Chapters (27)
- Cover Page
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Part One
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Part Two
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- About the Author
“Don’t wait, Mr. Leland. This was really no fun for me. I asked him if MacIver ever talked about his personal life, his background, or anything that happened in college, as you told me. He said that MacIver had been very quiet about himself. He remembered that clearly. I asked what else he remembered. MacIver was friendly enough, he said. He liked to go out. He went to London and Paris whenever he could, with anybody who would go with him. When he was out he loved to have a good time—I’m not quoting; I think if Matthews ever said a word like ‘love,’ he’d throw up. MacIver would talk to strangers, he did say. Walk right up. Especially girls. He did very well with the girls.”
“Then you don’t have the feeling that Matthews held anything back because he was speaking to a woman,” Leland said.
“No, I don’t think so. One more thing that Matthews remembered was that MacIver said that being in Europe, seeing it, was the greatest opportunity an American could have. I said that he, Matthews, had been quoted in the souvenir book as saying that MacIver had been a brave man—words to that effect. He said, ‘Well, we came in at the end of the war. We really didn’t see much action.’ Then he said, ‘We shouldn’t have been in that war in the first place,’ and he went on to remark about Roosevelt and Truman. I kept my ears open, as you said, but I couldn’t hear anything unusual in that, for what it was, any hostility toward MacIver. It was strictly political.”
“That’s right. You did a good job.”
“You can’t tell me,” she said. “Ah, yes, would you answer a question for me?” Her tone was strained. “My mother is standing here and she wants to know who is going to pay for the telephone calls.”
He sighed. “You know what to do. Have the operator give you the charges. Make out a bill and then add five dollars for your mother’s trouble.”
“That’s it, you have the idea. Thank you, Mr. Leland.”
“You’ll be paid, too,” he said.
“I don’t have to be told. I’m sorry that Mr. Petrakis and I weren’t of more help. He told me to tell you that for him, too.”