Redemption - Leon Uris [301]
Caroline was much taken by Rory, but she was nobody’s fool. Running the vast operations as she did, and being raised and living in an atmosphere of constant conspiracy, she got the scent of Rory’s hiding something. What it probably was, in her mind, was a childhood pain of some sort he didn’t care to be open about. It was something, though. Whatever it was, Caroline decided to let the days pile up without probing.
On the other hand, Caroline had intimated from the beginning that there was something about Gallipoli she and her father needed to know.
At the end of a week, Rory told Caroline he was going to make his little round of the country. He promised to return to Rathweed Hall, of a certainty.
She gave him a set of keys to her townhouse on Merrion Square in Dublin. “Bachelor officers’ quarters can be a bit stuffy and confining. Now, I want you to take these keys and feel it is your home, like you and my lads were cousins. Come and go as you want, Rory. And have yourself a party or two, girls welcome.”
Rory blushed. Imagine his mom ever saying anything like that to him. “You’re like my Georgia,” he said. He went up to pack after promising to phone her regularly, and to return.
As he threw the last of his gear in his bag, Caroline came to his parlor. “Can we have an up-front talk before you leave?”
“Of course.”
“I mean, up-front.”
Oh hell. What did she already know? What did she suspect?
“I’ll tell you what’s on my mind,” she said before he could chart a course. “You have alluded to the fact that you may be here in Ireland for some time. I know, firsthand, how General Brodhead feels about you. We went through the same experience with Chris. Are you going on his staff?”
“Jesus Christ, Caroline. I didn’t want to bring the General into too much of the conversation this week because I didn’t know if it was the right or wrong thing to do. Yes, he’s asked me to join his staff and part of my wandering about now is to think it over. You’d certainly be the first to know if I did.”
Caroline stared at him without comment.
“All right,” he said, “he and your late husband were cronies, I gather?”
“Yes, very much so, identical twins—one in a factory owner’s cutaway and the other in military uniform.”
“Knowing from Jeremy of your unhappy marriage, I didn’t feel right in bringing up anything of that nature.”
“That’s very good of you, Rory. But what has Llewelyn Brodhead to do with Roger Hubble?”
“He’s got the hots for you.”
Rory was fairly shocked that Caroline didn’t so much as blink an eye.
“I was once very beautiful…”
“You still are.”
“Cut it out. Anyhow, I’ve had lads in heat sniffing around me all my life, Rory. Even though Llewelyn was close to my husband and always proper, I have long ago picked up on his ardor. He has a shipwreck of a wife and, beyond Ireland, a penchant for whores.”
“Brodhead? Whores? Do you know that or are you just saying it?”
“Weed Ship & Iron is into so goddamned many bedrooms, I’ve lost count. Espionage, industrial and otherwise, was a way of life. We once had a retired Brigadier running our intelligence service—fortunately he is deceased—who had the goods on everyone in the British Isles, and particularly Ulster.”
Rory held up his hands. “I’ll never try to lie to you again, Caroline. I should have told you I may be going to work for him. I’m sorry about that. It was just a bad call on my part. The rest of it. He’s hot for you. He told me to slip in the good word for him. I figured you already had that all figured out. The rest of it is your business.”
“Thank you, Rory,” she said, then dropped the other shoe: “We’re almost finished. My father and I want you to tell us about Brodhead at Gallipoli.”
“What about him?”
“We analyzed his testimony and reports to the commission. He lied to cover his ass, and don’t tell me you were only a lieutenant.”
“No, I won’t tell you that. He’s my general.”
“Good old boys club?”
“Whatever I say, good, bad or otherwise isn’t going to bring Jeremy and Major Chris back to life.”
“You don’t know us, Rory. We are