Dirty Arm! said Steve as he shouted over to Jay in the
crowded lift.
What did you say? asked Holden, who also couldn’t understand French, nor speak it.
Dirty Arm! That means the wind is blowing too hard to go up any further than next to the top level, replied Steve.
Steve, Holden, and Jay had boarded the lift along with several other tourists to ascend the Eiffel Tower. It didn’t seem that windy to Holden, but that’s what the man said. Holden noticed one very attractive woman in the lift; he could see Steve had noticed her too. She was dressed quite well with a fashionable, long blue dress; sunglasses hid her eyes, but not her beauty. Jay, behaving himself as he usually did, looked out at the scenery as the lift propelled them upwards. When they arrived at the platform each went his separate way. It was indeed windy. Holden marveled at the view, trying to avoid getting stuck with Jay, he moved quickly toward the opposite end of the platform.
Neither he nor Steve had invited Jay to come along; he had simply joined them at the train station in Stuttgart informing them that he too was going to Paris. Steve and Holden had looked at each other, but said nothing. So Jay hung on and Steve and Holden were uncomfortable with his presence but there wasn’t much they could do. All three were on leave and were stationed in Germany with the U.S. Army. Steve and Holden were buddies; Jay was just another familiar face in their battalion. Not one they liked or disliked; that is until the train trip to Paris. Jay just didn’t fit in with them; it was nothing you could really compute, it was that he simply bored the hell out of the other two. He suggested that they do not buy drinks from the vendors when the train reached a stop. Contaminated, he complained. Steve and Holden ignored him. The train was crowded and hot; they were thirsty. They, along with many other thirsty travellers reached their hands out through the window of the train at the next stop to purchase something cool to drink. Jay also insisted that upon arrival in Paris they do not separate, as Paris was no place to wander about alone. Holden caught Steve’s eye and the open question was read by them both in silence, understood with a graphic look. What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into with this guy? They were all the same rank; First Lieutenants; Jay said he was assistant Supply Officer at battalion, but they kept him on the road quite often. Holden knew he had seen Jay around, but he couldn’t recall exactly where. A Lifer; that’s what Steve had called him when they were alone on the train for a few moments while Jay jostled his way toward the men’s room. How are we going to get rid of this guy once we get to Paris? I don’t know, Holden replied; it looks bleak. I wonder how he knew we were going to Paris in the first place? Steve’s face turned sour. That’s probably my fault; I was at the Officer’s Club a couple of weeks ago talking about our trip. I did see him eating dinner a few tables away; he must have heard me. I must learn to keep my mouth shut about trips. It never dawned on me that some one would simply intrude right into the middle of our plans. It looks as though we’re stuck with him, grimaced Holden, who decided to try and catch some sleep as the train sped along toward Paris. It was getting warmer and the water on the train was not potable so sleep was a better option.
Once in Paris they found a hotel on the Left Bank; they flipped a coin for the cot. Holden got the cot while the other two had single beds. They showered and made arrangements at the front desk to tour the city by bus the next day, in the meantime Steve wanted to see the Eiffel Tower.
Holden saw Steve talking to the woman from the lift; she was not alone, she was with an older woman who moved discreetly away. The wind cushioned itself against her dress outlining a body of elegance and a bountiful contour. Holden smiled. Steve was a cool one; he had that Californian surfer-blond hair and good looks accompanied by an agreeable, charming smile. The woman gave Steve her complete attention while he talked.
Steve and Holden had met at Officer’s Candidate School and became friends. This was their first leave together. Holden knew that Steve was engaged to a woman back in Los Angeles, but not much more. Jay, on the other hand, he knew everything about, since Jay had told them his life’s story on the train from Stuttgart, complete with family photographs, the only thing missing, Steve said later, was the video. Holden looked out over the city lost in thought about the countless people beneath him, considering all the perpetual struggles that he would never know.
Jay touched Holden’s arm and pointed out some building off in the distance for Holden to appreciate. He doesn’t really offend me, thought Holden, it’s just that he seems to want to lead rather than join. If he would loosen up and relax it would be a better atmosphere for all three. And, thought Holden, I intend to get laid, Jay or no Jay. When he looked back over to where Steve had been talking with the woman, they had left. Holden reasoned that they must have walked to the other side of the platform. He and Jay stood awhile, but the wind was chilling, it had picked up velocity. Holden decided he had had enough. Let’s go find Steve, he shouted into the wind. Jay nodded. But they couldn’t find him anywhere; Holden thought that he must have taken the lift down with the woman because she was missing too, along with her elderly companion. They waited for the next lift to arrive, expecting Steve to be waiting for them at ground level. But Steve was not waiting.
It was early afternoon. Holden and Jay had lunch in a bistro not far from the giant structure; the weather was mild. Holden admired the women while Jay studied the menu. He had never seen so many beautiful females gathered on one spot on the planet in all his young life. And they seemed so care-free about their beauty. It was as though they didn’t know how lovely they appeared, as if they took their beauty for granted. How was he ever going to get to meet one? He had no idea, nor had he any idea where Steve had actually gone. He couldn’t believe that Steve would take off and not tell him where he was going. After all they were in Paris; it was strange territory. So he probably got laid and will show up later, he thought. I hope he doesn’t tell me all the details, but then again Steve really never did discuss himself with Holden; that was one principal reason they got along. They were similar in many ways. Neither one discussed their past with any degree of enthusiasm.
Look at that! erupted Jay, as they walked along the avenue. What? said Holden, all I see are people; lots of people. Over there! Holden looked across the street and saw a white woman kissing a black man on each cheek. He shook his head and looked blankly at Jay. Now I’m stuck with a bigot to boot, he thought, not only is he boring, but he’s a boring bigot!
Steve was not at the hotel when they arrived. Holden decided to get a couple of hours sleep. He figured that Steve would show up for dinner. I mean how long can you stay in bed without getting hungry? I guess it depends, he further ventured, with whom one is in bed, and the woman from the Eiffel Tower looked good enough to him to complete that scenario.
When Holden awoke the room was empty. This was the first time he had been left alone since they arrived in Paris. It felt strange; the vitality of Paris was everywhere, even the horns of the cars sounded different. The early evening sun was Parisian; it had a French vitality to it. He showered and found Jay in the lobby reading and waiting for him. Still no Steve. They had dinner a few blocks away from the hotel; Holden bought a bottle of red wine. Jay had a glass, one glass, so Holden drank the rest. After dinner they walked along the Seine; it was dusk by then and there were couples everywhere. Holden felt conspicuous with Jay; he noticed only couples strolling, no one was alone, and there were no same-sex couples, except for them. He looked at Jay; he remained oblivious, or so it seemed to Holden that he did. Jay appeared to show no reaction. He never commented about the women, or about the men. The only comment he had made about people in general had been about the white woman kissing the black man. He didn’t comment that the black man was as beautiful as the woman was, or if he noticed, he said nothing. I wish Steve would show up soon, he thought, real soon.
There was a bistro on the corner quite near their hotel. Holden had his eye on a prostitute that he had noticed hanging out by the entrance to the hotel. She wore tight, white slacks and gave him that universal seductive smile when he walked past her. He decided to go to the bistro and perhaps Jay would leave him alone, but Jay followed him like a puppy dog. They sat just off the street, it was cool but pleasant; the waiter eventually took their order just before Jay was about to lose his temper. The waiter looked exactly like the character who played the part of Pablo in the film “Steppenwolf.” Holden could not take his eyes off the man until Jay asked him what the attraction was. Jay had never seen the film and didn’t know who Herman Hesse was, except that his name sounded to him like a Nazi. Holden looked away. After a couple of glasses of wine Holden realized that Jay was set for the evening; he wasn’t about to leave. So Holden told him about the prostitute and that he intended to pay for her services. To his surprise Jay volunteered to stay in the bistro while he took the woman up to their room. Holden had not expected this. He left enough Francs to cover whatever Jay wanted to drink; Jay was not drinking wine. Holden left in search of the prostitute. She was not at the hotel entrance. So he walked around the block assuming that he would encounter another woman plying her trade, but that was not to be. Back at the bistro he motioned for Jay to come outside; they went back to their empty room at the hotel.
Later in their separate beds with the lights shinning intermittently from the street below casting faint shadows through their large window, they discussed the disappearance of Steve. They both had seen him with the woman so they had to assume he was still with her. But why he didn’t contact them was a mystery. Jay said that the woman was an American as he had overheard her talking to her companion, who was also an American. They had four more days to stay in Paris and nothing planned except the bus tour the following day. They decided to wait until the day before their departure then seriously discuss Steve’s disappearance, at least discuss what they were going to do about Steve’s disappearance, if anything. Besides, Holden said, Steve has already paid for his tour ticket, I’ll bet he’ll show up in the morning in time to catch the bus.
Holden lost his bet; Steve didn’t show. The bus was a typical tourist bus with large dark windows, hosted by an English speaking French woman who looked as though she had been a flight attendant for thirty years and then grounded herself for another thirty years. She smoked continuously and spoke in a bored, husky voice. She and the driver spoke to each other in French and laughed frequently. The hostess constantly reminded them not to get off the bus; that the tour was strictly a bus tour and nothing more. If they wanted to visit some of the places they would see from the bus, they could do so at a later time. No getting of the bus in Paris, she reminded them from time to time. How about lunch? asked Jay, raising his hand like a school boy. The woman gave him a quizzical stare and shrugged. We have boxed lunches for sale and your Pepsi Cola, and then she laughed as though she was actually daring Jay to attempt to eat one of the boxed lunches. Jay did when the time came around for lunch. The box contained one piece of dried chicken wing, one slab of cold slaw and one bun that looked as though it wasn’t possible to mistake it for food. He drank a cola along with it, although Holden noticed that Jay grimaced when eating the bun, it too eventually disappeared. Holden found himself not the slightest bit hungry.
They saw the usual sights from their window; Holden had the inside seat. Once they were stuck in traffic for almost an hour. Their hostess told them that there was an accident up ahead. Finally they headed back toward the hotel; both Jay and Holden were tired and restless from sitting. Traffic was heavy; the bus made several stops and crept along at various intervals. Holden was looking out of the window when he saw her; it was the woman from the Eiffel Tower; she was alone. Holden looked around to see if Steve was anywhere, but he couldn’t see him. The bus slowed again. Jay! There’s that woman who Steve was with; I’m going to find out where Steve is! Jay jumped up and headed for the door with Holden right behind him. The driver opened the door to let them off; he had been watching them run down the aisle in the mirror and thought one was chasing the other. As they left the bus the hostess yelled hoarsely, You can’t get off in Paris! Crazy Americans! They walked quickly back toward where Holden had spotted the woman. She was standing along the sidewalk looking into the window of a clothing shop; she wore the same blue dress and her dark glasses. Excuse me, said Holden, a little out of breath, I’m Holden and this is Jay; we’re friends of Steve’s, and we were wondering if you knew where he was? Steve! Steve who? The man you were talking with on the Eiffel Tower yesterday afternoon. He told me that his name was Jim or something. I haven’t seen him since yesterday. She looked at them skeptically. Didn’t he leave with you on the lift? No, I don’t think so, at least if he did, I didn’t notice. I was with my mother who flew back to New York this morning. Damn! He hasn’t been back to our hotel since yesterday; I was hoping that he was with you, that is I was hoping he was safe, now I’m not so sure. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help gentlemen. Thank you anyway. What were you talking about with Steve? inquired Jay. Let me think; Paris, he said he was a business man and abruptly invited me to lunch; I refused and then he left. That was all there was to it. Jay and Holden thanked her and left her at the window. She watched them walk away, smiled, moved her glasses down an inch ortwo as the two men nearly disappeared in the crowd. Holden! she yelled, waving a hand for him to approach. As Holden came closer he realized how lovely she was. Her hair was as brown as an autumn chestnut, her features were soft but sculpted to a fine tone. She had taken off her glasses; her eyes were bright green, although suspicious, they sparkled in the Parisian light. I may have seen him last evening; I’m not sure, but my mother and I went into this bistro to eat, but there were only men there. My mother said it was a gay hangout, so we left. When we were leaving I thought I saw your Steve dancing with another man. I’m not positive, but it sure looked like him. Would you know where that bistro is? Jay hung back a few meters, but he could hear the conversation. I think I could find it; it wasn’t far from my hotel. May I take you to dinner this evening, then we can look for this place? She looked at Holden, then at Jay. Just me; he said. She reached out her hand. I’m Sara Burton, yes, I’ll go to dinner with you tonight. Shall we meet right here at eight o’clock? Eight, said Holden, I’ll be here.
Holden and Jay took a taxi to their hotel. Holden was mostly silent, thinking about his friend. Jay broke the silence. He’ll get canned for this! You know the policy for Officers; it’s even more severe for us. No faggots! Period! Jay! He’s my friend; I’m not going to turn him in, besides what if that really wasn’t Steve after all? How are we ever going to prove it was him unless we catch him? Look Holden! He wasn’t with her, he hasn’t been back to the hotel, and she thought she saw him dancing with a man! What further proof do you want? I’m not going to condemn him without giving him a chance to explain what the circumstances are, responded Holden. Jay smirked but remained silent throughout the rest of their trip.
The prostitute was outside their hotel. Holden asked Jay if he would mind giving him a half hour alone in their room. Jay sauntered off toward the corner bistro. She smiled as Holden approached. They settled the price quickly; the desk clerk pretended that they didn’t exist when they passed the desk to mount the stairs to the second floor. When Holden opened the room; it was a disaster; the room was almost trashed. Everything was scattered about; the woman took one look and retreated back down the stairs as Holden stayed in the doorway surveying the damage. Clothes were scattered everywhere.
The police arrived at the same time Jay made his appearance. Initially nothing seemed stolen; they had carried their money with them and their passports. Someone was looking for something, but what that something was, was anybody’s guess. The clerk had arrived on duty at four P.M., he hadn’t seen any unusual activity. He could only recall the guests, except of course the prostitute with Holden. . Jay spoke with the policemen in perfect French after showing them his identification. He showed them an empty toilet kit, then wrote something down and handed it to one of the officers. When they left Holden looked at Jay and waited for an explanation. I’m C.I.D. Holden; I moved in on you and Steve to discover what Steve is up to. He withdrew all his money out of the Kaserne Bank and several thousand dollars from an account he had in a German Bank. We suspect that his money came from drugs, but we don’t know for sure. Jay looked around the room. Whoever was here also stole my gun! I gave the description to the police. It took some time to get their room back together.
Their relationship had taken on a different character. Jay was not the middle-class, conservative bigot that he feigned to be. And, he had initially suspected that Holden too was also up to something, until Steve disappeared. I’m going to follow you and what’s her-name . . ? Sara, responded Holden. Sara! I’ll be with you all evening. I have a feeling that you will not see Steve, but if you do be careful! Why should I be careful? Who else but Steve had a key to our room, and who else but Steve knew that we would be away from our room long enough to conduct a thorough search? The average burglar here in Paris is in and out quickly. All I’m saying is exercise caution! Some vacation, thought Holden. I can’t even get laid in Paris and my best friend is turning out to be my worst nightmare. And now the C.I.D. is trailing me to lunch with a lovely woman.
Holden waited outside the store for a little over ten minutes. She arrived in a taxi; dressed demurely, but alluring all the same. She smiled and told him that she knew of a fine restaurant, not too expensive, just around the corner. She took his arm as they walked. The evening was warm; Holden felt the softness of her body as it brushed occasionally against his. They had a cocktail then ordered their meal. They talked about Paris, where she was from - upstate New York - where he was from - San Francisco - and of course the many and assorted delights of Paris. The meal was served. After dinner, she looked at her watch. He’s waiting for you in the men’s room. Who? Steve! What’s this all about Sara? You didn’t see Steve in any gay bistro did you? Steve will tell you everything. Holden saw the intensity on her face and looked around the cafe. It wasn’t very crowded; there was no one present that he had seen before. Standing, he looked down on her; she motioned with her hand impatiently toward the rear of the cafe.
There was no one in the men’s room. He relieved himself and washed his hands as the door opened and Steve entered. He smiled that disengaging smile. Holden! Good to see you. He shook his hand. I don’t have much time; here’s what happening. Jay is involved with a group of high ranking Officers who are smuggling weapons and money into Serbia. From what I understand as soon as our troops pull out of Bosnia the war will flare up again. How do you know all this? asked a skeptical Holden I’m an undercover Intelligence Officer. No shit! That’s what Jay told me, only he said he was C.I.D. Did Jay show you his I.D.? Yeah, to me and the French Police. When? This afternoon. Oh, I suppose you don’t know that our hotel room was sacked and someone stole his gun? he inquired suspiciously. This afternoon? No, I didn’t know about that. It was probably staged to get the police to look for me too. Did you see the identification that he showed the police? No. That doesn’t matter anyway; he could have, and probably does have fake I.D. Unless of course he really is C.I.D.? That would make an excellent cover for their smuggling. I’m getting confused! How do I know you’re not a fake? That’s true you don’t and I only carry my U.S. Army Identification Card. So you have no proof of anything that you’ve told me. None, I’m afraid. You’ll have to take my word. Holden felt confused and rubbed his chin. Did you see his gun Holden? No. Where is Jay now? I don’t know Steve. Listen Holden; that guy is going to kill me if he gets the chance, and now that I’ve told you about it, it’s likely that he’ll have to kill you too. How does Jay know that you know about the smuggling? That night I told you I saw him at the Officer’s Club, I overheard him talking to some Major about the smuggling. I was there to listen to conversations. I sat a couple of tables away and invited another Officer to join me. Jay caught my eye and I tried to appear that I hadn’t heard, but if he could hear me discuss our trip to Paris he must have realized that I could have overheard him too. Someone put twenty five thousand dollars in my bank account the next day. I left it there, but he must have had me checked out in the meantime and found out who I really am. That’s why we were stationed in Stuttgart. We? Yes, we! You were being recruited too at my recommendation. So far you’ve passed with flying colors. Why don’t you go to the embassy for protection? What and have them turn me over to Jay? No thanks; my work is undercover, there’s only two people in Germany who officially know about it. How does Sara fit into this? She doesn’t. I told her that I hated Jay and didn’t want to be around him, that’s all. She believes me. Do you? Look Steve; I don’t know who or what to believe. I have no proof Holden, all I can ask of you is to trust me. Holden looked down at the floor. He thought about his dilemma. He had no proof either way. Was he to believe some guy who said he was C.I.D and horned his way into their vacation? Or was he to believe someone he met at O.C.S., someone he knew well, but nothing about his background, someone who never let him down in the past? Okay Steve; Jay is outside. Thanks Holden. But I knew that all along. I’ve been watching the cafe for almost an hour. He’s sitting just across the street drinking a soda. When you leave here you’ll find Sara gone. Eventually Jay will come over out of curiosity. You say that she left to get me and I will meet you at the bistro near our hotel at midnight. Stay here and have a few drinks. Make sure he drinks a lot of soda or whatever, then remain here until he goes to the bathroom, then leave quickly. Don’t worry about paying the bill, I’ve already taken care of that. I’ll be in touch. Steve smiled widely and shook Holden’s hand. Thanks Holden, I’ll be counting on you. Steve do you have a weapon? No, I don’t need one; I’ll surprise him. Don’t worry. Hurry Holden there isn’t much time.
It went exactly as Steve predicted; Jay entered the cafe almost as soon as Holden sat down. He told Jay why Sara had left. Two hours! Well I think I’ll notify the French Police. While Jay was on the telephone Holden ordered a large soda for Jay and coffee for himself. Holden watched as Jay drank his sweet drink; it was his second glass, then he drank a third. Finally he excused himself and walked toward the men’s room. Holden stood, he hesitated momentarily, then called out to Jay who was approaching the men’s room door. Jay stopped and turned; he gave Holden a quizzical look and then walked back to their table. Make it in a hurry; I’m about to explode! Jay can I see your C.I.D. identification? What now? I’ve got to piss my brains out! Now! Jay looked at him and saw the determined look on his face. Here! He flipped open his wallet for Jay to look. Don’t go in there Jay. Steve is hiding in there. Holden sat down deflated. Jay pulled out a weapon and walked slowly toward the men’s room. He stopped and spoke to the waiter who ran immediately to a telephone. Holden heard the shots as he sat frozen at his table. Soon Jay emerged alone, spoke to the frightened crowd in French, and re-joined Holden. Thanks Holden. What made you decide to help me? I don’t know; all of a sudden I had this bad feeling. I felt like an executioner, I didn’t want that on my conscience. Well you did the right thing Holden. How did you know that he was in there? Never mind; we can discuss that later over a drink. The police arrived and Jay left to talk to them. No one questioned Holden; he was free to leave at any time, said Jay, when he returned briefly to the table. Holden waited on the sidewalk until the ambulance took Steve’s body away. He saw Jay through the window on the telephone. A Police Officer was moving the crowd away. Yes, I’ll go, said Holden. Ah, the American, I met you today at the hotel that was ransacked. Holden looked at him closely, then he recognized him. Sure, I remember. That dead man was carrying the same gun that was robbed from your room, in fact he had it in his hand. How do you know it was the same gun? It was a forty five with an insignia on it. What kind of insignia? It was very distinctive Monsieur; the familiar insignia of the Serbian Army. The policeman touched his cap and moved away. Holden watched Jay walked toward the cafe door; his face looked determined. Jay opened the door of the cafe and stepped onto the sidewalk. He took Holden by the arm, and laughed. Come on Holden! This time the drinks are on me! Holden saw Sara running toward them from across the street. He could read the panic in her eyes.