Ultimate Issue by George Markstein Page B

heavily built man, and Verago disliked him instantly. He didn’t know why; maybe because he was with her.
    Since Verago had seen her that afternoon, she had changed. She had more mascara on, and she wore an eyecatching black-and-white dress, which looked expensive. Verago studied her. She had small breasts, a slim waist, and long attractive legs.
    What you should do. an inner voice told him, is go up to your room on the third floor, go to bed, read up the law on adultery, and have an early night.
    “One more,” ordered Verago.
    The barman only started taking notice of his customers when an officer had three or more double scotches. An Officer of the Day roamed round the Columbia Club, and it tended to be the barman who got blamed if there was trouble.
    “Yes, sir,” he said, his eyes signaling caution.
    The big man at her table whispered something to her and got up. He walked out of the bar. She sat, still with a drink, smoking a cigarette.
    The bastard’s coming back, thought Verago. Probably just gone to the men’s room, but he’ll be back. So what?
    Verago slid off his stool, glass in hand, and moved between the groups to her table.
    “Hello,” he said.
    The violet eyes looked up at him and she gave a smile. Maybe it was the scotch, but it seemed to him to be a welcoming smile.
    “Why, Captain Verago …”
    He looked at the empty chair.
    “Do sit down,” she invited.
    “I don’t want to intrude,” he lied. “I know you’re with somebody.”
    “That’s all right,” she said. She offered no other explanation.
    “Well, in that case….”
    He sat down on the other man’s chair, feeling a little awkward.
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    “Can I get you a drink?” he volunteered.
    “Tequila sunrise,” she said.
    He signaled a waiter and gave the order.
    “And a double scotch for me,” he added.
    “How’s the room?” she asked.
    ‘The roomy” Then he realized. “Oh, here? The room’s fined’
    “Good. That’s the least we can do for you. And I’ve ordered the car for tomorrow.”
    “Thanks, Laurie.” He added a little apologetically, “I don’t know your name….”
    “Czeslaw,” she said.
    “Czeslaw?”
    “It’s Polish. My folks were Polish.”
    “Laurie’s very American.”
    She stiffened. “I’m American, Captain.”
    “Pardon me,” he said. “And listen, my name’s Tony. Okay?”
    “Hi, Tony.” She smiled, and he felt warm. He didn’t think it was just the whisky.
    He followed the sudden direction of her eyes and saw the burly man making his way toward their table.
    Shit, thought Verago.
    “Clyde,” she said, as Verago reluctantly stood up. “This is Captain Verago. He’s over from Germany.”
    The man offered his hand. “Clyde Unterberg,” he said.
    Verago took it. The man had a firm grip.
    “Glad to meet you,” said Verago. He was doing a lot of lying. “I’m sorry, I’ve taken your chair….”
    “Don’t worry about it,” said Unterberg. He reached over and pulled a chair across from the next table, braving the hostile look of a naval commander.
    “Captain Verago is here to attend a courtmartial,” said Laurie.
    “Is that so? Not yours, I hope?” And Unterberg laughed.
    “I’m defending,” said Verago, unsmiling. “A man who’s accused of a ridiculous charge.”
    Laurie put out her cigarette.
    “Oh? What’s that?” asked Unterberg.
    “Adultery.”
    “You think adultery is ridiculous, Captain?”
    “I think to try a man for it and send him to jail is ridiculous.”
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    “Well,” said Unterberg, “maybe with you defending him, he won’t go to jail.”
    Verago sniffed. “Where the hell are our drinks?” he demanded. He gestured to the waiter. “What’s yours, Clyde?”
    “I like the same as you. Scotch.”
    Verago was surprised that Unterberg knew what he drank.
    “Where is this trial going to take place?” inquired Unterberg.
    “Laconbury,” said Verago.
    “That’s air force.” Unterberg shook his head. “What’s an army lawyer doing at an air