Tag Archives: Duke and Duchess of Windsor

David, Wallis and the Mercenary, Chapter Ninety-Six

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. Sidney begins affair with another mercenary Aline. He murders Aline, because she shot his father, and kills her boss Harry because he bungled the orders.
Less than a week had passed since the murders of Harry Oakes and his assistant Aline, and David found himself lost in thought sitting in his office at the Governor’s Palace. The richest man in the Bahamas had been killed in a most horrible fashion, and David couldn’t comprehend the cause.
Harry was a bumbling fool, and bumbling fools rarely drew the attention of MI6. His murder was the same. Whether Harry were dead or not didn’t matter much in a world being torn asunder by war. As far as anyone knew, Harry had few or no connections with Nazis. Oh, he might play golf with another industrialist who was a member of the Nazi Party just because his business’s future depended on it. But they weren’t vigorous supporters of Hitler.
Then there was the organization, the mysterious international crime syndicate whose ruthless tactics matched what happened to Harry, and David saw some possible motivation. The organization would be the group to kill Harry to get hold of his money. His business partner Harold Christie was cheating Harry out of profits on the airfield projects. But if Harry found out, would not that be reason for Harry to kill Harold, not the other way around?
David shook his head, as though a thick moss of cobwebs clung to each crevice of his brain. What actually engrossed his thoughts was the image of Aline’s body. He felt drawn to the morgue to view her. Hours in the ocean marred her corpse but he still saw her as a vibrant beautiful woman who made his middle-aged life seem young again.
He couldn’t forget her burn marks from being struck by lightning. David also couldn’t dismiss the dark bruise marks on her wrists made by powerful hands. The local authorities dismissed Aline’s death as a suicide but why were the bruise marks there?
David hated himself for dwelling on her death. It wasn’t as if the young woman was destined to become the love of his life. He had been romantically involved with women since he was a teen-ager, and most of them were more meaningful on a spiritual level than Aline. Her candle on the altar of lust burned too bright to last too long. She was his last roar of manhood, and it was over before it had reached its peak.
Once again he felt guilt. His romantic inclinations toward Wallis were never fully developed. He knew all of her physical secrets and knew no sexual contact could ever happen. Yet, as the years passed he found himself feeling protective of her feelings. He knew she put up a brave façade of viewing life as one wonderful farce. And when candlelight hit Wallis’s face just right, she did look beautiful to him.
A knock at the door make him jump.
“Come in.”
The door man bowed and announced, “Count Alfred de Merigny is here to see you, Your Highness.”
David frowned. If there were one person who might have a solid reason to murder Harry Oakes, it would be Alfred de Merigny who married Harry’s daughter Nancy. Harry couldn’t be in the same room with his son-in-law but only a few moments without exchanging hot words.
Having a conversation with a possible murder suspect in his private office was, of course, the worst possible scenario. David’s mind scrambled. Where should he have this visit?
First he left his office and walked to the vestibule where he noticed Merigny slipped an envelope under a vase of freshly cut tropical flowers sitting on a large round table in the middle of the room. Upon seeing the duke, Merigny walked to him and gave an elegant bow.
“My condolences on the passing of your father-in-law,” David said in a loud voice so that any nearby servant could hear him.
“I appreciate your concern, Your Royal Highness,” Merigny replied in an equally loud voice.
“You are quite welcome,” he said. Merigny’s comprehension of the delicate situation impressed David.
Merigny stepped forward to whisper, “I have a private matter to discuss with you.”
“I’ve learned the best place to hold a private conversation is in front of the public. Won’t you join me on the front steps? The heat of the day will force us to keep our discussion brief.”
Merigny bowed again. “But of course, sir.” He opened the door for David.
After they were on the porch, Merigny spoke in a conversational manner, which proved to David the man was not unintelligent in the ways of public conversation.
“I have been told the authorities are on the verge of charging me with the murder of Harry Oakes.”
David’s mouth fell a bit. “I thought Harold Christie was the prime suspect, since he was the only other person in the house at the time.”
“They claim to have found my fingerprint on a Chinese screen in Harry’s bedroom.”
“Only one?”
“I think it was lifted off a glass of water they offered me during their initial interrogation.”
“And what do you want me to do about it?”
“I would greatly appreciate it if you, in your capacity as governor, ordered outside detectives, say, from Miami. My father-in-law was well liked by local authorities. I am not.”
David didn’t change his facial expression. “I shall see what I can do about it.”
Merigny was about to bow and walk away when David stopped him.
“Out of curiosity, could you please tell me what you were doing the night Harry Oakes died?”
Merigny’s long narrow face took on the appearance of a child telling his father why he was late coming home from school. “I was hosting a party at my own home. I haven’t been in Harry’s house for two years. We argue so much we thought it better that way. When the storm broke out, I offered to drive my guests home. I have witnesses to prove my whereabouts at the time of the murder.” He paused to smile. “All my friends are quite reputable. Their testimony will hold up in court.”
David didn’t return his smile. “How convenient for you.”
Bowing, Merigny lightly descended the steps. David watched as he disappeared in the crowd.
His alibi is very convenient indeed. It is as though he knew he would have to have one. He may have actually been framed by the authorities with the lifted fingerprint, but that does not preclude his hiring someone to kill Harry for him. Perhaps someone from the organization?
As for his request for outside detectives, David could find no fault in it. Rumors on the street were rampant that Harry gave generous gifts to Nassau officers from time to time. David could easily explain why he intervened to provide detectives who had not been paid off by the victim.
Upon entering the palace, David paused a moment when he noticed the vase on the big round table in the middle of the vestibule.
The envelope was gone.

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Ninety-Four

Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. David hires him as his valet. Sidney begins affair with another mercenary Aline. He learns Aline killed his father.
Spring of 1943 passed without much disturbance in the Bahamas. Since modest pay raises had been given the construction workers, no more riots had occurred. The Windsors traveled to the United States as often as possible. Of course, they always had a good reason—one time they attended a session of Congress where Winston Churchill spoke. They were delighted to receive more applause than the prime minister. The Duchess continued her charitable work with the servicemen, and the Duke tried to negotiate with the American government to allow impoverished natives to go work in the states. Sidney continued his assignations with Aline.
Of course, he loathed her and in his mind contrived ways to murder her. But he was a man in his late teen-age years. He often thought of how much his life had changed since he was sixteen and had to deal with the death of his parents, killing three men to save his own life and joining a mysterious illegal organization. He may have been only nineteen but his hormones were at their full capacity, and Aline was so available, so willing. He used to sleep with her awhile after intercourse, but now as soon as they had finished Sidney slipped from the bed and went back to his quarters in the Governor’s Palace. He had not noticed nor did he care if she had observed the change.
One steamy night in early July as Sidney put his clothes on, Aline spoke in a business-like tone as she lit a cigarette.
“The organization has decided it is time for you to carry out a new assignment.”
Sidney concentrated on buttoning his shirt. “What is it?”
“They have decided Harry no longer has any use,” she said, “in fact, he has become a dangerous liability.”
“Who told you? Merigny?”
Aline narrowed her eyes. “You’re not to know such things.”
He sat on the bed to lace up his shoes. “I wasn’t supposed to know about Harry, but you told me anyway. You told me Merigny was being groomed to take his place.”
“Did I?” She rubbed out her cigarette in the ash tray even though she had only spoked half of it. “I’m slipping. I’ve told you too much.”
Sidney stood and smiled. “That’s because you love me.”
Aline sat up in bed. “I do not.” She paused as though trying to think of a good argument. “I think you are pretty to look at. And you’re young and virile. A good release for all my tensions. But I don’t love you.”
“Anything you say.” He shook his head. “I don’t care either way. So. Do you have any plans regarding Harry?”
“In three days Harry is flying to Washington and won’t say why he’s going or who he’s going to see,” Aline explained. “He can’t get on that plane. The night before he leaves he’s having a few people over to his house for dinner, Harold Christie, Charles Hubbard and Mrs. Effie Heanage. The couple use Harry as a cover for their affair. They should leave the party early. Then would be a good time to act. The organization wants you to leave several clues, each bizarre and leading to different people so the authorities will be totally confused.”
“It’s not difficult to confuse Bahamian officials.” Sidney turned for the door.
“Don’t I get a good-night kiss?”
“No,” he replied. “I don’t see how one kiss could relieve tension all by itself.”
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
Sidney was out the door without answering.
The next morning he asked the Duke and Duchess at breakfast if he could have most of the day off.
“I haven’t been home to Eleuthera lately and I wanted to see if Jimbo and Gertie need anything.”
“Of course, you may.” The Duchess smiled. “You must really bring them to meet us someday. Don’t you agree, David?”
The Duke had his head in the newspaper. Sidney knew he hadn’t heard a word.
“Huh?”
“It’s all right if Sidney visits his home on Eleuthera today, isn’t it?”
“Of course, it is.”
Sidney went to his room to change into his native clothes and rushed down to the pier, hoping Jinglepockets hadn’t left for the day. He hadn’t.
“I haven’t seen you for a while,” the old man said.
“No, how are you going?”
“I am well. Do you have any troubles you don’t want to talk about?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll close my mouth.”
At the dock on Eleuthera Sidney handed him a couple of coins and told him to wait. With that Sidney walked straight down the path to his house, ignoring the neighbors’ greetings along the way. He arrived at the wooden gate and twisted the knob. It was locked. Good. Jimbo remembered his orders always to keep the gate locked. In the courtyard Jimbo was tending the garden. When he saw Sidney he smiled.
“Jinglepockets and me, we go fishing this afternoon,” Jimbo said.
“Are you learning the business?”
“Yes, Sidney. I learn real good.”
Sidney walked inside the house where Gertie ran to him and gave him a big hug. “Mr. Sidney, good to see you. Can you stay for lunch?”
“No, Gertie. I just came for a few things. In fact, if anyone asks you, I wasn’t here today.”
She nodded her head. “No, Mr. Sidney. No see you today, Mr. Sidney.”
Sidney wished she wouldn’t call him that, but Gertie was a stubborn woman and insisted on showing her respect. He just smiled and went upstairs to his room. Opening his closet he pulled out his father’s black pants, shirt and cap. He found his father’s old cigarette lighter and pocketed it. Every rich Nassau home had not only netting over the beds but also a spray can of insecticide on the bedside table. He pulled a large box filled with various weapons of murder, ranging from revolvers, knives, poisons and an item he had lifted from Harry’s house when he accompanied the Duke there one time, a miner’s pick. The pick was a souvenir from Harry’s mining days in Canada. He placed the items in a duffle bag, locked his door and trotted downstairs. Gertie waved from the kitchen door and Jimbo hugged him as he went out the gate.
When he returned to the dock he waved at Jinglepockets who began to set sail. Not a word was said between them during the trip, but the old man winked at him when Sidney disembarked.
He took back streets to the palace. Passing Aline’s apartment he noticed she had a white carnation in the flower pot. Sidney knew the Duchess would be occupied with Aline for the next hour or two. After Sidney went to his room, he hid the duffel bag in his closet and changed back into his valet uniform. Sidney presented himself to the Duke who read a document at his desk.
“My trip didn’t take as long as I thought,” he said.
“Huh?” The Duke looked up. “Oh, that’s good. I’m sorry for being so distracted. I want your opinion on something. You always seem to see things clearly.”
“Anything I can do to help.” Sidney bowed.
“The prime minister has asked me to go to Bermuda to govern there.” He paused. “I don’t like the idea. I think my family is trying to hide us in an even smaller place than the Bahamas.” He looked at his valet. “No offense meant.”
“It’s the truth. The Bahamas are a very small place. Opportunities are limited for my people.”
“We’ve grown quite fond of you. If we go to Bermuda, we’d like you to go with us. What do you think about that?”
“Whatever your Highness wishes.”
“No, I want to know what you think. This is your home. Even though your family is deceased, your memories of them are still here. And you are quite young. Considering all that, what do you say?”
Sidney had to admit to himself, the Duke made sense. Eventually the organization would want him to follow them wherever they go, but for right now, he preferred home.
“I think staying here would be best, at least until I am older, your Majesty.”
“Good. I think so too.”
On the night of Harry’s dinner party, clouds filled the sky, threatening to release a thunderstorm. Sidney guess the storm would arrive around midnight. He darted through the streets from shadow to shadow in his black clothing, holding his bag of weapons close to his body. By the time Sidney arrived, Harry stood on his front porch waving good-bye to Charles Hubbard and Mrs. Effie Heanage as they entered their car. Sidney knew dinner was over.
He had a cursory knowledge of the layout of the house from the time he was hired to be a servant at the welcome party for the Windsors three years ago. Sidney remembered the location of the smoking lounge where Harry and Harold adjourned to after dinner. Because the July night was steamy hot, all the windows were open. Sidney slipped through one in the dark hallway leading to the lounge. The door was open to allow a breeze to circulate. From the shadows of the heavy curtains he watched the men play Chinese checkers, all the while guzzling glasses of whisky. Sidney noticed the two men were already in their cups, knocking checker tiles all over the place. No true game could actually be played.
The servants, one by one, entered to announce they had finished their duties and were leaving. Harry barely had control of his head so he couldn’t give a proper nod, but he was able to slur an order for them to turn off all the lights. After the last one had left, the two men stood, leaving the checker board a mess and walked down the dark hall to their adjoining bedrooms. Sidney noticed Harold was as unsteady in his gait as Harry. Harold gave his friend a clumsy hug and entered his room. Harry entered the next door down. Sidney knew he must be careful and silent. Harold might hear something.
The hour of murder had arrived.

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Ninety-Three

Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. David hires him as his valet. Sidney begins affair with another mercenary Aline.
One bright December morning, the Duchess called for Sidney who was helping the Duke select what he wanted to wear to his meeting with the Bay Street Boys. Sidney knew the Duke didn’t need his help picking out a suit but instead wanted his impressions about the social and economic unrest in Nassau.
“My people are simple,” Sidney said. “They haven’t any concept of wealth and what that might bring. All they want is full bellies, a warm bed, clothes with no holes in them and, in the case of the camp people north of town, all they want is a real house which will keep out the rain. Will paying enough money to provide those things reduce the lifestyle of the Bay Street Boys? Well, the answer is up to you.”
The Duke tied the knot in his tie and looked at his valet with his squinty eye. “How did you get so smart?”
Sidney smiled. “My father was a very smart man. He stayed quiet and watched the people around him. He read newspapers, and he read newspapers to me.”
The Duke cocked his head. “Wallis is calling you. You better go.” He stuck his arm out to block Sidney’s path. “But first, I want to thank you. I wish my father had been as smart as yours.”
Sidney found the Duchess in the breakfast room.
“I know this is very abrupt but I’d appreciate it very much if you could throw a few things into your bag and accompany me to Miami. I’m doing my Christmas shopping, and I’ll need your help.”
“Of course, Your Highness.”
“The boat leaves at noon. I hope that won’t rush you too much. Of course it won’t. Men can pack faster than women.”
By mid-afternoon, she lounged in a deck chair while Sidney stood by her side, awaiting orders.
“Oh, do sit down. I’ll get a crick in my neck if I have to look up at you.”
After he positioned himself in the chair next to hers, he took out a notepad and pencil to take notes.
“The Duke and I feel it is very important to give proper gifts to our staff at Christmas. That keeps them loyal, if you get my point. This year we also have the Red Cross Volunteers, soldiers in the hospitals and the camp people north of Nassau and that’s where you come in. What would be appreciated by the butler would be totally useless to a homeless boy, as I’m sure you’d agree.”
“Yes, madame.”
“So, you have the pad and pencil. Write what you think they need.”
“Blankets, pillows, new clothing—nothing fancy, basic pullover shirts and pants tied with string at the top. Bandanas to wipe the sweat from their brows. Sandals. Raincoats and hats. Food that doesn’t rot overnight.”
“And for the children?” she asked.
“Dolls for the girls, and don’t make them too fancy or else their mothers won’t let them play with them. And balls so the boys can play rugby.”
“Any toy guns?” she added.
“No. We don’t want to teach them to shoot at people. They will learn that soon enough in real life.”
The Duchess settled back in her lounge chair and closed her eyes. “You are such a comfort, Sidney. Your parents must have been wonderful people. They taught you the right thing to say and to do at the right time.” She paused. “I wish I knew how to do that.”
The next couple of days was a whirl of shopping activities. Press photographers followed the Duchess of Windsor as she went from store to store. Sidney was careful to keep his face hidden behind stacks of packages. He didn’t think the organization would want his picture plastered in newspapers around the world.
By the evening of the third day, they returned from Miami with all packages being delivered to the Governor’s Palace by dock workers. After dinner, Sidney made sure the Duke and Duchess were settled into their suite for the night, and then slipped out of the palace grounds on the short walk to Aline’s apartment. When he arrived, the pot with the dead plant was by the door. He tapped.
“Is that you, Sidney?” Aline called out.
“Uh hum.”
Something must be wrong. She’s never said my name loud enough for anyone else to hear.
Opening the door, she pulled him in, slammed it shut and wrapped her arms around him. Aline kissed him over and over on the lips, his cheeks and neck.
“I’ve been so worried,” she murmured. “I didn’t know where you were. I knew the Duchess was going to Miami but I didn’t know if you went with her. I didn’t see you in any of the pictures in the paper. I didn’t dare go to the Palace, even when Harry wanted me to take notes of his meeting with the Duke. My biggest worry was that someone from the organization might have killed you.”
He held her at arm’s length by the shoulders. “Slow down. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating.” Sidney tilted his head. “I thought the organization was pleased with my work.”
Aline’s eyes widened. A frightened smile crossed her lips. “It is. But mistakes happen. People get jealous.” She rushed back into his arms. “You’re so young but I’ve grown to depend on you so much.”
“You better fix us drinks.”
“Of course.” She turned to the nightstand where she kept her scotch and glasses. “Have a seat on the bed.” Her hands shook as she poured the drinks and extended one to him. “To us.”
Aline gulped hers down while Sidney just held his and watched her.
“Something happened to scare you,” he said. “What is it?”
“You being gone so long. That’s all.”
Sidney put his drink down and began to take off his shirt. “It’s more than that.”
Setting her drink aside, Aline leaned in to him and whispered, “I love you. I’ve had sex with many men but I actually love you.”
I wonder how many times she’s said that before?
Her shaking hand went to her mouth. “I think I’m going crazy.”
“Hell, we’re all crazy.”
“I’ve been thinking about it. My mother had to become a whore but she was never an actual member of this organization. Harry’s been a member for years but he’s too stupid to go crazy.”
“So you want out?” Sidney tried not to sound cynical but he couldn’t help but believe she was trying to find out if he was working for both sides.
“Haven’t you ever wanted out?”
“No.”
“How about your father?”
“Let’s not talk about him.” Sidney leaned into her and kissed her. His hands deftly loosened her robe. She wore no nightgown.
After they made love Sidney rolled over and went to sleep, feeling slightly dissatisfied. Her desperate eagerness made him distrust her even more. As he drifted into a deep slumber, he heard her speak.
Oh God, I hope she doesn’t want to spill her guts again.
He rolled over to see her eyes were closed tight, her brow knit in anxiety and her shoulders twitched.
“I want out, Harry” she mumbled in her sleep.
Sidney deliberated a moment then took on Harry’s voice. “Why do you want out?”
“Ashamed.”
“Why?” Sidney continued.
“Killed Leon.”
Sidney’s body burned with rage.
“Why?” He was careful to control his voice.
“Mistake. You got orders wrong.”
Sidney wanted to take his pillow and suffocate her right then, but his instincts told him it was the wrong time, the wrong place.
“Help me, Harry,” she continued.
“Why?” Sidney asked.
“I’m in love.”
“Which one, the Duke or Duchess?” he pressed.
She grunted in derision. “Stupid old people.”
“Sidney,” Aline whispered. “I love Sidney.”
His stomach turned. He tasted acrid bile in his mouth.

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Ninety-Two

Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. David hires him as his valet. Sidney hosts a wedding for his friends Jimbo and Gertie.
Sidney walked to the pier and waved at Jinglepockets who was staring at the last rays of the sun. When he looked around, he smiled at his young friend and waved back.
“It’s a little late to be setting out for Nassau, ain’t it?” the old man asked as Sidney jumped aboard.
“I had an invitation to pay a social call this evening.”
“It’s that blonde-headed woman, ain’t it?” Jinglepockets asked. “She was dressed like one of us but she ain’t one of us for damn sure.”
“You’re right.” Sidney’s voice was serene as he gazed across the bay.
“You better be careful.” Jinglepockets squinted at him.
Sidney didn’t reply and the old man offered no more advice. When they landed in Nassau, Sidney took out two coins. He handed one to Jinglepockets.
“This is for the ride.” He pressed the other coin firmly into the old man’s palm. “And this is for your advice.”
As he walked away, he took out the note and followed the directions to her apartment. She was right. The neighbors were discreet. He knocked at the door.
When Aline answered she was wearing a red satin bathrobe and was combing out her hair. She let him in.
“You took longer than I thought.”
“Some of the guests stayed longer than I thought.” He took off his hat and coat and threw them on the sofa.
Aline stopped in her bedroom door, still combing her hair. “I didn’t tell you to get comfortable.”
“It was a long boat trip.” He removed his tie. “Very tiring.”
Putting down her comb on her vanity, she flipped off the lights. Torches that lit the courtyard cast a soft light through the window.
“In that case you must lie down.”
As Sidney removed his shirt and slacks, Aline let her bathrobe drop to the floor. She wore nothing but the glow from the window. Aline walked to him and put her arms around him.
“God, I must be a Bolshevik too,” she murmured as she kissed him.
“What does that mean?”
“It’s what my mother said to your father when they made love.”
Sidney lifted her and placed her in the bed and slid in beside her. “Did she tell you everything?”
“Of course she did. She was a prostitute. She didn’t have anything else to talk about.”
Without warning, Sidney pulled hard on the back of her hair. “No, the first woman my father made love to was born a Romanov and married a Ribbentrop. She made love to him for saving her life.” He stared into her eyes. “You see, my father did tell me everything. Never lie to me again.”
The next morning they both arose early because each of them had jobs to attend to. All Aline had to offer for breakfast was hot coffee and cold Danish.
“Thank you for the lovely evening.” Aline carefully applied her makeup and lipstick. “We must do this again, but Harry keeps me on a busy schedule.” She turned to look at him. “Let this be our code. Whenever a pot of dead flowers is by the door, you are welcome to enter.”
“Like the pot in front of my father’s house.”
She shrugged. “That was Pooka’s idea. Otherwise, stay away. It will be the prudent thing to do.”
Sidney nodded. His father taught him all about prudence. At first he wanted to kiss her, but decided he didn’t want a smudge of her red lipstick on his face.
“By the way,” Aline whispered, “I will never lie to you again.”
He didn’t reply, but walked out.
A few minutes later he was in his room at the Governor’s Palace changing into his valet’s uniform. Sidney found the Duke and Duchess breakfasting in the garden. They both looked to be in good spirits.
“Sidney!” Wallis exclaimed. “We weren’t expecting you back today! I’ve been to weddings where I wasn’t out of bed for days!”
He tried to hide a smirk since he had just come from Aline’s bed.
“I’m glad you’re here though.” The Duke finished swallowing a bite of poached egg. “I’m going out to the construction site for the two new RAF fields and I need you to take mental notes on what Harry Oakes and Harold Christie say.” He turned to appraise Sidney. “You seem to be good at that sort of thing.”
That was something else my father had instilled in me. Stay quiet. Listen. Remember.
Sidney turned to bow to the Duchess. “Will you be joining us today, Your Highness?”
I know she’s not supposed to be addressed by that title but it pleases her so much when I do.
“Oh, no, Sidney. I have a previous engagement.”
On the ride south of Nassau to the two airfield sites, Sidney wondered if Aline would be there. After all, she was Harry’s personal assistant. He wondered if it would be proper for them to exchange greetings, but decided such an exchange would be indiscreet.
When they arrived at the first site, Harry and Harold were waiting for them. They both wore big grins.
“Good to see you, Eddie,” Harry said as he pumped his hand.
A shiver went down Sidney’s spine. He knew he should remain silent, but Harry’s breech of protocol was beyond the pall.
“Excuse me, sir,” Sidney interrupted in a soft but firm voice. “No one ever refers to his highness in such a familiar manner. On first greeting it is Your Royal Highness and thereafter Your Highness.”
The Duke chuckled. “He is, of course, correct. We must observe our customs, shouldn’t we?”
Christie laughed but Harry was left speechless.
The Duke looked around. “Your personal assistant isn’t here. I thought you might want her to take notes.”
“Aww, she said she had a previous engagement. Whatever the hell that means.”
Upon their return to the Governor’s Palace, the Duke asked Sidney to go to the post office to see if his cigarettes from London had arrived.
“I smoked too many while enduring Harry’s prattle—by the way, did he say anything important?”
“Only that the fields are due for completion in late summer, Your Highness,” Sidney replied.
On the way back with the large bundle of cigarettes Sidney could not resist walking by Aline’s apartment. Outside her door was a vase of white carnations. When the Duchess returned that afternoon Sidney saw she wore a broad smile and a light blue summer suit with a white carnation in the lapel.
Summer passed into fall, and Sidney enjoyed his night visits with Aline when the pot with the dead flower was by the door. He knew it wasn’t love like his parents shared, but it was fun and he liked it.
One evening in late October he ambled by her door only to see red roses in the vase. He knew she had other lovers. They evidently proved useful for promoting her career. Sidney had just returned to the palace and went to check on the Duke in his office. He wasn’t there.
As Sidney went down the hall to his room he saw the Duke enter. He smiled at his valet.
“A lovely evening, isn’t it? The nice thing about living in the Bahamas is that I can go for a walk without a crowd around me. Quite refreshing.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Sidney noticed a red rose in his lapel.
By Christmas he was used to the routine he and the Windsors had arranged. The Duchess preferred morning trysts while the Duke preferred evenings. Sidney felt safe if the couple had a special evening arranged for visitors and his services would not be required.
As the Duke said, Sidney was very observant.

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Ninety-One

Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. David hires him as his valet. Sidney hires Jimbo and his fiancee Gertie to live in his house.
Sidney took his time putting on his new white linen suit he bought especially for the wedding of Jimbo and Gertie. The memories of his father in his white linen suit were among his fondest.
Oh hell, all my memories of my father were wonderful. I can only hope to live up to what he taught me.
Sidney looked in his bedroom mirror. Everything fit perfectly. Glancing at his watch he noticed it was time for him to knock on the bedroom door of Jimbo and Gertie. They decided they wanted Sidney to walk both of them down the dusty lane to the church.
Jimbo looked good in his white slacks and white shirt open at the collar. Gertie wore a pleated white skirt and a white blouse which hung off her shoulders.
Sidney liked Gertie. She was broad in the hips and had an ample bosom. Her smile could brighten anyone’s day, but if that person crossed her she could call on all the demons in hell to rain down torment upon them. She had planned to spend days scrubbing the house so it would make Sidney proud at the wedding party, but Sidney gave some money to hire neighborhood women to help her clean and to cook the wedding feast. When she protested she could do it all by herself, he told her it was a good way to get on the good side of the people who live close to her.
As they walked down the road local residents of Eleuthera tossed flowers at them. Sidney doffed his hat and nodded. Gertie picked up her favorite ones to form her bouquet. The crowd at the church door applauded as Gertie and Jimbo entered. Their camp friends from the hills north of Nassau filled the seats. Sidney had paid Jinglepockets to recruit as many fishing boat captains to transport them.
The Duke and Duchess not only gave Sidney several days off for the wedding, they also offered to attend. With a humble bow, Sidney declined, saying he wanted all the attention to be on Gertie. They both nodded in approval.
As soon as the bride, groom and host entered the church, all their friends stood, some wiping their noses on their soiled sleeves, but all done with the best of intentions to show respect. No one seemed to have remembered to bring instruments to serenade the couple. Out of nowhere a rhythmic patting on the wooden pews and an a capella aire floated to the rafters. Sidney observed the faces of Jimbo and Gertie as they let the music flow over them, and felt warm inside. They were, indeed, his family now.
The minister offered a few appropriate words and pronounced them husband and wife. As they marched out of the church, the crowd broke out in applause and huzzahs which matched the improvised music in lilting spirituality.
Sidney followed the crowd up the lane. He paused only a moment when he noticed a familiar face in the masses.
Aline stood there. She pulled her hair back and tied a scarf around her head. She wore a ragged blouse, dirty skirt and sandals, the same as she wore when she surveyed Sidney’s carnage at the hacienda.
The crowd pushed him along toward the gate to his courtyard. Once he was inside he saw Gertie standing on the step to the front door with Jimbo by her side. When the crowd heard her bellowing voice, it become still and obedient.
“Welcome to the hacienda to celebrate our wedding. Please honor the founder of the feast, Mr. Sidney Johnson!” She pointed to him standing by the gate.
Sidney enjoyed taking a bow. Gertie spoke up again to quell the crowd.
“Me and Jimbo are from the hills above Nassau so our camp friends are invited indoors, but do not despair. The same food will be served in the courtyard as inside.” She paused and turned serious. “Now this is Mr. Johnson’s home, and I won’t abide anyone messing up this courtyard. And my friends have a double warning. Not one drop of food on that nice furniture. And if I catch one person on that staircase I will not only kick you out of this house, I will kick you out of my life and you will become my enemy. Do you understand?”
The crowd was stunned into silence. Sidney himself was shocked until he realized she was using the exact words he had used with Jimbo who repeated them to her. He raised his eyebrows. She took her orders literally.
“I said do you understand?” Her voice took on the authority of God.
“Yes ma’am,” Jimbo mumbled.
She turned and slapped her new husband on the shoulder.
“Not you.” She pointed out. “I’m talking to them.”
A rippling sound went through the crowd.
“Yes ma’am. Yes ma’am.”
From a mumble it grew to a full-throated affirmation.
“Good.” Gertie smiled. “Now we understand each other, let’s have a party!”
Out islanders pushed past Sidney until he found himself alone. When he looked around he saw Aline still standing across the lane. She walked up to him.
“What are you doing here?” Sidney asked in disapproval.
“Do you mind?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
“This wedding is the worst kept secret in Nassau,” she replied. “I think it’s a terribly nice thing for you to do for your friends.”
“I needed security for my house now that I work for the Duke. What better way than to have a couple living here.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Aline smiled. “The organization is pleased you are working in the governor’s palace. What better way to protect him?”
Sidney looked around. “Let’s walk down to the beach.”
When they were far away from the laughter of the party, Aline told him, “The organization is unhappy with Harry. He’s stupid, loud and makes too many mistakes.”
“So what is that to me?”
The organization has chosen Alfred de Merigny to lead the Bahamian operation.”
“I thought Harold Christie was Harry’s partner.”
Aline shook her head. “That’s their real estate business. You have to think bigger when it come to the organization.”
“Oh.”
“De Merigny shows up a lot at the palace, doesn’t he?”
Sidney looked out across the ocean. “I’ve seen him there.”
“You still don’t trust me, do you?”
Sidney detected a crack in her voice which threw him off balance, so he didn’t respond at all.
“And you don’t like me.” Aline made her remark as a statement rather than a question.
“I thought the organization liked it better that way.”
She stepped in close. “I knew your father.”
“At the casino, I know.”
“Your father liked me.”
“I don’t want to know this.”
“You know my father.”
“I don’t care.”
“Harry Oakes is my father.” She breathed out in exasperation. “I hate him.”
“I still don’t care.” Sidney looked around at his house. “I should make myself seen at the party.”
Aline’s voice dripped with sadness. “I don’t blame you.” She turned toward the hacienda. “I’m so lonely.” Reaching into a pocket of her ragged skirt, she pulled out a note and slipped it into a pocket of Sidney’s linen jacket. “I have a lovely secluded apartment near the governor’s palace. The neighbors are very discreet.”
All the guests had left the party as the sun went down. Gertie was busy helping the hired women clean up. She had not quite caught on to the concept of being a boss yet. Jimbo took out bags of garbage. Sidney motioned them over.
“You two should be alone tonight,” Sidney said. “Jinglepockets is waiting for me at the pier.”
Jimbo shook his hand. “Thank you, my friend.”
“Did you see the blonde lingering outside the gate?” Sidney asked.
Jimbo shook his head.
“She wasn’t a guest, was she?” Gertie’s eyes narrowed.
Sidney’s hand went into his jacket pocket to caress the note. “If she ever comes here when I’m not around, don’t let her in.”

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Ninety

Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. Sidney saves David in a riot. David hires him as his valet. Wallis kills Kiki, the girl with the silver syringe.
Several weeks passed before Sidney was able to make himself walk across the hills to the encampment where Jimbo lived. Guilt which had never been part of his personality made him ashamed of hurting his friend.
Did Jimbo know I was the one who kicked him? And if he did, would he hate me? Jimbo was a big foolish boy, and my father taught me to look down on foolish people.
Foolish or not, Jimbo had become a member of his family and Sidney had to fill the bellies of his family, even big, foolish bellies.
By the time Sidney walked over the hills, the sun shone down directly over his head. It was time for lunch so Sidney headed to the spot on the road where the old woman sold her soup. She was not there.
“She died,” a familiar voice behind Sidney mumbled. “Out of grief for the young men who died in the riot. Many of them ate her soup every day.”
It was Jimbo. Sidney tried not to smile too much when he turned to see his friend.
“That’s sad,” Sidney replied.
“I cried,” Jimbo confided, “and not just for the soup. She was a good old woman, and old people die sooner or later.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I cried for you.” He hugged Sidney. “You knew. You told me not to go but I ran ahead anyway. Stupid me. I’m so slow that one of the others practically ran over me, kicking me in the legs. Some old man got me home, but I didn’t see you, I thought they had killed you too.”
Relief washed over Sidney. Jimbo didn’t know the truth, and Sidney wasn’t going to tell him. Sometimes being honest can be foolish too. Sidney patted him on the back. “Let’s get out of here. It’s too dangerous for good boys like us.”
They walked back to Nassau and found good food on the docks. Sidney looked out on the water and saw Old Jinglepockets waiting for him on his fishing boat, just as he had promised he would in the morning. The boys walked to his boat.
“Jimbo, this is Jinglepockets. He taught me to fish.“ Sidney smiled at the old man. “Jinglepockets, this is my friend Jimbo. Do you think you can teach him to fish?”
Jinglepockets flashed a toothless grin. “I can teach anyone who wants to learn.”
“And I want to.” Jimbo smiled, showing he still had all his teeth.
On the boat ride to Eleuthera, Jinglepockets rambled on like an old storyteller.
“Old Joe taught me to fish, just as he taught Sidney’s father to fish. Someday, young man, you will teach a boy to fish. You’ll learn to love the sea. It’s a beautiful place. Beautiful for your soul. Don’t be afraid. Most fishermen grow old and die in their sleep.” He pointed to Sidney. “His grandfather got eaten by a shark but that’s mostly stuff of folk tales. What you really should be afraid of are men who are too quick to flash their money around. They’re much more likely to kill you than a shark.” He paused to test the wind and make adjustments in his sails. “Now what is your name?”
“Jimbo.”
The old man nodded. “Jinglepockets. Jimbo. They go together. That’s a good omen, ain’t it? Jimbo, you work hard and when I retire, you can buy my boat.”
Jimbo frowned. “Buy your boat?” He shook his head. ”I don’t think I’d ever have that much money.”
“Don’t worry.” Jinglepockets squinted as he saw Eleuthera appear on the horizon. “You’ll earn it.”
After tying up the boat, Sidney and Jimbo walked down the sandy lane. People along the way paused to wave.
“Your neighbors are awful friendly,” Jimbo observed.
“Yes, they are.” Sidney stopped at his wooden front gate to unlock it. “But they are not your friends. Don trust them.”
They entered the courtyard, and when Jimbo saw the two-story hacienda-style house his mouth fell open.
“This is where you live?”
“This is where we live.” He unlocked the front door. “I own it.”
Jimbo was speechless.
They entered the courtyard, and when Jimbo saw the two-story hacienda-style house his mouth fell open.
“This is where you live?”
“This is where we live.” He unlocked the front door. “I own it.”
Jimbo was speechless.
“I now work at the Governor’s Palace as the Duke’s valet, so I need you to take care of my house. I’ll keep up with my bank account and pay the bills and you will do repairs on the house as needed and make sure you keep the house the way it looks today. You are now a fisherman and a house manager. You’re a very successful young man, Jimbo.”
“There’s something I haven’t told you,” Jimbo mumbled as he shuffled his feet. “After the riot and I didn’t see you and thought you was dead, I cried a lot. Gertie—she’s this girl that I grew up with—said she thought if somebody didn’t take care of me I was goin’ to drop dead. So we jumped the broom.”
Sidney frowned. “Jumped the broom? That’s what our grandparents did. You got to have a preacher marry you.”
“Um, the only religion we know anything about is Obeah and the high priestess died not long ago.”
“Yes, Pooka. She was an idiot. And Obeah is foolishness.” Sidney’s voice was stern. “There’s an Anglican church for native Bahamians down the road. I’m a member of the church so you and Gertie can get married there.” He smiled. “I’ll give you away. I mean, I’ll give Gertie away. Hell, I’ll give both of you away.”
“Then you don’t mind?”
“It’s the best thing for you.” Sidney paused. “Do you love her?”
“I always thought of her as a good friend until she wiped the tears from my eyes, and then I knew what love was. And it was Gertie.”
“Good. Now I have a housekeeper.” He stared at Jimbo. “She does know how to clean house and cook, doesn’t she?”
“Look at me. You’ve never seen me in clean clothes before, have you? She won’t let me out of our tent until it’s all straight. And she was about to take over the old woman’s spot on the road selling her own soup.”
“Good. We’ll go back today to bring her to Eleuthera,” Sidney said like a boss making a business deal. “But first I want to take you upstairs.”
They walked up, and Sidney opened the first door. “This is where my parents slept. Now you and Gertie will sleep here. It will be your private domain. Never let me enter unless I knock first.”
“Yes sir.” The respect in Jimbo’s voice came naturally.
Sidney guided him down the hall to his door which he didn’t open.
“This is my bedroom. It is where I have slept since I was a baby.” He paused to let the importance of his statement sink in. “Never enter this room. Never knock at the door. Never call for me to come out. If you hear my door open in the middle of the night do not check to see who it is. If you happen to see someone leave in the morning, forget what you saw immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go downstairs and wait in the courtyard,” Sidney continued. “I have things I have to remove from my father’s closet and take to my room. Do not ask what these things are.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If I discover you or Gertie have entered my room, our friendship will end, and you will no longer be a member of my family. You will be my enemy. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Explain this to Gertie. My room is the only room she is not to clean. I will clean it myself. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. And Gertie is much better at following rules than me.”
Sidney smiled. “Good. Then we will be all members of the same family, and our bellies will always be full.”

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Eighty-Nine

Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. Sidney saves David in a riot. David hires him as his valet.
As Wallis descended the ramp of the ocean liner at the port of Baltimore, cameras clicked. She ran her tongue across her teeth to make sure they were free of lipstick before smiling and striking a pose. Reporters shouted questions. Before moving on, she answered a few of them.
“I’m visiting my Aunt Bessie. She has been in declining health for some time, and she contacted me to drop in on her. I will not accept any social invitations during my visit.”
Bessie beamed when she walked in the door but her eyes went blank as she asked who her visitor was.
“I’m Wallis, remember? Your favorite niece.”
“Of course you are.” Bessie shook her head as though to brush away the cobwebs. “I’ve just gotten up from a nap and my mind is all fuzzy.” She paused as her eyes lit. “We must have a party while you’re here. We’ll invite your old friends from school—“
“But I wanted to spend my time with you alone.” Wallis patted her cheek.
“That might be boring for you, my dear,” Bessie replied. “I spend my time sleeping.”
Wallis laughed. “Well, I feel like a nap myself. The trip was quite fatiguing.”
“You go right ahead.” Bessie yawned. “I feel like resting my eyes too.”
When Wallis left the room, she whispered to the live-in nurse, “I really have business in Warrenton while here but I don’t want the newspapers to know if you understand what I mean.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
Wallis slipped her a few bills. “I’m sure Aunt Bessie won’t miss me.”
The Duchess took the midnight train to New York City. She wore her drabbest traveling attire and her overnight bag was so small it looked like a purse. Not a single reporter noticed she left Baltimore or arrived in New York. From the station Wallis hailed a taxi to take her to a seedy hotel. The next morning she went to a second-hand shop where she bought an old dress which could pass as a maid’s uniform. Then she bought a gray-haired wig and stage makeup at a theatrical supply store.
After she changed her attire and made herself look a decade older, Wallis sneaked into the servants’ entrance at the elegant Stanhope Hotel. She stood close to the room service phone answering it and responding the best she could to the clients’ requests. By sunset she sighed This mission she had assigned herself might take several days. The next call was from Lillian Turner, companion to Kiki Preston.
“Miss Preston would like a glass of milk before retiring.”
“But of course.” Wallis faked a French accent. “And what suite is that?” After Lillian replied, Wallis said, “I shall bring it right up.”
Wallis retrieved a glass of milk from the kitchen and called Kiki’s suite again, this time using an Appalachian twang.
“Miz Turner, this is the front desk and there is a delivery man who insists you come down personally right now to sign for a package.”
Lillian paused. “But I have a glass of milk coming up from the kitchen for Miss Preston right now.”
“Jest leave the door unlocked,” Wallis suggested in her twang. “This delivery man is being absolutely rude.”
“I suppose it won’t hurt.” Then Lillian hung up.
Wallis dashed for the service elevator and went up to Kiki’s suite. She slipped in the door and knocked at the bedroom.
“I have your milk, ma’am.” Wallis used her French accent. She stopped after entering and seeing Kiki in her pajamas. The former playgirl had gained weight over the years, and her face was puffy. Wallis put the glass on a table and strode toward her. “You look like hell.”
Kiki frowned. “Who are you?”
“Do you still have your silver syringe?”
Kiki clinched her jaw. “You are extremely vulgar.” She looked toward the sitting room. “Lillian?”
“Your friend isn’t here. No one to bail you out this time.”
“Leave my room immediately.” Kiki marched toward Wallis with her hand lifted to strike her.
Wallis knocked it away, like swatting a fly, then smirked. “Is that the best you can do?” Her face went blank. “You know George died.”
“Yes.”
“You have anything to do with it?”
Kiki tried to brush past her. “You must be insane.”
“Yes, I think I am. You have to be a bit insane to get along in this world.” Wallis pushed Kiki down on the bed. “We met once in a theater years ago. I told you to leave George alone.”
“I haven’t seen George since he married.”
Wallis saw fear enter Kiki’s eyes. “I don’t care.” She grabbed Kiki and pushed her toward the window. “You made his life hell. You have to pay.”
Wallis pushed her out the window and watched Kiki’s body hit the concrete. Blood flowed from her head.
“Bye, bye, Kiki.”
Going to the closet, Wallis pulled out a long plush coat and put it over her uniform. She took off the wig and brushed out her hair. In a few seconds she changed her makeup. Pushing the wig in a coat pocket, Wallis walked out of the suite. She saw an old woman leave the elevator, and Wallis turned the other way.
Back at the seedy hotel, Wallis left the coat, dress and wig under the bed. Wearing her drab traveling suit, she went to the station and caught a train to Warrenton. She spent the morning wandering through the Blue Ridge foothills gathering her favorite lethal herbs in case she might need them for some unforeseen situation. She stashed them in her overnight bag. By night she was back in Baltimore visiting Aunt Bessie again. After a long warm relaxing bath, of course.
Wallis stayed a few more days, patiently listening to Aunt Bessie ramble on about happier days. Over breakfast she read in the Baltimore newspaper about the suicide of Kiki Preston, socialite daughter of American industrialist Edwin Gwyn. She was related to the Vanderbilts. Wallis raised an eyebrow. She didn’t know that. Continuing her reading, Wallis did know what was written next. Kiki was addicted to several drugs which may have led to her suicide, police reports said.
Wallis smiled. Her plan had worked.
Another story did not make her smile. The newspaper reported the Duchess of Windsor was in Baltimore allegedly to visit her ailing aunt but experts on the British Royal family speculated the Duchess used her aunt as a subterfuge to buy the latest fashions.
Hmph. Baltimore doesn’t sell the latest fashions. Damn reporters. At least they don’t have any idea of why I really came to the States.
When Wallis arrived in Nassau, David was in conference with the Bay Street Boys, so she decided to spend the afternoon sitting in the private garden behind the Governor’s Palace. She was alone only a few minutes when Wallis heard footsteps behind her. Clicking heels.
“Duchess, I hope you don’t mind my intruding upon your meditations.”
Wallis looked up to see the blonde who came to David’s office with Harry Oakes. She smiled. The woman’s head seemed to be circled by a corona. Most of the time the other part of Wallis stayed submerged. Only a few women in her life had awakened it in her.
“No, not at all. Sit next to me on the bench.”
“My name is Aline.” She took her time positioning herself, crossing her legs just so. “I am Harry Oates’ assistant, but this visit is of a personal nature.”
“Oh?” Wallis held her breath. She acknowledged her depression over watching Aunt Bessie disappear even as she still lived. She also knew she had taken on David’s depression over the loss of his brother. This melancholia allowed her repressed feelings to emerge.
“While you were gone I accidentally ran into your husband. Once at the Rialto. He was having a solitary moment over his drink. I think he was missing you. A few days later we had a drink after a meeting of the Bay Street Boys. There were other encounters, I don’t remember where. The point is they were completely innocent.” She cocked her head and smiled in a shrewd manner. “People love to gossip, you know.”
Wallis laughed. “My dear, I’ve been married three times. I know all about gossip.”
“I think we spoke so often because we discovered we are distantly related.”
“Of course, because Victoria had so many children, almost everybody in Europe is related.”
Wallis’s eyes crinkled.
“Except I’m from Montana,” Aline added.
Wallis cackled. “You are so unpredictable! I just love you!”
Now why did I say that?”
“You see, my mother was a cousin of the Romanovs. She married a member of the Ribbentrop family, and they moved to Eleuthera.”
Ribbentrops. This is getting too personal by the minute.
“I thought only fishermen lived there,” Wallis mumbled, half stammering.
“That’s what they thought too. The Bolsheviks caught up with them and killed her husband. A local boy saved her, and she went to Montana. That’s where I was born.”
“Then how did you get to the Bahamas?” Wallis lit a cigarette.
“My mother died and I had to live with my father.” Aline paused. “I might as well tell you. My father is Harry Oakes.”
“You poor child,” Wallis whispered.
“He’s a crook.” Tears filled Aline’s eyes. “I know things…” Her voice trailed off. She stared at Wallis. “I’ve only met you, but I feel I can trust you.”
Wallis turned to Aline but refrained from hugging her. “Of course you can trust me.”
“I want Nassau to be honest, and it can’t be honest with my father in charge—yes, he’s in charge.” She paused. “I can tell you things I couldn’t tell the Duke.”
“Come to me with anything. I’ll protect you.”
“Thank you.” Aline put her hand on Wallis leg and smiled. “Silk. I’m not surprised.”
Wallis tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come.
Aline smiled. “I have a lovely secluded apartment not far from here. And the neighbors are discreet.”
“How interesting.” Wallis could not think of anything else to say.

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Eighty-Eight

Previously: Mercenary Leon meets MI6 spies David, the Prince of Wales and socialite Wallis Spencer. David becomes king then abdicates to marry Wallis. He becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Sidney becomes a mercenary. Sidney saves David in a riot.
A couple of weeks passed before normalcy returned to Nassau. Wallis arrived by ocean liner from New York City. David met her on the pier, hugged her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips as the newsreel cameras captured the expression of endearment for the whole world to see.
It wasn’t a bad kiss. Why they didn’t do that sort of thing more often? MI6 would mind. What it didn’t know wouldn’t hurt it. Oh yes. The damned newsreel cameras. They recorded everything.
They even captured his actions on the night of the riot. Now the whole world knew him to be the heroic prince of action. Except he wasn’t a prince anymore.
Wallis’s first appearance was at Red Cross headquarters, checking on how the children and elderly were faring after the riot. She gathered all the volunteers into a bus and with a contingent of police drove over the hills to the shanties and camps to hand out food, drink and hugs.
A knock at his office door in the Governor’s Palace broke into David’s thoughts. Before he could say come in, Wallis entered with a young black man looking well-groomed and wearing white slacks and a crisp white shirt open at the neck.
“David, darling, here’s someone who says you want to see him,” Wallis announced. “The girls and I went to one of the shanty towns. This young man waiting for us when the bus stopped. He told me you had invited him to the palace.”
His mind was a blank, but he composed himself enough to smile, stand and walk around the desk, his hand extended.
“No need to rise,” the young man said in a humble voice. “It was nothing, really. I didn’t think at all. It just seemed to me you needed to be pushed out of the way of all the confusion.”
The incident flashed through David’s mind. The young man lifted him and carried him to safety during the riot.
“I’m glad you remembered my request to visit so I could thank you properly.” He shook he boy’s hand. “You have quite a strong grip. And you must be strong because you didn’t just shove me out of danger but actually lifted me.”
“I’m a fisherman. It’s quite strenuous work.”
“You haven’t told us your name.” Wallis didn’t smile.
“Sidney Johnson.”
“Well, Sidney, she continued, “I don’t think I would have taken your request seriously if you weren’t so smartly dressed. ”
“My father said just because we are fishermen doesn’t mean we shouldn’t know proper dress for the proper occasion.”
“Well-spoken too,” David added.
“My father read the newspaper to me every day. I still read the paper every day. That’s how I knew the Duchess would be in the northern hills today.”
“He must be very proud of you,” David said.
“He’s dead.” Sidney paused. “Fishing can be a very dangerous business.”
“Where do you live?” David asked.
“Eleuthera, although I visit my friends in the hills north of Nassau often.”
David arched an eyebrow. “Eleuthera. What a coincidence. I had a cousin—a member of the Romanov family—who lived in a large house on Eleuthera around the time of the Russian revolution. Her husband died of a heart attack rumor had it, and she was never heard from again.” He paused to light a cigarette. “Are you familiar with any large houses on Eleuthera?”
Sidney didn’t pause. “Yes, hacienda style. I pass by it every day.”
Wallis wore her tight smile she used when speaking to someone who didn’t really interest her. “Do you live with your mother?”
“She died shortly after my father passed.”
David stared at Sidney.
He looks like an older man I’ve seen before but I can’t place him.
“I need a valet.” Something in his gut told him he needed to learn more about this young man.
Wallis arched an eyebrow at Sidney. “You know what a valet is, don’t you?”
“Of course,” he replied. “A valet takes care of his gentleman.”
“Well put.” David turned to his wife. “So what do you think, Wallis?”
She shrugged. “He’ll be your valet.”
“Being a governor and a member of the royal family, I am privy to a great amount of knowledge the general public doesn’t need to know,” David explained. “Do you know how to keep a secret?”
A shadow of a smile crossed Sidney’s face. “You’d be surprised how well I can keep a secret.”
There was another knock, and David yelled, “Come in.”
The butler opened the door. “Mr. Harry Oakes is here to see you, Your Highness.”
Wallis turned and led Sidney to the door. “It’s just as well. I need to find a place in the palace for this young man to sleep.” She stopped to nod to the new visitor. “Harry, have you lost weight?”
“Why no.” His eyes widened.
“You should, you know.” Then she and Sidney left.
David tried not to smile as Harry looked down at his expansive stomach. With him was a blonde who wore too much makeup in a vain attempt to look young. He could not help but notice that when they passed Wallis and Sidney, the blonde snapped her head toward the Bahamian for a moment.
Harry stuck out his hand to David. “Sorry for the interruption, Your Highness, but I wanted to drop by to thank you for the way you handled those bums a couple of weeks ago.”
“They’re not bums, Harry,” the blonde corrected him. They’re black Bahamians who are tired of getting paid less than the white guys.”
David didn’t know who this blonde was, but he liked her already.
She stuck out her hand. She had a firm handshake. David was certain he liked her now.
“My name is Aline. Harry promoted me from poker dealer to his personal assistant. We have a long history together. He owes me, for a lot of things he wouldn’t want me to mention here. “
Harry’s face reddened. “You and your jokes, Aline. The Duke might get the wrong idea.”
“Both of you have a seat.” David waved at two padded chairs.
“Harry, I want you to call a meeting of the Bay Street boys,” David began as he sat, “and announce Bahamian workers on the RAF project will receive a forty percent raise. They’ll know it’s still less than the whites make but at least it’s a start. Hell, throw in free lunches.”
Harry puffed out his red cheeks. “I will not! Why, it’ll be like rewarding them for the riot!”
“Listen to the man,” Aline muttered. “He was the King of England. He knows what he’s talking about.”
David couldn’t keep his eyes off her.
“Okay. I’ll call the meeting and suggest it to them, but I can tell you right now they won’t go for it.”
“Listen to the Duke, Harry,” Aline responded. “They’ll go for it.”
David felt his heart beat faster. As he walked them to the door, he found his right hand touch the blonde’s back. She didn’t pull away.
The exhilaration of meeting new fascinating people ended for David with the arrival of a telegram a few days later.
Prince George had died in a plane crash on his way to inspect a RAF airfield in Greenland. David sent a letter of condolence to George’s wife Marina. He didn’t know if the Royal Household would allow her to see it, but David wrote it anyway. A sense of loss overwhelmed David. He slopped around in his pajamas and slippers the rest of the day. Getting dressed seemed like too big a chore.
Wallis stayed particularly close to David—coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, snuggling on a sofa and putting her head on his shoulder, but not saying a word.
In the next few days public kisses became more frequent whenever they went out.
A week later Wallis announced concern for Aunt Bessie’s health and Wallis wanted to spend time with her before it was too late. David understood. Sometimes people find themselves closer to one family member than others and mourn the time when they won’t be there.
One evening David decided a night cap at home would not suffice. Wallis was gone, and he was not sure when she would return. He felt drawn to the Rialto. David needed to hear laughter and clinking of glasses. Also, he was certain he would be left alone. Etiquette demanded one not speak to royalty until the royal spoke to them.
He sat at the bar nursing a scotch when he felt a woman’s arm slip through his arm and around his chest. The only person to do that was Wallis, and she was in Baltimore.
“You look lonely.”
David recognized Aline’s voice.
“May I join you?”
“Of course.”
She sat unconventionally close and held one of those reddish orange concoctions with a small umbrella on top. Aline’s dress was scarlet and strapless, allowing David to notice ample cleavage.
“Where’s the Duchess?” Aline asked.
“Visiting a sick aunt in the states.”
“Oh, so you are lonely.”
“More than lonely.” David didn’t understand why he said that.
“Yes, I saw in the newspaper you brother Prince George died. Are you going to the funeral?”
“No. Current royal protocol forbids it.”
“I’m sorry I mentioned it.” Aline leaned in to David, touching his shoulder. “It isn’t easy being royalty, is it?”
“No.”
“I know.” She paused. “You see, my name is actually Alina. It is a Russian name.”
He wrinkled his brow. “I had a cousin who lived in the Bahamas for a while.”
“She was my mother.” Aline looked down. “I’ve said too much already.”
“I’ve heard the stories about her, but I never knew if they were true.” Interest entered David’s voice. “Was she really married to a Ribbentrop?”
“That’s what she told me.”
“Where did she go? Is she still alive? I don’t mean to be inquisitive, but this does make us distant relatives, doesn’t it?”
Aline looked straight ahead. “She moved to Montana and worked in a brothel. She didn’t think the Bolsheviks would find her there. She died when I was twelve. It was a hard life.”
“Do you even know who your father was?”
“Yes. But if I told you his name you wouldn’t believe it.”
“Harry Oakes.” David was quick. “That’s why you’re in the Bahamas working for him. I could tell by the way you talked to him you hate him.”
Aline shrugged. “He’s not so bad, for a rat.”
“I hated my father too.”
“It gives us something in common, don’t you think?” Her hand strayed to his leg and squeezed. “Your thighs are strong.”
David stared at her. “This conversation is becoming inappropriate.”
“It was inappropriate for Lenin to kill my relatives. It was inappropriate for England to force you to abdicate. Life is inappropriate.” She squeezed his thigh again. “How long will your wife be away?”
“I don’t know.”
Aline smiled. “I have a lovely secluded apartment not far from here. And the neighbors are very discreet.”
“You’re making me think of the days when I was a young prince with no responsibilities.” He leaned in but stopped short of kissing her. “I enjoyed those days.”

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Eighty-Seven

Previously: Mercenary Leon fails a mission because of David, the Prince of Wales. Socialite Wallis Spencer is also a spy. David becomes king. David abdicates, they marry and he becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Leon becomes a mercenary. MI6 briefs the Windsors on the situation in the Bahamas.
Sidney bought a newspaper before he started walking across the northern hills to meet up with Jimbo. Word had made it over to Eleuthera that some trouble was expected tonight. It was a long time coming and not a secret. Details of the air field construction projects began to leak. Whites imported from the United States were to receive four times the pay for the same work black Bahamians would do. All of the crew leader jobs were going to be offered to white Bahamians.
A story on the front page of the paper stated the Duke of Windsor had cut his diplomatic tour of the Eastern United States short and had returned to the Bahamas to address certain government issues. Sidney grunted.
I guess they didn’t want to admit a race riot was about to break out.
As he entered the village, Sidney wadded the newspaper and threw it in the brush alongside of the road. Two fears held his attention: first, he didn’t want the Duke to be involved in any way. Sidney’s contact with the organization made it clear there would be hell to pay if any harm came to the island governor. Second, he didn’t like the way Jimbo was getting involved in the situation. He was a big boy, for sure, but he was still just a boy, much less grown up than Sidney.
He didn’t want to see his new friend hurt. Even though Sidney was only sixteen himself, he felt like a father figure to Jimbo. He was family. And Sidney knew families’ bellies must be filled.
By the time he arrived at the campground, Leonard Green was already preaching to the crowd.
“We are tired of feeling like second-class citizens.” Green’s voice was loud and intense. “We are the majority in the Bahamas, but we are treated like the minority! It’s not fair, and it ends tonight!”
“I’se a man!” a voice in the crowd called out.
“That’s right!” Green agreed. “I’se a man!”
The chant rolled through the crowd as they held their torches high. Sidney searched the mob for some time before he found Jimbo. He didn’t like the glint in his friend’s eyes highlighted by in the torch flames.
“Now pick up a stick, a rock, anything,” Green ordered. “We’re going to the Public Square right now!”
Sidney stayed right by Jimbo’s side as they marched back over the hills to the town square where the Governor’s House sat alongside the Parliament building and the Colonial Secretary’s Office. When they arrived, Green conferred with a group of older black men in suits who stood at the top of the steps which led to a plaza connecting the three buildings. He turned to address the crowd.
“I have been informed by this group of gentlemen that a representative of our new Bahamas Federation of Labor is meeting at this very moment with the Duke of Windsor about our concerns.”
A white man stepped in front. “I am Attorney General Eric Halliman, and I assure you the Duke is very interested in your concerns and will act on them within the fullest measure the law will allow.”
A low moan of disbelief went through the crowd.
“Now I ask you, most kindly, to go home and not to spoil the good impression you have made.”
Most of the men did as they were told and in due time turned back towards home.
A woman’s voice rang out, “Cheap talk! That’s all it is!”
“Let’s go shoppin’ down on that Bay Street they’re always talkin’ about!” a man shouted.
“We never even seen it before!”
“Yeah! They won’t even let us walk down the street!”
“Let’s see what they got down there!”
“Yeah!” Jimbo chimed in.
Oh crap. How am I going to keep him from getting killed?”
Before Sidney knew it he and Jimbo were being shoved downtown. Stones shattered windows. Rioters flung torches in the shops. The night sky glowed in orange and yellow. Women spurred the men on.
“Get me some of that expensive perfume!”
“I want a fancy radio!”
Small children danced through the ransacked stores, laughing as though they didn’t understand the dire circumstances of the insurrection.
“We declare war on the conchy joe!” another voice erupted from the crowd.
“No white man is passin’ here tonight!”
Sidney grabbed Jimbo’s arm. “Come on, buddy. Let’s get out of here!”
“No!” Jimbo replied in a shrill snarl. “They right! They right!”
Sidney looked around when he heard the thudding of soldiers’ boots on the cobblestones. The governor had called out the troops.
Jerking on his friends arm, Sidney hissed, “It doesn’t make any difference if they’re right if the soldiers shoot us dead on the street!”
Now Sidney heard the bells on the firetrucks arriving to stop the shop burning. His worst fears came true when his eyes focused down the street where a slender white man silhouetted against the flames stood directing the action. Sidney decided the Duke left the negotiations when he was informed of the rioting.
Damn. Who knew he was going to be a hero tonight?”
The situation exacerbated when he saw Jimbo pick up a shard of glass in front of the stores.
“Damn white governor,” Jimbo growled. “It’s all his fault.” He started stalking toward the Duke.
Jimbo’s not thinking straight. He should know the Duke was really on their side. It’s too late to explain it to him now. He’s hot under the collar. How can I stop this without killing anybody?
He ran to catch up to Jimbo and kicked him several times in the back of the knees, which caused the boy to collapse on the street moaning.
Sidney looked behind him and saw a gray-haired black man who looked as scared as Sidney felt. He pointed to his friend on the ground.
“He done got sick. Take him back to the camp, please.”
The older man nodded, leaned down to help up Jimbo, and they disappeared in the crowd. As soon as he was sure they were gone, Sidney looked back at the Duke and saw several black men creeping up behind him.
Sidney ran to the Duke, grabbed him around the waist and dragged him to one of the firetrucks. He shoved him into the arms of a firefighter.
“He’ll be safer over here.” Sidney told the firefighter as he began to walk away.
“Who are you?” a fireman asked.
“One of the good guys—whatever the hell that means.”
The Duke turned around, shook his head and looked at Sidney. “Come by the Governor’s Palace when everything calms down. I want to thank you, properly.”

David, Wallis and the Mercenary Chapter Eighty-Six

Previously: Mercenary Leon fails a mission because of David, the Prince of Wales. Socialite Wallis Spencer is also a spy. David becomes king. David abdicates, they marry and he becomes Bahamas governor. Leon dies and his son Leon becomes a mercenary. Woolworth heiress invites them to dinner.
The Windsors returned to the Bahamas just in time for the sultry season of summer; and, oh, how Wallis loathed it. Social life centered on dinners with the Bay Street Boys and their poorly dressed wives who fawned over her to excess. The wife of Harry Oates, the only one with anything of interest to say, had the good sense to go north during the dog days. An idea kept buzzing in Wallis like an irritating house fly while local gossip flourished in the after dinner social hour.
Wouldn’t I be put to better use somewhere else around the world killing a Nazi or someone else equally unpleasant?
Wallis did find a satisfying usefulness in her afternoons with the Red Cross ladies. On any given day she could be found at the hospitals caring for sick babies, counseling unwed mothers, darning socks, distributing clothing and bedding among the unwashed on the north side of the island among the unwashed. She would take notes of where medics needed to visit homes and tents where dreadful diseases abounded. Her fellow volunteers were women of compassion, reason and ideas. They were also ladies of age who after an afternoon with the Red Cross went home to a quiet supper and forthwith went to bed. They needed their rest to have the strength to attack their duties the next day.
Of particular interest to the Duchess were the children of the street. They appreciated little things like new sandals, shirts and an extra bit of food. In their eyes she saw the French valet’s son Jean who was pushed aside because the adults deemed him of no consequence. Yet it was he who saved her life the Christmas at La Croe. Who knew if one of these children might do the same thing if given the opportunity?
By September Wallis couldn’t stand the tedium and convinced David they might be of more use building goodwill among the Allies with another trip to the United States. Besides, she hadn’t had a decent new dress in years—at least it seemed like years. Even MI6 agreed another trip to the states was a good idea.
As usual, crowds lined the streets of Washington, D.C., as the Windsors drove down the boulevards in their limousine. British Ambassador Lord Halifax was out of town, which Wallis and David expected. The Royal Family demanded the couple receive as little attention as possible in their activities. Wallis had to remind herself that the King, Queen and his Royal Mum knew nothing of their MI6 connection. They assumed David’s abdication was as it was presented to the world—an affaire d’amour taken to excess. It was not as though Buckingham Palace was rude to them: it just acted like they didn’t exist.
Palace connections did maneuver behind the scenes. A White House dinner for the Duke and Duchess was cancelled for no apparent reason. Still, David did have an extensive private talk with President Roosevelt. The Duke spoke to the National Press Club. And the British embassy hosted a small dinner for them. Wallis was surprised they weren’t served watercress sandwiches and day-old tea cakes.
The palace did allow them to visit David’s ranch near Alberta, Canada. He bought the four thousand acres in 1919. On the surface David ran it as a business with a paid management staff. MI6 also used it for agent training. David had not been there since a couple of visits during the thirties. Wallis had never visited the ranch. The Windsors assumed the King didn’t want them to receive a large reception in metropolitan areas like Ottawa or Montréal. The tweedy types in the King’s cabinet didn’t know MI6 had arranged the time on the ranch.
When Wallis and David walked into the ramshackle log ranch house, they saw the smiling face of Gerry Greene, who had replaced the retired General Trotter as their main MI6 contact.
“Are we having fun yet?” Greene asked, seated in a large tufted chair.
“Now that you’re here I certainly hope so,” Wallis cracked as she lounged across an old leather sofa. “I hope you have an assignment for us. Something terribly sinful.”
“It might be.” Green looked at David. “There’s another one of these comfy chairs for you. “ He paused. “Oh. I’m supposed to stand or something when you come into a room. I hope I wasn’t rude.”
David plopped in the chair. “Not any more than my own family. Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it by now.” He pulled out his cigarette case and offered cigarettes to Wallis and Greene. “I do have one concern. I do miss my brother George. The rest of them I could do without, but if you could arrange a brief encounter with George every once in a while I’d appreciate it. Of course, I know he can’t know anything about MI6 but I’d just like to talk over old times.”
“And his wife Marina,” Wallis added. “She’s such a dear.”
“Well.” Greene broke into a wicked grin. “You be a good little boy and girl and keep war from breaking out in the Bahamas and I’ll see what we can do about George.”
Wallis sat up. “Another war? Don’t we have enough to worry about with the rest of the world going to hell?”
“It’s all related, my dear,” Greene replied.
“The RAF fields, right?” David looked at him with his squinty eye.
“Those bases must be built,” Greene continued. “No one has given too much thought about the danger of a German takeover of the Caribbean. It is vital not only to British interests but to American.”
Wallis blew smoke through her nostrils. “I thought that was a done deal. The Bay Street Boys were taking care of it.”
“The Bay street Boys are taking care of themselves.” Greene slouched back. “The Empire has been trying to impress on them the national security necessity of the project but all they can think of are big profits for themselves.”
“Of course.” David’s voice was licked by his usual schwermut.
“We could take out Harry Oates and Harold Christie,” Wallis offered. “They’re the worst ones. In fact, I’d enjoy killing Harry myself.”
“Wipe the drool from the corner of your mouth, dear,” David suggested.
“But they’re not the only players,” Greene explained. “We’ve heard bad things about this fellow named Merigny.”
“I know he wants to marry Harry’s daughter,” Wallis confided. “And he gets under Harry’s skin.”
“It isn’t just the Bay Street Boys,” Greene continued. “Right now there’s a race problem. Oates and Christie refuse to pay the black workers the same as the whites.”
“Ah, the Bourbon Street Boys,” Wallis threw in.
“Burma Road Boys,” David corrected her.
“I knew that. Maybe bourbon is on my mind because I’m thirsty.” She looked around room. “Where do you keep the booze?”
“We have to walk a tight rope,” Greene continued. “We don’t need a full-blown race riot. The airfields have to be built, dammit.”
David nodded. “Shanghai. 1925.”
“Exactly,” Greene agreed.
“I remember Shanghai.” Wallis smirked at David. “I saved your life.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Reminisce later,” Greene ordered.
An envoy entered and handed Greene a telegram.
“Hey, you,” Wallis called out to the envoy. “Do you know where they keep the bourbon?”
Greene opened the wire, read and threw it aside. “More good news. A tropical storm just trashed the north side of Nassau. Ravaging the people who aren’t getting enough money as it is.”
Wallis sat up and turned serious. “Are we caught up? David and I need to get this trip over and back to the islands. Can you see that a telegram is sent to the Red Cross assuring them help is on the way?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh God, and we have to finish this awful tour.”
Greene agreed to cut their talks short. The Windsors returned to the United States, stopping off at Aunt Bessie’s house in Baltimore.
“My darlings, how wonderful to see you!” the old woman exclaimed. “I’ve been reading about you in the papers.”
Wallis’s face lit up. Bessie seemed more cogent than the last time they saw her in La Croe.
“Now when are you inviting me back to your lovely place in France? I enjoyed that Christmas there. But of course, you did seat me in the wrong place.”
And the air escaped Wallis lungs.
The Windsors had one last stop before returning to the Bahamas—New York City. Wallis needed a brief shopping spree to recover from the visit with Aunt Bessie. Dear Aunt Bessie who was still in decline, never to return.
Wallis picked a particularly elegant gown for their last social evening of the season—dinner at the home of Jessie Donohue at 834 Fifth Avenue, the size of a grand hotel but just for one family.
Once again Jimmy and Wooly greeted them at the front door, like they had in Florida, and escorted them to the grand staircase just as Jessie, in a haute couture gown accented with brooches, rings, bracelets and a diamond necklace around her sagging neck, descended to receive them.
Wallis put on her best official social event smile.
This is exactly the type of American poseur I loathe. So why do I find her so fascinating?