############Wally arrived back at his hotel shortly before noon to retrieve his bag and check out. As he was paying his bill of ten dollars, another man in a bowtie, this one a manager in the hotel office sweating from the heat of midday, handed him a telegram. Wally took his receipt and began to cross the lobby as he read the telegram. He stopped at the entrance, at the head of a circle driveway surrounding a gurgling marble fountain, when he saw that the telegram was from one of Yale’s henchmen he had met the night before, a man whom Wally would have assumed did not know where he was. The message read, “CANDIDATE FOUND. SEE YOU IN JUNE.” Wally crumpled the telegram in his free fist and marched down Seventy-Ninth Street to the parking lot along the Hudson shoreline.
############“Mein Führer.” Halstead looked up from a piece he was drawing up at his desk for the following day’s edition of the New Times, yet another piece denouncing the Diktat and this one warning of the dire consequences of allowing Freikorps units such as the Ehrhardt Brigade to be disbanded. “Yes, Putzi?” Putzi, now that he had the party leader’s eyes, slapped his heart with his fist in the party salute, and stammered out, “It’s a telegram from Hess. I can’t understand it.” |