The Road to Gandolfo by Robert Ludlum Read Free Book Online

on the swimming pool wall.
    “In the event we don’t have a quorum, I act as spokeswoman,” drawled Regina Greenberg from a jaguar-skin couch against the right wall. “That’s because I was there first and have seniority.”
    “Not necessarily in years, dear,” said Madge. “We won’t let you malign yourself.”
    “It’s difficult to know how to begin,” said Sam, who, nevertheless, plunged into the difficulty. He touched first, gently, on the abstract hardships of dealing with a highly individualistic personality. He slowly, gently explained that MacKenzie Hawkins had involved his government in a most delicate situation for which a solution had to be found. And although said government was filled with undeniable and undying gratitude for General Hawkins’s extraordinary contributions, it was often necessary to study a man’s background to help him—and his government—resolve delicate situations. Frequently the partially negative led to the positive, if only to balance and accentuate the affirmative.
    “So you want to screw him,” recapped Regina Greenberg. “It had to happen, didn’t it, girls?”
    There was a chorus of yesses and uh-huhs.
    Sam knew better than to offer a flat denial; there was more intelligence—or perception—in that room than might have been evident at first. “Why do you say that?” he asked Ginny.
    “G
aw
d M
ay
jor!” replied Titanic. “Mac’s been on a collision course with the high-brass pricky-shits for years! He sees through their manure piles. That’s why they like it when those Northern liberals make him out a joke. But Mac’s no joke!”
    “Nobody thinks he’s funny right now, Mrs. Greenberg. Let me assure you.”
    “What’s Mac done?” The question was put defensively by Anne, still silhouetted splendidly at the window.
    “He defaced—–” Sam stopped; bad choice of word. “He destroyed a national monument belonging to a government we’re trying to maintain a détente with. Like our Lincoln Memorial.”
    “Was he drunk?” asked Lillian, eyes and narrow frontage leveled at Sam; two sets of sharp artillery.
    “He says he wasn’t.”
    “Then he wasn’t,” stated Madge positively from the bean bag beside him.
    “Mac can drink a whole battalion under a mess hall slop shoot.” Ginny Greenberg’s drawl was punctuated by her affirmatively nodding head. “But he never,
never
plays the whiskey game to the disadvantage of that uniform.”
    “He wouldn’t put it into words, Major,” said Lillian, “but it was a stronger rule than any oath he ever took.”
    “For two reasons,” added Ginny. “He surely didn’t want to disgrace his rank, but just as important, he didn’t like for the pricky-shits to laugh at him because of booze.”
    “So you see,” stated Madge in the bean bag, “Mac didn’t do what they said he did to the Lincoln Memorial. He just wouldn’t.”
    Sam looked back and forth at the girls. Not one of these ex-Mrs. Hawkinses was going to help him; none would utter a negative word about the man.
    Why?
    He struggled like hell to get out of the bean bag and tried to assume the stance of a cross-examining attorney. A very soft, gentle attorney. He paced slowly in front of the massive window. Anne went to the bean bag.
    “Naturally,” he began, smiling, “these circumstances, this group here, evoke several questions. Not that you’re under any obligation to answer, but frankly, speaking personally, I don’t understand. Let me explain—–”
    “Let
me answer
,” interrupted Regina. “You can’t figure out why Hawkins’s Harem protects its namesake. Right?”
    “Right.”
    “As spokeswoman,” continued Ginny, receiving nods of assent from the others, “I’ll be brief and to the point. Mac Hawkins is one great guy—in bed and out, and don’t snicker at the bed because most marriages haven’t got it.You can’t live with the son of a bitch, but that’s not his fault.
    “Mac gave us something we’ll never forget