The Enemy

pointed, and he knew what was up there.
    “The George V?” he said.
    “Why not?” I said.
    “Is that on the army’s dime?”
    “More or less,” I said.
    “Outstanding.”
    Summer stretched up tall and kissed me on the cheek and shook Joe’s hand. We stayed there with the weak sun on our shoulders and watched her walk away toward the base of the tower. There was already a thin stream of tourists heading the same way. We could see the souvenir sellers unpacking. We stood and watched them in the distance. Watched Summer get smaller and smaller as she got farther away.
    “She’s very nice,” Joe said. “Where did you find her?”
    “She was at Fort Bird.”
    “You figured out what’s going on there yet?”
    “I’m a little closer.”
    “I would hope you are. You’ve been there nearly two weeks.”
    “Remember that guy I asked you about? Willard? He would have spent time with Armored, right?”
    Joe nodded. “I’m sure he reported to them direct. Fed his stuff straight into their intelligence operation.”
    “Do you remember any names?”
    “In Armored Branch? Not really. I never paid much attention to Willard. His thing wasn’t very mainstream. It was a side issue.”
    “Ever heard of a guy called Marshall?”
    “Don’t remember him,” Joe said.
    I said nothing. Joe turned and looked south down the avenue. Wrapped his coat tighter around him and turned his face up to the sun.
    “Let’s go,” he said.
    “When did you call her last?”
    “The day before yesterday. It was your turn next.”
    We moved off and walked down the avenue, side by side, matching our pace to the leisurely stroll of the people around us.
    “Want breakfast first?” I said. “We don’t want to wake her.”
    “The nurse will let us in.”
    There was a car abandoned halfway up on the sidewalk. It had been in some kind of an accident. It had a smashed fender and a flat tire. We stepped out into the street to pass it by. Saw a large black vehicle double-parked on the road forty yards ahead.
    We stared at it.
    “Un corbillard,”
Joe said.
    A hearse.
    We stared at it. Tried to figure which building it was waiting at. Tried to gauge the distance. The head-on perspective made it difficult. I glanced upward at the rooflines. First came a limestone Belle Époque facade, seven stories high. Then a drop to my mother’s plainer six-story building. I traced my gaze vertically all the way down the frontage. To the street. To the hearse. It was parked right in front of my mother’s door.
    We ran.
    There was a man in a black silk hat standing on the sidewalk. The street door to my mother’s building was open. We glanced at the man in the hat and went in through the door to the courtyard. The concierge was standing in her doorway. She had a handkerchief in her hand and tears in her eyes. She paid us no attention. We headed for the elevator. Rode up to five. The elevator was agonizingly slow.
    The door to the apartment was standing open. I could see men in black coats inside. Three of them. We went in. The men in the coats stood back. They said nothing. The girl with the luminous eyes came out of the kitchen. She looked pale. She stopped when she saw us. Then she turned and walked slowly across the room to meet us.
    “What?” Joe said.
    She didn’t answer.
    “When?” I said.
    “Last night,” she said. “It was very peaceful.”
    The men in the coats realized who we must be and shuffled out into the hallway. They were very quiet. They made no noise at all. Joe took an unsteady step and sat down on the sofa. I stayed where I was. I stood still in the middle of the floor.
    “When?” I said again.
    “At midnight,” the girl said. “In her sleep.”
    I closed my eyes. Opened them again a minute later. The girl was still there. Her eyes were on mine.
    “Were you with her?” I said.
    She nodded.
    “All the time,” she said.
    “Was there a doctor here?”
    “She sent him away.”
    “What happened?”
    “She said she felt well. She went to bed at eleven. She slept an hour, and then she just stopped breathing.”
    I looked up at the ceiling. “Was she in pain?”
    “Not at the end.”
    “But she said she felt well.”
    “Her time had come. I’ve seen it before.”
    I looked at her, and then I looked away.
    “Would you like to see her?” the girl said.
    “Joe?” I said. He shook his head. Stayed on the sofa. I stepped toward the bedroom. There was a mahogany coffin set up on velvet-padded trestles next to