“I’d like to influence you,” Clete said. “Your neutrality, your alleged neutrality, in this war makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Does it indeed?” his father asked, his face tightening.
“You—and the BIS—apparently know all about the Reine de la Mer. You even called it a German ship just now. And you close your eyes to it. If you were really neutral, you’d have done something about it.”
“You seem to know a good deal about it yourself,” Frade challenged. “You know its name…very informative.?
?
“If you hadn’t closed your eyes to the Germans’ replenishing their submarines in your sacred neutral waters, it wouldn’t have been necessary for the U.S. government to send people down here to do something about it.”
“Has it occurred to you that if the United States government had not sent you down here, Señora Pel—what happened to Señora Pellano would not have happened?”
Clete felt anger welling up.
“I’m as sorry as you are that Señora Pellano was killed. I was goddamned fond of her. She’ll be on my conscience, all right. But not because I’m here doing what I was sent here to do, but because I forgot for a moment that the Germans have no qualms about killing innocent people. They kill innocent people by the millions. What’s one more?”
“In the First World War, Allied propaganda showed German soldiers bayoneting babies in Belgium. That Allied Declaration, if that’s what you’re talking about, is the same sort of thing.”
“If you believe that, I feel sorry for you.” Clete said softly. He was aware that the flash of anger was replaced by a sad resignation, as if their roles were now reversed…as if he was now the parent talking to the child who would not accept the unpleasant truth.
“International law…” Colonel Frade began, and stopped.
“I should have protected her,” Clete said, his voice calm and sad, “and I didn’t. I’m ashamed of that. But I’m not ashamed of coming here to do what I was sent to do. If there’s any shame, you should feel it, because Argentina is too stupid or selfish to know or care what this war is all about.”
His father’s face grew white. It was a moment before he spoke.
“El Almirante de Montoya believes it will be best for you, under the circumstances, to remain here in the hospital for the next few days.”
“Who? Admiral who?”
“El Almirante de Montoya is Chief of the Bureau of Internal Security. He has assumed jurisdiction in your case. Fortunately, he and I are friends, because your fate is in his hands.”
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“When de Montoya feels it would be safe for you to leave the hospital, you will come to the estancia, until I can arrange to send you safely out of the country.”
“I’m not leaving the country,” Clete said.
His father met his eyes.
“You have no choice in the matter.”
“I’m not finished here. I killed the men who killed Señora Pellano,” Clete said. “Now I want to get at the people who hired them. The Germans.”
“You don’t know for a fact that the Germans were behind this.”
“Of course it was the Germans,” Clete said, less angrily than sadly. “Don’t tell me you closed your eyes to that too.”
As if he had not heard a word, el Coronel Frade went on: “I have arranged for the release of Señora Pellano’s body. I will accompany it to the estancia, where she will be buried. De Montoya has agreed to release you from here in time to attend Señora Pellano’s funeral. That will provide a satisfactory reason for you to move to the estancia. You will stay there until I can make arrangements for you to leave the country. In the meantime, Enrico will stay with you.”
“What? What for?”
“If one attempt to kill you was made, there will probably be another.”
“But there are guards in the corridor.”
“I know where Enrico’s loyalties lie,” Frade said simply. “Enrico will stay with you.