Griffin W.E.B. - Honor Bound 01 - Honor Bound

Graham had told him that Argentine Internal Security was very good.

Did finding nothing satisfy them? Or just increase their curiosity?

Forty minutes later, after a long hot shower to remove the grime of the flight, and an even longer cold shower to force his libido under control, Clete dressed in a seersucker suit, went down the wide stairs to the foyer, and looked in the sitting room.

Mallin waved him in.

"Feel a little better?" he asked.

"Much better, thank you."

"Another little belt before dinner?" Mallin asked.

"Thank you, no."

"One is usually enough for me, too," Mallin said.

Christ, it should be. There must have been four ounces of scotch in the drink you gave me.

"... and then I usually have a glass of wine for the appetite. May I interest you... ?"

"Thank you," Clete said.

Mallin poured him a glass of a red wine. Clete sipped it. It was very good. He said so.

"They call it Malbec. It... the vines, the cuttings, originally came from France. Bordeaux. This comes from a vineyard in Mendoza Province, near the Andes, in which I have a small interest."

"It's very nice," Clete said.

"There are those—your grandfather among them, by the way-who have been kind enough to suggest that Malbec is better than some French Bordeaux. I sent a few cases to him after my visit to your home in New Orleans."

"It's very nice," Clete repeated. "A little cleaner than most French Bordeaux, now that you mention it."

"If you like it, I am pleased," Mallin said.

"Papa?" a young male voice called from the door. Clete turned to see a boy of fourteen, fifteen, blond and fair-skinned, standing in the door. He was wearing short pants, knee-high socks, and a blazer with an embroidered insignia on the pocket.

That's obviously a school uniform,Clete thought. He looks as if he's in the Third Form at St. Mark's, or one of the other St. Grottlesex schools patterned after English public schools. For that matter, he looks as if he's in his second year at Harrow.

"Enrico, come in and greet our guest," Mallin said. "And since this is a special occasion, you may join us in a glass of wine."

The boy walked to Clete, looking at him with frank curiosity, and put out his hand.

"Enrico, this is Mr. Frade," Mallin said.

"How do you do, Sir?" the boy said.

"How are you, Enrico?"

"You are the gentleman from Texas?" Little Enrico asked, dubiously.

"Yes, I am. I left my horse and six-shooter in the garage."

"But you are wearing boots."

"Enrico!" Mallin protested. "Your manners!"

"I thought you had gauchos down here. Don't they wear boots?"

"We don't have gauchos in the house," Little Enrico said, shocked at the notion.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Clete said.

"Enrico, you owe Mr. Frade an apology. I can't believe you said that."

"He owes me no apology," Clete said. "We have a saying in Texas, Enrico, that you never have to apologize for the truth."

"Really?" Little Enrico asked delightedly.

"Unless that truth is that your friend's girlfriend is fat and ugly," Clete added.

Little Enrico laughed delightedly.

"Whose girlfriend is fat and ugly?" Pamela asked as she and the Virgin Princess walked into the sitting room. The Virgin Princess now had her hair swept neatly upward. She was wearing a yellow linen dress and a strand of pearls which rested in the valley of her breasts. She was wearing high heels, which made her calves even more perfect than when Clete first saw her.

"Enrico's," Clete said. "But he says he doesn't mind, he loves her anyway."

"I said nothing of the kind!" Little Enrico protested, but he giggled.

The Virgin Princess smiled at her brother; her mouth now wore an entirely delightful if faint coat of lipstick. Then she looked at Clete, and their eyes met for just a second, until, his heart jumping, he quickly looked away.

"Will you have some wine, darling?" Mallin asked.

"Yes, please."

"Dorotea?"

"Please, Daddy," the Virgin Princess said.

Mallin was still pouring the wine when Alberto appeared in the door and announced that dinner was served.

"No problem," Pamela said. "We'll just carry our glasses in with us."

That was done formally too. Pamela took her husband's arm. The Virgin Princess took Clete's, and they marched into the dining room with Little Enrico trailing along behind.

Clete did what he could to keep his eyes off the Virgin Princess during dinner. And he was torn between deep regret and enormous relief when Pamela announced afterward, "We'll say good night now, Clete. I know Henry and you have a good deal to talk about."

And the first thing we're going to talk about is finding an apartment for me tomorrow. If I don't get out of this house quickly, I won't be shot by ' 'Internal Security.'' An outraged daddy will do it for making improper advances to his daughter.

"Thank you for a lovely dinner," Clete said.

"Good night, Mr. Frade," both Mallin children said politely, and both politely offered him their hands. For a moment, Clete's eyes again met those of the Virgin Princess.

Jesus Christ, I didn't know they came that beautiful!

[THREE]

Bureau of Internal Security

Ministry of Defense

Edificio Libertador

Avenida Paseo Colon

Buenos Aires

0915 22 November 1942

Comandante—Major—Carlos Habanzo, a stocky, dark-skinned thirty-one-year-old, stood at el Teniente Coronel Bernardo Martin's office door holding a large envelope and wearing a somewhat nervous smile. Habanzo was wearing a brown suit that was too tight around both the shoulders and the crotch, Martin noticed.

Martin waved him in.

"Buenos dias, Habanzo," Martin said. "What do you have for me?" He was a tall, fair-haired, light-skinned man of thirty-five in a well-cut glen plaid suit and a regimentally striped tie.

"Buenos dias, mi Coronel," Habanzo replied, then walked up to Martin's desk, laid the envelope before him, and stepped back from the desk.

Martin opened the envelope.

These are grainy, but very good,Martin decided. There is only so much that can be done with a high-speed 35-mm negative, even one made by a Leica.

As a gesture of friendship, el Coronel Gr?ner, the German military attach6—and the Abwehr's man in Buenos Aires; it was not much of a secret—had arranged for the Defense Ministry to buy a half-dozen Leica I-C 35-mm cameras, at giveaway prices. They were the best tool around for surreptitious photography, and for photographing documents.

"These were taken yesterday, mi Coronel," Habanzo offered. "When the Pan American Clipper landed, and at the Alvear Palace ..."

"Which one is young Frade?" Martin interrupted.

"The tall one, mi Coronel."

"And he is staying at the Alvear Palace?" .

"No, mi Coronel. He was taken to Se?or Mallin's home by Se?or Mallin. There are photos ..."

"You recognized Se?or Mallin, did you, Habanzo?" Martin interrupted again.

"Of course, mi Coronel."

Martin found the entry of Enrico Mallin into the puzzle fascinating.

"Thank you, Habanzo," Martin said. "Please give my compliments to whoever took these. They will doubtless prove very useful."

Habanzo beamed at the compliment.

"That will be all, Habanzo. Thank you," Martin said.

"Con permiso, mi Coronel," Habanzo said, came to attention, did an about-face, and marched out of the room.

Martin examined the photographs again. If one looked for it, one could see a strong family resemblance on young Frade's face. Martin had looked at enough photographs of el Coronel Frade to know his almost as well as his own.

Well, he's here, and he's his father's son. Now I'll have to bring The Admiral in on this, especially with the introduction of Mallin into the puzzle.

The Admiral was el Almirante Francisco de Montoya, the Chief of the Bureau of Internal Security of the Ministry of National Defense, to whom el Teniente Coronel Martin reported directly. Martin's most important responsibility (as Chief of the innocuously named Ethical Standards Office) was to keep an eye on the Grupo de Oficiales Unidos, which was strongly suspected of planning a coup d'?tat against the president.