Hurricane Hole by John Kerr

Author:John Kerr [Kerr, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, Espionage, Romance, Historical, General
ISBN: 9780709099055
Google: AjhILgEACAAJ
Amazon: 0709099053
Barnesnoble: 0709099053
Goodreads: 17263997
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2012-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

The crunch of fresh snow under Hamilton’s shoes and a deep cobalt sky never failed to evoke memories of his boyhood in Oklahoma, walking home from school with his sister, or hunting rabbits in the country on a bright winter day with his dad. Squaring his shoulders, he walked up to the entrance to Washington’s venerable Metropolitan Club and opened the intricately carved door. After checking in his coat and hat, he approached the maitre d’ and said, ‘I’m meeting Colonel William Donovan….’

‘This way,’ said the maitre d’ without hesitation. Hamilton followed the man through the high-ceilinged lobby where silver-haired men in dark suits or the uniforms of senior army and navy officers were buzzing with the conversation of wartime Washington. Beyond the library, he showed Hamilton to a private dining-room with a fire burning brightly in the corner fireplace. Seated alone, Donovan looked up from his newspaper and said, ‘Hello, Hamilton. Have a seat.’

The maitre d’ asked, ‘Something to drink, gentlemen?’

‘An Old Fashioned,’ said Donovan. He looked every bit the Wall Street lawyer in a navy-blue three-piece suit and regimental tie.

‘Beefeater martini, on the rocks,’ said Hamilton. He glanced at the nautical brass clock on the mantel, the prints of racing sloops on the walls. ‘Very nice,’ he said.

Donovan nodded. ‘Best food in town. But unless you’ve got one of these private rooms, there’s no decent place to talk, with all the politicians and brass hats. Well, Hamilton … how have you been getting along with the boys in R and A?’ In the scant six months OSS had been in existence, Donovan had recruited a large team of academics into the Research and Analysis Department, conducting global economic analysis on a hitherto unheard of scale.

‘That stuff’s way over my head,’ said Hamilton. ‘They’ve just completed a study of the entire German industrial requirement for ball-bearings. But they were helpful in digging into the different enterprises Ericsson has his hands in.’

A uniformed waiter entered the room and served their drinks. ‘You gentlemen ready to order?’ he asked.

‘I’ll have the lamb chops,’ said Donovan, as Hamilton hurriedly scanned the small printed menu, ‘with scalloped potatoes and mixed vegetables.’

‘The fried chicken,’ said Hamilton.

‘A votre santé,’ said Donovan, lifting his glass.

‘Cheers,’ replied Hamilton, swirling his martini.

‘I understand Ericsson’s been active in South America,’ said Donovan when they were alone again. ‘Particularly Peru.’

‘He’s back and forth to Lima,’ said Hamilton, ‘along with trips to Mexico, though we don’t know much beyond that.’

‘I’m still considering sending you down there,’ said Donovan. Hamilton took a sip and looked expectantly across the table. Anticipating Hamilton’s objection, Donovan said, ‘Nassau’s too risky. I’ve also spoken to Menzies in London and he shares Sir Philip’s assessment of the Duke of Windsor.’

‘But, sir,’ protested Hamilton.

‘The British can send in one of their own agents,’ continued Donovan.

Hamilton stared absently into the fire, listening to the hiss and pop of the embers as images of Greycliff filled his mind. ‘If I might make a suggestion, sir,’ he said at length, looking back into Donovan’s blue eyes.

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