“He then summoned the police, who upon arrival, dispatched Señor Frade to a hospital for treatment of his wounds, and began an investigation into the identity of the criminals.”
The Herald has been unable to obtain any details concerning Mr. Frade’s condition, but a police official who did not wish to be identified said that the scene of the shooting was bathed with blood, that “many shots were exchanged,” and that Mr. Frade was “extremely lucky to have survived the encounter.” The same official said that Mr. Frade, who has been living in the United States, recently returned to Argentina as General Manager of Howell Petroleum, Venezuela, and has been living in the residence temporarily.
“These were obviously brutal, hardened criminals,” this official stated. “And it was only God’s mercy and Señor Frade’s great personal courage that saved his life. Clearly, if he had been unarmed, he would have suffered the same tragic fate as Señora Pellano.”
* * *
“Everything is bullshit, except that they murdered Señora Pellano.”
“The guy that came to get me said they cut her throat, practically cut her head off,” Tony interrupted.
Clete saw Enrico’s face darken.
“Señora Pellano was Sergeant Major Rodríguez’s sister, Tony,” Clete said evenly.
“Jesus! Sorry, Sergeant,” Tony said. “I didn’t know.”
Enrico nodded: It doesn’t matter. No offense.
“So who were these guys? I didn’t think they were burglars. Real mafiosi? Italians?”
Clete nodded. “I don’t know if they were Italians. But local gangsters. They were sent to kill me. Almost certainly by the Germans. So they knew about me. And if they know about me, they probably know about you. And maybe about David, too.”
Tony accepted that without much surprise.
“How do you think they found out?”
“My father was here. He let it out that the BIS know we work for the OSS. There must be somebody in the BIS talking to the Germans.”
“And you just got lucky when they came after you?”
“I was warned they were coming. And just in time.”
That got Tony’s attention.
“By who?”
“Tony, I just can’t tell you that.”
“Why not?”
“I just can’t.”
Tony considered that a moment, and drew his own conclusion, which obviously pleased him.
“We’ve got somebody in with the Germans?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Tony shrugged, signifying Clete didn’t have to put it in words, that’s what it had to be.
“So what happens now?”
“I don’t know,” Clete said. “My father’s going to have me expelled from Argentina. And the destroyer will be here in a couple of days. I’m going to have to leave…unless, of course, I can get to use the destroyer’s radios and get in touch with Colonel Graham. The best I can hope for is that my father can’t have me expelled before the destroyer gets here.”
“So what happens to Ettinger and me? What do you want us to do?”
“Nothing. I brought you in here to tell you what happened at the Guest House. And to tell you to watch out for yourselves. But nothing’s changed about the orders I gave you. Just sit tight.”