Jessie Donohue
Previously in the novel: Leon, a novice mercenary, is foiled in kidnapping the Archbishop of Canterbury by a mysterious man in black. The man in black turns out to be David, better known as Edward the Prince of Wales. Soon to join the world of espionage is Wallis Spencer, an up-and-coming Baltimore socialite. David kills an ambassador in Shanghai.
After her bizarre experience in China, Wallis returned to the United States because Win’s deployment in the Far East was completed and she had promised the Foreign Office to stay with the boozehound until they told her she could divorce him. The situation with Win’s increased drinking bothered her because, if he became too much of a sot, the Army would sack him and she would lose that delightful $250 a month. The British spy service had promised her money, jewels and luxury. She had not seen any of that yet. The agency told her to have patience. Wallis had never learned patience and she certainly was not going to start now.
Things perked up a bit when a MI6 message reached her while she played golf at her country club in Washington, D.C. She was visiting her mother who had married for the third time, the latest husband being a Veteran’s Administration official who made a comfortable living. The British contact dropped a note in Wallis’s golf bag.
“Plaza, week before Labor Day.”
Wallis and her aunt Bessie gleefully packed their bags and were off again. Bessie, worn out by the train ride, napped while Wallis unpacked at the Plaza. There was a knock at the door. When she opened it, she saw a maid.
“May I help, ma’am?”
“No thank you. I don’t need any help.”
The woman smiled and replied, “Oh yes, you do.”
They sat on the rim of the tub in the bathroom as the maid quickly informed Wallis of the Donohue situation. Her assignment was to bump into the Donohues and remind them they knew her uncle Sol, the clever inventor from Baltimore, and suggest they celebrate Labor Day together, since the Donohues knew the best night clubs in New York.
“Suggest to Jessie she wear her best gems for the evening out. Tell her you’ve always had a passion for glittering objects.”
Wallis’ thin lips creased into a serpentine smiled. “Maybe she’ll give me one.”
“Well, let’s not be too optimistic.”
The ostensible chance encounter took place in the hotel lobby with the best results; after all, social manipulation was Wallis’s specialty. The Donohues were instantly taken by Wallis’s sparkling personality and Jessie immediately agreed to the Labor Day outing along with the full array of accoutrement of diamonds, rubies and pearls. Wallis found Jessie a bit frumpy but James was a divine dancer. Of course all of her efforts were for naught. The jewels were stolen anyway, and Jessie did not offer Wallis one multi-faceted souvenir of the night. Wallis didn’t understand why MI6 was interested in the bloody baubles in the first place.
The next day Wallis returned to her mother’s new house in Washington, D.C. She paced in her room. What bothered her was the fact that she had not had the opportunity to torture or murder anyone yet. She thought she would have been given some Chinese opium dealer to practice on. No. Instead she was given the thankless duty of providing cover for the agent assigned to assassinate the ambassador. At least the part of being a belly dancer in the marketplace was fun. She had hoped to behead someone chasing the agent but the best she got was skimming her sword along the ground. The agent himself was not impressive. He was too short and thin, though his appearance played well in the role of an ancient derelict.
The person she actually could not get out of her head was the young black man in casual Caribbean attire running alongside of the British agent. She could tell he was aware of what was going on. But how would he know the ambassador was going to die? Who did he work for?
Her ruminations were interrupted by a knock at her bedroom door. When Wallis opened it there stood Win, trembling with his hat in hand. She invited him in and he entered hesitantly.
“Please, please give me a divorce.” His voice quavered. “Even the thought of a reconciliation has sent me into the bottle. I don’t care about my career—“
“Neither do I,” she cut him off as she lit a cigarette. “And I’m not the innocent little girl you married. I know I can take care of myself.”
“Thank you. I’ll start the paperwork now.”
“No.” Her voice was sharp. “We need three years residency in Virginia to divorce but even then we need a cause. You have to have an affair. In the meantime you will finance my living some place pleasant, out of the way. I enjoyed holidays with mother and Aunt Bessie to Warrenton in the Blue Ridge Mountains. I liked hiking in the forest. So many fascinating plants grow there.” She turned to Win and blew smoke in his face. “You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?’
“No,” he whispered.
“Good. You’re better off being stupid. Except for flying those airplanes. I don’t understand why you’re so clever with airplanes.”
“Neither do I,” he mumbled. “And thank you. I’ll even increase your allowance. But please stay away from me.”
Wallis smiled. She knew MI6 would contact her soon to inform her who her next husband would be. That did not mean a marriage would be imminent. Perhaps he would need a divorce from his current spouse.
“You can go now,” she told Win. “I have to shop for clothes. I have nothing suitable to wear in the mountains.”
“Of course. Anything you say. Thank you.”
After acquiring her new wardrobe, Wallis moved to a resort in Warrenton in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. She found agreeable people with whom to pass the day golfing and riding. In no time at all she became a regular at the most fascinating parties in town.
Wallis flirted outrageously with the best looking men, just to hone her social skills. One night at dinner the waiter placed a cup of coffee in front of her. When she lifted it she saw written on her saucer in dark chocolate, “Hike the waterfall trail.”
The next morning she followed the instructions and when she reached a point along the path where she could hear the water crashing against the boulders, a nondescript man joined her.
“Are you ready to meet your next husband?” He spoke in a soft English accent. A bit less sophisticated than a Londoner. Perhaps Northumberland.
“Of course I am.”
“He holds dual American and English citizenship. He doesn’t know about your MI6 connection. Generally he’s not a very observant person. He’s respectable looking and is wealthy from his family’s shipping business. The only drawback is that he’s married.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m married.”
“Both divorces can occur simultaneously. I think it’s time for you visit New York again.”