Segasture suggested.

"No. There won't be time. We've got to get back. Funerals."

And that was the story of his life. Always there was something that had to be done. Twenty-six months in Europe, with Uncle Sam footing the bill, and he hadn't seen a damned thing but the cathedral at Cologne.

Later, in Norm's motel room, Segasture opened a briefcase and passed out weapons. "I hope we don't have to use these. Try not to. Especially you, Major. They're legal, but we might have to do a lot of explaining. So wave them around if the feeling grabs you, but don't shoot. Norm, you want to ride out there? Look the place over?"

What he wanted was to go lay an ambush at the railway station. "What if she comes in while we're gone?"

"Christ! Don't be so damned anxious. We'll find out. If the cabbies can't get ahold of me, they know who to call at the Rochester P.O. They've got to be in on the edges of this thing anyway. It's their turf."