Boltitz replied, quite honestly, that he really had no idea…only questions.
“One of the theories, you know,” Cranz said, “is that it had absolutely nothing to do with Operation Phoenix; that it was simply the Argentine officer corps’ expression of disapproval over the elimination of Oberst Frade.”
“How would the Argentines have known when and where the landing from the Océano Pacífico would be made?”
“You think, then, do you, that treason is involved?”
“It’s not unlikely that the Argentines have someone in the embassy. That makes it espionage, or, if you like, counterespionage, on the part of the Argentines, rather than treason on the part of a German.”
“Interesting,” Cranz said.
“The problem with that theory—and it’s only a theory—is that if the Argentines do have somebody in the embassy who had access to the when-and-where information, they might also have access to the what information.”
“If they had known the what—the nature of the special shipment—wouldn’t they have tried to seize it?”
“That would have made it pretty obvious that they have someone in the embassy, wouldn’t you think?”
“There’s a man in their Bureau of Internal Security, an Oberstleutnant named Martín—”
“Who is supposed to be very clever,” Boltitz interrupted, “and who, incidentally, has been promoted Oberst.”
Cranz had looked at him thoughtfully. “I hadn’t heard about the promotion,” he said, and then: “In other words, you’re suggesting that if he had to give up something—the special shipment or his man in the embassy—Oberst Martín decided to give up the special shipment?”
“It’s a possibility,” Boltitz said, “But I repeat, I really have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Neither of us does, I’m afraid,” Cranz said, and then, making it sound as if the thought had just occurred to him, asked, “What do you think about going to Lisbon to meet the Condor from Buenos Aires?”
“That’s a very good idea,” Boltitz replied honestly.
Cranz smiled and nodded. “And since Portugal is not involved in this war,” he said, “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if I found some really nice things in Lisbon for the wife and kids.”
In Lisbon, Boltitz was once again taken on shopping expeditions, during the course of which Cranz found it necessary to buy a huge suitcase to carry all the nice things he’d found for the wife and kids.
That night at dinner, Cranz threw another idea on the table, again making it sound as if it had just occurred to him. “What if we take our people off the airplane?” he asked. “They’re certain to be tired after their flight. We could take them out to dinner….”
“In vino veritas?” Boltitz asked.
Cranz nodded. “We could put them on the Swiss Airways flight to Zurich tomorrow,” he said. “I really would like more than an hour or two with them.”
And you didn’t think about that until just now, right?
“And if we did that, and went with them, there would be another advantage,” Cranz went on with a conspiratorial smile. “We wouldn’t have to spend hours typing up a report.”
“And then we’d fly back to Cadiz?”
“Why not?”
“What about tickets and visas for them to enter Portugal?” Boltitz asked.
Cranz tapped the breast of his suit jacket and winked, making it clear that he had considered that some time before.
Boltitz and Cranz rode to the airport in a Mercedes sedan assigned to the Naval Attaché of the German Embassy, with a second car, an embassy Opel Kapitän, following them. Boltitz had known the attaché from their cadet days at the Naval Academy.
At the airport, they found that the people they wanted to see were effectively sealed off in the Transit Lounge since, de jure, the In Transit passengers had not been admitted into Portugal. That meant that Boltitz and Cranz had more than a little difficulty getting in.
However, a combination of diplomatic indignation (they were carrying diplomatic passports and carnets issued by the Portuguese Foreign Ministry identifying them as diplomats attached to the German Embassy), Cranz’s charm, and a small gift of cash got them through the locked doors fifteen minutes before the Condor landed.
Though the lounge was small and sparsely furnished, there were comfortable leather armchairs. There was also a counter that offered sandwiches and coffee, and, of course, there were rest rooms. On a small table between the doors to the rest rooms someone had erected a neat triangle of rolls of toilet tissue.