Page 213 of Winter of the World (The Century 2)

Greg nodded, remembering that thousand-watt smile. "I just want her address, so I can write her a letter."

"I don't need to know what you want the information for."

"Suits me." Is it really this easy? Greg thought.

"I charge ten bucks a day, with a two-day minimum, plus expenses."

It was less than Greg had expected. He took out his billfold and gave Cranmer a twenty.

"Thanks," said the detective.

"Good luck," said Greg.

ii

Saturday was hot, so Woody went to the beach with his brother, Chuck.

The whole Dewar family was in Washington. They had a nine-room apartment near the Ritz-Carlton hotel. Chuck was on leave from the navy, Papa was working twelve hours a day planning the summit meeting he referred to as the Atlantic Conference, and Mama was writing a new book, about the wives of presidents.

Woody and Chuck put on shorts and polo shirts, grabbed towels and sunglasses and newspapers, and caught a train to Rehoboth Beach, on the Delaware coast. The journey took a couple of hours, but this was the only place to go on a summer Saturday. There was a wide stretch of sand and a refreshing breeze off the Atlantic Ocean. And there were a thousand girls in swimsuits.

The two brothers were different. Chuck was shorter, with a compact, athletic figure. He had their mother's attractive looks and winning smile. He had been a poor student at school, but he also displayed Mama's quirky intelligence, always taking an off-center view of life. He was better than Woody at all sports except running, where Woody's long legs gave him speed, and boxing, in which Woody's long arms made him nearly impossible to hit.

At home, Chuck had not said much about the navy, no doubt because the parents were still angry with him for not going to Harvard. But alone with Woody he opened up a bit. "Hawaii is great, but I'm really disappointed to have a shore job," he said. "I joined the navy to go to sea."

"What are you doing, exactly?"

"I'm part of the signal intelligence unit. We listen to radio messages, mainly from the Imperial Japanese Navy."

"Aren't they in code?"

"Yes, but you can learn a lot even without breaking the codes. It's called traffic analysis. A sudden increase in the number of messages indicates that some action is imminent. And you learn to recognize patterns in the traffic. An amphibious landing has a distinctive configuration of signals, for example."

"That's fascinating. And I bet you're good at it."

Chuck shrugged. "I'm just a clerk, annotating and filing the transcripts. But you can't help picking up the basics."

"How's the social life in Hawaii?"

"Lots of fun. Navy bars can get pretty riotous. The Black Cat Cafe is the best. I have a good pal, Eddie Parry, and we go surfboarding on Waikiki Beach every chance we get. I've had some good times. But I wish I was on a ship."

They swam in the cold Atlantic, ate hot dogs for lunch, took photos of each other with Woody's camera, and studied the swimsuits until the sun began to go down. As they were leaving, picking their way through the crowd, Woody saw Joanne Rouzrokh.

He did not need to look twice. She was like no other girl on the beach, nor indeed in Delaware. There was no mistaking those high cheekbones, that scimitar nose, the luxuriant dark hair, the skin the color and smoothness of cafe au lait.

Without hesitation he walked straight toward her.

She looked absolutely sensational. Her black one-piece swimsuit had spaghetti straps that revealed the elegant bones of her shoulders. It was cut straight across her upper thighs, showing almost all of her long, brown legs.

He could hardly believe that he had once taken this fabulous woman in his arms and smooched her like there was no tomorrow.

She looked up at him, shading her eyes from the sun. "Woody Dewar! I didn't know you were in Washington."

That was all the invitation he needed. He knelt on the sand beside her. Just being this close made him breathe harder. "Hello, Joanne." He glanced briefly at the plump brown-eyed girl beside her. "Where's your husband?"

She burst out laughing. "Whatever made you think I was married?"

He was flustered. "I came to your apartment for a party, a couple of summers back."

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