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Martín walked out of the lobby into the driveway.

“Who was that?” Clete asked.

“An officer of our intelligence service,” Frade said. “The Bureau of Internal Security. It was from him that I learned you were here.”

“Oh?”

“He was naturally curious why you were staying with Señor Mallín and not me.”

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sp; “I’m surprised he knew about me at all,” Clete said.

“I thought it a bit odd myself,” Frade said. “Unless, of course, you’re not here for the reason you gave me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Clete said. “I’m here because my grandfather needed someone down here, and I speak Spanish and needed a job.”

He knows I’m lying. Whether because I’m not a very good liar, or because he’s put two and two together. Whatever else he is, this man, my father, is no fool.

The question is, where does that leave us?

“You speak Spanish very well,” his father said, dropping the subject. “Shall we go?”

Frade led Clete through the revolving door to the entrance driveway before he remembered where the Horche was. Taking Cletus there would be unwise. Beatrice would almost certainly see him.

“I have the car parked a block or so away,” Frade said.

“All right.”

“Why don’t you just wait in front for me.”

“I don’t mind walking.”

“Please wait for me in front,” Frade said. It was unquestionably an order.

“All right,” Clete said.

Clete watched his father march down Avenue Alvear. Then nature called. He went back into the hotel and down the stairs again to the men’s room. An attendant patiently waited for him to relieve his bladder, then stood by with soap, a towel, a comb, cologne, and an open hand.

When Clete reached the entranceway again, his father was already there, standing impatiently by the open door of a magnificent, gleaming, four-door convertible. A Horche, according to the grille.

What the hell is a Horche?

“I wondered what happened to you,” Frade said.

“That’s one hell of a car,” Clete said.

“I rather like it myself,” Frade said. And then he heard himself say, as he extended the keys to his son, “Would you like to drive?”

[THREE]

Centro Naval

Avenida Florida y Avenida Córdoba

Buenos Aires

1325 27 November 1942


Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Honor Bound Thriller