“The privilege of his acquaintance?” Isabela asked incredulously. “Isn’t he your enemy?”
“I met him briefly,” Peter went on, “when enjoying the hospitality of your Guest House, mi Coronel.”
Not briefly. We got drunk together. We were not enemies, but pilots talking about flying.
“Though el Capitán and my son, Isabela,” Frade proclaimed, “are officers of opposing military services, they are first and foremost officers and gentlemen. They bear each other no personal animosity. Isn’t that so, Capitán?”
“Sí, mi Coronel.”
“That’s outrageous!” Isabela said. “The Capitán is agreeing with you to be polite.”
Frade snorted.
“Tell her, Capitán. She has her mother’s inability to conceive that she could possibly be wrong.”
“No tea for you,” Claudia said. “Coffee. Several cups. Right now. You must again forgive el Coronel, Capitán. His behavior is inexcusable.”
“Forgive me, Señora,” Peter said. “El Coronel is quite correct. I bear Herr Lieutenant Frade no ill will. In other circumstances, I feel sure we could become friends.”
On the other hand, I am obviously perfectly willing to sit here with my finger in my ass doing nothing to warn him that he’s going to be murdered.
But, of course, I can’t do that. From the moment Grüner told me his plans, I knew I wouldn’t be able to just let things happen. I will warn him.
But how?
Perhaps if I went to von Lutzenberger and told him, he would order Grüner to call off his thugs. But Grüner would certainly work out where von Lutzenberger got his information. And if von Lutzenberger decides that Cletus is expendable, and that I should just stay out of it, then I could not warn Cletus; Grüner and von Lutzenberger would both know I told him.
And Grüner would call that “giving aid and comfort to the enemy.”
Enrico appeared.
“Mi Coronel, there is a German officer looking for el Capitán. I put him in the small office off the library.”
Grüner with the Knight’s Cross and the goddamned pillow, Peter thought.
“I will take you to him,” Frade announced.
“No, you won’t,” Claudia said. “You will stay here and have coffee. Alicia, would you please take el Capitán to the library?”
Alicia took von Wachtstein’s arm.
“Yes, of course, Mother,” she said, smiling sweetly at her sister.
XVI
[ONE]
1420 Avenue Alvear
Buenos Aires, Argentina
1430 19 December 1942
Clete Howell wasn’t able to get anywhere near Aunt Beatrice’s house in the Buick. So he parked three blocks away. As he uneasily left the car, the maid’s lecture on crime in the streets of Buenos Aires was very much on his mind. Then he stood in line. When he reached its head, he encountered a polite but firm plainclothes policeman, who seemed deeply saddened to inform him that without an invitation he could not enter the mansion.
Everything is going splendidly, Clete thought. Getting better and better every day in every way. Not only did that bastard Nestor as much as accuse me of cowardice for telling him the truth, but now they won’t let me into a funeral I don’t want to go to in the first place.
The more he thought about flying a TBF down from Brazil to torpedo the Reine de la Mer, the more it seemed like a good idea…the best he could come up with.