Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales, and socialite Wallis Spencer. David abdicates the throne to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney turns mercenary. David hires him as his valet. In their later years, the Windsors learn the pleasures of cuddling.
When Sidney knocked on David’s door the next morning he was disquieted when the Duke didn’t call out to him to enter. After receiving no response after a second rap, Sidney cracked the door and whispered, “Sir?”
Still no answer. He decided to make a discreet check to the loo for his highness before tapping at the connection door to the Duchess’s bedroom. She rose much later in the morning than her husband and could be found irritable if aroused too early. The loo was empty. Sidney was at a loss, until he felt a pat on his shoulder.
“Oh dear,” David said in a chipper voice, “I’m afraid I gave you a fright not being in my usual location this morning. He opened the medicine cabinet door to remove his tooth brush, paste, razor, shaving soap and brush. “Tell the cook I’ll have my usual breakfast—coffee, toast plum jam. No. Not jam. Orange marmalade. It reminds me of the Riviera.”
“Are you all right, sir?”
“Yes, Sidney. Best sleep in years. Oh. Don’t bother the Duchess. She’s still asleep.”
Within a few days, Sidney packed their luggage and accompanied them on an ocean liner back to Paris where Wallis at once started on her memoirs which she decided to call “The Heart Has Its Reasons.” She even invited Sidney to read chapters from her typewriter, after David had read them.
Sidney did not expect mention of their years with MI6, and, of course, he was right. Wallis described many of the places where missions occurred but not the missions themselves. He was rather surprised the five years they spent with Jimmy and Jessie Donohue were deleted, but as Sidney observed David lean over her shoulder as she typed and the tender caresses as they passed the pages, he began to understand.
Even at the parties they hosted, Sidney noticed the couple often glanced at each other. The look in David’s eyes belonged to a young man freshly and completely enamored. In Wallis’s eyes showed her concern David’s every need was met, and if he were in conversation she could tell the moment he became bored. She rushed in to distract him to another guest. And their behavior made him wonder why he bothered to notice.
The years passed quickly. Wallis’ memoirs were an international success, and were followed by a film documentary of David’s biography. Much of it was filmed in their garden at Bois de Boulogne in Paris. Sidney stood behind the cameraman to watch the couple continue a love affair which he had not seen between them when he came into their employ in the Bahamas. Sidney was impressed with the quality of the production. Orson Welles narrated it.
His own life settled into a pleasant routine, and Sidney sometimes forgot that he was a mercenary and not just the valet to the Duke of Windsor. Letters from the Bahamas reminded him of his other job. Inside the envelope addressed by Gertie(Jimbo had yet to catch on to how to write) was another sealed envelope which contained his payment from the organization to protect the Windsors. Sidney felt guilty about accepting the money, after all, he had not witnessed the least bit of aggression against the couple since Jimmy Donohue kicked Wallis in the shin. Gertie also enclosed a brief note saying his presence was needed to resolve some business matters.
Since the end of the war Sidney had begun an enterprise of growing the number of fishing boats. Old Jinglepockets retired, and Sidney wanted to make sure he had no worries in his final years. He figured the old man was not the type to quit, become melancholic and die in his sleep all in one fell swoop. By now Sidney had twenty boats. Jimbo recruited young men, taught them to fish and oversaw their progress. Gertie handled the books. They rarely needed Sidney’s presence so when they asked for it, he knew he must be there immediately.
He informed the Windsors he would be leaving for a few days in the Bahamas to attend to business.
“Of course,” David replied with a smile. “No problem at all.”
Wallis beamed. “I can’t believe how many boats you have acquired. We are both so proud of you. I’m so glad we were able to help get your business started.”
David jerked his head toward Sidney who smiled and gave a hint of a nod.
“Of course,” he replied. “I will always appreciate you.” Sidney knew the Windsors had done no such thing, but if the delusion made Wallis happy then he was willing to go along with it.
In two days Sidney had flown to the Bahamas, taken one of his fishing fleet boats to Eleuthera where he sat in the living room of his hacienda playing with the two sons of Jimbo and Gertie.
“Mr. Sidney, everythin’ is going fine. After supper I can go over the bank statements with you. Jimbo is good with the young fishermen. None of us will ever have to worry about fillin’ our bellies, that’s for sure.”
“Gertie, you don’t have to call me Mr. Sidney.”
“Oh yes I do,” she interrupted. “You are the boss and nobody’s goin’ to forget about it while I’m around.”
“But—“
“And how are those babies there goin’ to learn the right way to talk to you if they don’t hear it first from me?”
“You better give up.” Jimbo put his beefy arms around Gertie’s waist. “Gertie knows best.”
“And there’s somethin’ else, Mr. Sidney,” Gertie continued. “There’s this strange, skinny man with a nose like a hawk came snoopin’ around here. He said he had some business matter to discuss with you. That’s why I wrote you that letter. He gave me the extra envelope too.”
“I know who it is, Gertie.” Sidney kept looking at the boys as they wrestled in the floor. “Did he say when he wanted to meet?”
“At three o’clock down on the beach behind the house.” She paused. “If he’s up to trouble, then let out a holler and Jimbo will run out and beat him up for you.”
Sidney smiled. “I know who it is. There won’t be no problems.”
Wearing a casual top and slouch pants, Sidney sat on the beach at three watching a yacht on the horizon. A small motorboat sped his way. The man ran it up on the beach, got out and walked Sidney’s way.
He recognized him immediately. It was Alfred de Merigny. The years had not been good to him. Harry Oakes’ daughter Nancy divorced him a year after her father’s death. Cuba kicked him out as an undesirable and the only country who would accept him was some hell hole in Central America. It was 1966, and the world had forgotten he once had been suspected of murder. At least Merigny still had his money.
“The commander has a new mission for you.” Merigny eased down on the sand. Sidney assumed his bones were too brittle for a plop. “You will kill Jimmy Donohue this weekend in his apartment on Fifth Avenue. Make it look like a drug overdose.”
“I have a question for you.” Sidney continued staring at the waves. “How much longer can this organization continue? Am I the only agent left? It seems like it sometimes.”
“Remember, don’t ask questions.” Merigny took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “But you’re right. We offered to kill Kennedy three years ago, and they didn’t even reply.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “The commander is very old, likely to die soon. I expect to take over, and I will go in a new direction. Petty thievery and murder are beneath us.” He glanced at Sidney. “But you and your father did it very well.”
“I have another question.”
“What is it?”
“Why am I still being paid to protect the Windsors?”
“It’s the commander’s wish.”
That night Sidney took a boat to Miami, and the next morning he boarded a plane for New York. By next evening Sidney checked into a Harlem hotel. For his disguise, he selected a black tuxedo, black ruffled shirt, black shoes; and purple nail polish, eye shadow and lipstick. A black slouch hat dipped down over one eye. Sidney approved when he saw himself in the bedroom mirror. Over the years of the friendship between the Windsors and Jimmy, Sidney had observed Jimmy’s choice of midnight escorts. This appearance would certainly lure him.
Sidney left the hotel and walked down the street until he found a gang huddled in shadows down a side street. He went straight to them. Opening his jacket, Sidney revealed a high-powered revolver in a holster and then ordered heroin and a syringe with such conviction the gang nodded and produced the goods at once. After he handed over a stack of bills, Sidney walked swiftly away.
Next he took a taxi to Manhattan. On the street he saw a young man dressed almost as well as he was. However, the man on the street looked like he was waiting to be picked up. Sidney handed him some bills and asked the name of nearby clubs where wealthy men went to meet pretty boys with nothing else to do. The boy nodded and pointed down several dark alleys. After dropping in on a couple of the clubs he found Jimmy in the darkest of them all. Jimmy talked too loudly, touched the men who surrounded in inappropriate places and ordered another round of drinks for the house.
God, he looked fat and old. How old must he be now? This was 1966 and the last time I saw him was in 1954. He must be pushing fifty. It would be mercy to put him out of his misery.
Sidney took a table for one in a far corner and ordered a Cuba libre. He took his time sipping it. As Sidney suspected, Jimmy left his friends behind and walked straight to him. Jimmy’s face was absolutely aglow.
“May I join you?” Jimmy asked.
Sidney looked straight ahead. “This table is for one.”
“I can get us a table for two.”
“I don’t want to move.”
“I’ll pull up a chair.”
“Suit yourself.”
Jimmy dragged up a chair, sat and leaned into Sidney face. “You look great in purple.”
“I look good in anything.”
“I bet you do.”
“Or nothing.”
“Even better.”
“Are your friends going to get lonely?”
“I don’t care. I just met them ten minutes ago.”
“Tell me.” Sidney sipped his drink. “Do you get a kick from heroin?”
“I thought you were going to say cocaine,” Jimmy replied, almost out of breath.
“Cocaine is for sissies. So let’s get out of here.”
“Your place or mine?”
God, his chitchat is tiresome. I’m bored. I want to kill this guy now.
“Your place. I’m sure it’s much nicer than mine.”
“Eight Thirty-Four Fifth Avenue, baby.”
“That’ll do.” Sidney stood. “Pay the barkeep and let’s get out of here.”
Jimmy’s limousine was waiting just outside the door. They were driving into the parking garage within a few minutes. Sidney noticed the driver kept his eyes straight ahead. In the darkness Sidney had become the invisible man.
Jimmy led the way to the elevator and tried to grope Sidney but he pushed him away.
“Not now, sugar.”
Jimmy explained he shared the apartment with his mother but the suite was large enough that sometimes they didn’t see each other for weeks. He unlocked a side door and led Sidney to his bedroom. Once inside, he turned on the lights. Jimmy began to take his clothes off.
This game had lasted too long. Sidney slipped the syringe, already filled with heroin, from his inside jacket pocket. He paused a moment when he observed the room. The only furniture was an ordinary bed, but on the walls were thirteen framed photographs of Wallis.
When Jimmy bent over to take off his underwear, Sidney empty the entire syringe of heroin into his left buttock. Jimmy didn’t let out a sound but collapsed on the bed.
Sidney quickly left the apartment, went down the elevator to the basement, walked onto the street and disappeared into the night.