The Charm School

going to the grocery store.”
    “Be careful.”
    “Yes, sir.” She turned and walked into her office.

 
20
    At six P . M . the telephone rang in Hollis’ office. “Hollis.”
    “Alevy. Are you free for cocktails?”
    “No. I have a dinner engagement in half an hour.”
    “You’ll have to postpone it for an hour.”
    “Then why did you ask? How is it that you’re running my social and business calendar?”
    “Only your business calendar. We have business.”
    Hollis surveyed the packing boxes around him. “I’m out of business.”
    “Oh, don’t believe everything you hear. You’re relieved of only your official air attaché duties. Did you really think you were relieved of your spy duties?”
    “No.”
    “My place in ten minutes. Do you know where I live?”
    “I’ll bet I could find it.” Hollis hung up and called Lisa’s apartment, but there was no answer. He buzzed his aide, Captain O’Shea. “Ed, are you working tonight?”
    “Yes, sir, until about eight.”
    “Okay, if Ms. Rhodes… do you know her?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “If she calls or stops by—she’s shopping in the city—tell her I’ll be… in my apartment, about seven-thirty.”
    “Yes, sir. Can you be reached between now and then?”
    “Perhaps.”
    “Will you be in the city?”
    “No, Captain, I’ll be here in the fort. Why?”
    “Just looking out for your ass, Colonel.”
    “At whose suggestion?”
    O’Shea let a few seconds pass before replying, “No one’s. I’m your aide.”
    Hollis hung up, and a few moments later O’Shea walked in with his slate board and wrote in chalk:
Gen. Brewer from D.C. has asked me to report on your activities.
    Hollis wrote on his own slate:
KMP
. Keep me posted.
    O’Shea nodded and said as though just walking in, “Excuse me, Colonel, I thought you’d want to know I’ve gotten calls from just about everyone in the resident press corps here, including the Brits, Aussies, Canadians, and some West Europeans too. They would like to know why you have been declared persona non grata. I referred them all to the press office, of course. But they all want to speak to you off the record.”
    “Did any of them mention Fisher?”
    “Yes, sir. They’re trying to find a connection between Fisher’s death, your trip to Mozhaisk, and you getting booted.”
    “Very suspicious people.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Hollis put on his overcoat. “If a Colonel Burov calls for me, transfer the call to me in Mr. Alevy’s apartment.”
    “Yes, sir.” O’Shea erased both slates.
    “Hold down the fort, Ed.” Hollis left and took the elevator down to the lobby, walked outside to the rear terrace, and cut across the quad, avoiding the paths. It was cold, and a light snow was falling from a luminous sky. Some of the housing units surrounding the quad were lit, and he could see families in their living rooms, the blue glow of televisions that were hooked to VCRs, people in their third-floor bedrooms looking out at the first snow. Lisa’s unit was dark.
    It was all so red-brick American, he thought, like suburban town-house condos, or family housing at an airbase or college. Peacefully boring and ordinary. Thinking back on his marriage and his life, he realized he had taken extraordinary personal risks, more than any normal man would have taken. Katherine must have drawn some valid conclusions from that.
    He came to Alevy’s door and rang the bell.
    Alevy showed him in, and Hollis hung his topcoat on a coat tree in the foyer, then followed Alevy up the stairs. “Snowing,” Alevy observed.
    They came up into the living room. Hollis had never been in Alevy’s place, and he was surprised at its size, not to mention its appointments. The apartment was done in the most opulent Russian antiques he’d ever seen outside of a museum. In addition to the furnishings, there were oil paintings on the walls, two Samarkand rugs on the floor, porcelain and lacquer pieces on every polished wood surface. A huge silver samovar sat gleaming in front of the window. Hollis commented, “Not bad for a mid-level political affairs officer.”
    Alevy hit a wall switch and background music filled the room, providing sound cover. The music was an orchestra of massed balalaikas playing folk tunes. Alevy responded, “My company pays for this. Nothing comes out of the diplomatic budget here.”
    “Good. I wouldn’t want to think the rest of us are counting paper clips so you can go into competition with the Winter