“Congratulations! You have just won the cement bicycle and an all-expenses-paid tour of downtown Mendoza.”
“I presume,” Cletus Marcus Howell said, “that when you’re through being clever, you will tell us what happened to the guy in the truck.”
“Certainly,” Clete replied. “After an absolutely brilliant interrogation by General Martín . . .”
“Yes, it was,” General Nervo agreed. “He should really consider a career in intelligence.”
“Or maybe becoming a Jesuit,” Clete said. “They’re always trying to get people to confess their sins.”
“I don’t know if he could handle that,” Nervo said. “The obedience and poverty that goes with it, maybe. But the chastity?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Cletus Marcus Howell exploded.
“You both will go to hell for such mockery,” Father Welner said.
“Sorry,” Clete said. “As I was saying, Captain O’Reilley fessed up. More important, he’s going to confess all—all including that the villain behind the surveillance of Casa Montagna and the ambush on Route 60 is el Coronel Hans Klausberger. And more important than that, he’s going to tell my Tío Juan all about it just as soon as we can get him to Buenos Aires. Him and our Jesuit.”
“Tonight?” Doña Dorotea asked.
“Just as soon as we can round up half a dozen Húsares to go with them.”
“And the purpose of telling Colonel Perón is . . . ?” the old man asked.
“To keep his attention away from what we’re doing down south until after we do it.”
“And why is Jimmy going along?” Marjie asked.
“This is Argentina, Squirt,” Clete said, “where women are not allowed to ask questions.”
“Screw you, Cletus,” Marjie said.
“This woman, Cletus,” Martha began, paused, then said, “My God! I can’t believe you—either of you—said what you did. But this woman asks questions wherever she damned well pleases. Cletus, why is Jimmy flying, not you?”
“Because if I go to Buenos Aires, I’ll have to deal with my Tío Juan. And because Jimmy needs the practice.”
“Practice for what?” Marjie asked.
Clete didn’t have to answer the question. Enrico Rodríguez came into the bar.
“The men are in the station wagons, Don Cletus.”
“Let’s go, guys,” Clete ordered.
“Hansel will need a change of clothes,” Doña Alicia said.
“No, he won’t,” Clete said. “As soon as he unloads and arranges for one—or, better, two—SAA Lodestars to come here, he’ll be coming back.”
“Why more airplanes?” the old man asked.
“I have a hunch we’re going to need them down south,” Clete said.
—
Doña Alicia, Doña Dorotea, and Martha Howell went out onto the veranda to see their men off with a kiss.
So did Marjie.
“Hey, Mom,” Marjie said. “Watch me piss Clete off!”