The Charm School

he’d be helpful for a change. He said, “The car needs a lot of body work too.”
    Banks turned to him. “Body work?”
    “Just hit a tree. Damage to the tree was minimal.”
    “Good.” Banks cleared his throat and said, “So…” He looked at Lisa, then back to Hollis, and he put a stern tone in his voice. “Neither of you returned to your quarters last night, and neither of you informed this embassy of your whereabouts. That is contrary to regulations as well as a dangerous breach of security, not to mention the element of personal danger to yourselves.” Banks looked from one to the other. “Do either of you have an explanation for this? Miss Rhodes?”
    Lisa replied, “We were together obviously. We were unable to finish our business in Mozhaisk by nightfall. There was no room at the inn—actually there was no inn—so we spent the night on a
kolhoz
—that’s a collective farm, Charles. There was no telephone there.”
    Banks said, “I appreciate the special conditions that exist in the countryside here. But it is your obligation to keep in contact with this embassy, not vice versa.”
    Hollis spoke. “As the senior person, I’ll take responsibility for the breach.”
    Banks nodded, satisfied.
    Alevy said, “I don’t quite understand how you two got such a late start and failed to complete this routine assignment before dark.”
    Hollis replied, “Lot of paperwork involved, Seth. Drop it.”
    But Alevy continued, “How did you wind up on a collective? Why didn’t you call from Mozhaisk?”
    Hollis looked directly at Alevy. “I don’t think Mr. Banks wants to be bored with those details.”
    Alevy nodded. “Right. Perhaps later you can bore me.” He looked at Lisa a moment, then turned back to Banks. “Sir?”
    Banks addressed Lisa. “The ambassador is writing an official letter of condolence to Mr. Fisher’s parents. I would like you to write a personal note indicating that you were involved with the disposition of the remains and the personal effects and so forth. And that the Soviet authorities assured you that Gregory Fisher died instantly and suffered no pain and so forth. There are sample letters on file.”
    “Sample letters of personal notes from me?”
    “No,” Banks replied coolly. “Sample personal condolence notes… .” Banks seemed to grasp the contradiction in that, so he said, “Personalize the sample.”
    Lisa tapped her fingers on the table, then replied, “Shall I tell them I spoke to their son before his death? That he called this embassy from the Rossiya Hotel and asked for help?”
    “Certainly not. I just told you what to write, Miss Rhodes.” Banks added, “Perhaps Colonel Hollis will write a similar letter to the deceased’s parents.”
    Hollis replied, “I’ll study the samples.”
    Lisa looked at Hollis, then at Alevy and Banks. She said, “I have phone messages on my desk from Peter Stills of
The New York Times
, Faith Lowry of
The Washington Post
, Mike Salerno of the Pacific News Bureau, and four or five other news agencies. Apparently in my absence someone in my department issued a press release regarding Gregory Fisher. Apparently, too, some journalists smell a bigger story.”
    Banks leaned toward her. “There is no story beyond the fact that an American tourist died in an automobile accident.”
    “If the auto accident had happened in France or England that would not be news,” Lisa said. “But in the Soviet Union, people get curious. This is a curious country, Charles. You may have noticed.” She added, “That’s why we sit in windowless rooms like this when we talk. It’s not paranoia; it’s reality, though no one in the West would believe half of it.”
    At length Charles Banks responded, “Your office has indeed issued a press release. They may issue another if new facts warrant it. Kay is handling the press on this. You are not assigned to this story.”
    Lisa drew a deep breath. “Why didn’t the press release give all the facts? The call from the Rossiya—”
    Alevy cut in. “We may reveal that in time. For now, we’re not going to. We’re as aware as you are that there is more to this. But we’re trying to get the facts before we make any accusations. You appreciate the current diplomatic thaw. Trust us.”
    Lisa nodded reluctantly.
    Hollis took a piece of paper from his pocket, a decoded radio message. “I sent a query to Defense yesterday asking if a Major Jack or John Dodson was on the Vietnam MIA list.