“What’s your connection with her?” Mother Superior asked after a very long moment.
“Aside from telling you I’m an American intelligence officer, that’s none of your goddamn business.”
“I find it hard to believe the Germans would kill a woman,” Mother Superior said.
“Why not? They murdered my father, and they sort of liked him.”
“Your father was murdered by the Germans? I heard he was killed in a robbery attempt.”
“He was murdered in cold blood at the order of the same bastards who have tried hard to kill me twice, the last time yesterday.”
He saw the looks on Welner’s and Dorotea’s faces.
“No, I haven’t lost my mind. Since the Germans know who I am, and Colonel Martín knows what I do for a living, who are we trying to keep it a secret from?”
“There was another attempt on your life yesterday?” Father Welner said.
“Three guys in front of the house on Avenida Coronel Díaz,” Clete confirmed. “Rodríguez put two of them down, and I got the third one.” He looked at Mother Superior. “The story in La Nación said the police killed them during a robbery attempt.”
“You didn’t say anything,” Welner said.
“Rodríguez?” Mother Superior asked. “Enrico Rodríguez? Is that who you’re talking about? Your father’s—what’s that term?—batman?”
“I don’t know if he was my father’s batman or not,” Frade said. “But he was one of my father’s two true friends.”
“Father Welner being the other?” she asked.
Frade nodded.
“Are you aware, Cletus,” Mother Superior said, “that Enrico’s sister Marianna took care of you from the day you were born until your mother went to the United States?”
Frade nodded. “Yes, I am. La Señora Rodríguez de Pellano was my housekeeper in the house across from the Hipódromo on Libertador. She had her throat cut in my kitchen the night the assassins came after me the first time.”
“I hadn’t heard that,” Mother Superior said as she crossed herself. Then she added, “Where is Enrico now?”
“At the estancia with the German woman,” Clete replied.
“And what precisely is the nature of the German woman’s illness?”
“She’s crazy,” Frade said.
“Damn it, Cletus!” Dorotea said in exasperation.
Clete, unbowed, explained: “Yesterday, she told her sole surviving son that he’s a traitor who will burn in hell for all eternity. Doesn’t that sound a little crazy to you?”
“Her son is with her?” Mother Superior asked.
“And her husband,” Welner said.
“And six of my men, in case the Germans learn where they are and come to kill all three.”
A moment later, the door to the office opened and a nun—this time a huge one, reminding Clete of The Other Dorotea—stepped inside.
She had to be waiting outside, and somehow Mother Superior summoned her.
“Yes, Reverend Mother?”
“Please ask Sister Mónica to select three very reliable sisters to deal with a woman suffering from mental illness. Ask them to pack enough clothing for three or four days. Bring a van around. Put my medical bag in it. I will drive.”