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

"Madre de Dios," she said; tears ran down her face and she began to sob.

"It would be a kindness, Cletus," his father's voice came softly, from behind him, "if you permitted Se?ora Pellano to embrace you. She cared for you as an infant."

Cletus looked back at the woman and then, somewhat embarrassed, held his arms open. She wrapped her arms around him, put her face on his chest, and sobbed unashamedly.

"A bit overemotional, perhaps," Frade said. "But she means well."

Clete, very uncomfortable, nevertheless gave the woman all the time she wanted, until she finally pushed herself away.

"Pardon, Se?or," she said.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Se?ora," Clete said. It was the only thing he could think of to say.

"You can see his mother in his eyes, God grant that she rests with the angels and in peace," Se?ora Pellano said.

"Yes, I saw that," el Coronel Jorge Guillermo Frade said with emotion, and then found it necessary to blow his nose again. Then he cleared his throat. "Se?ora Pellano, I am going to show Cletus the house. If he finds it to his liking, he will be staying here. Perhaps you would be good enough to bring some coffee to the master suite?"

"S?, mi Coronel," Se?ora Pellano said.

I'm surprised he didn't order more booze. Why? Probably because he figures now that I've been convinced that we're all one big loving family, he wants to make sure I'm not too drunk to answer his questions when the questioning session begins.

The tour ended when Frade ushered his son up a narrow flight of

steps in the back of the house into a large suite on the top floor.

"There's an elevator," el Coronel said, pointing. Clete turned and saw a sliding door. "The stairs are for the servants, or, it was said, for ladies whom Uncle Guillermo brought in by the rear door.

"You normally keep shutters closed against me afternoon sun in the summer," Frade went on as he walked to the front of the room from the elevator, "but I will raise them to show you the vista."

He pulled hard, grunting, on a strip of canvas next to one of the windows, and a vertical shutter covering a French door leading to a balcony creaked upward.

"There, of course, is the Hipodromo," he said, pointing. "And the English Tennis Club. Beyond it is the River Plate. One day there will be an aeropuerto between here and the river; and there is talk of building a course for el Golf over there to the left. Do you play golf, Cletus?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Of course, and tennis, too. I will arrange for guest memberships at the English Tennis Club and at my golf club."

How the hell did he know I play tennis?

"In the afternoon, and at night, when the sun is down, you catch the wind from the river," Frade said.

Clete heard the elevator and turned in time to see the door slide open. Se?ora Pellano and the young maid who had opened the door were inside a beautifully paneled small elevator. Se?ora Pellano was carrying a coffee service, and the maid was carrying a tray with whiskey.

"So what do you think, Cletus? Would you be comfortable here?" Frade asked as he collapsed into a leather armchair.

"The house is beautiful," Clete said.

It was not as large as it looked. Most of the rooms were small. In square feet, it was probably not as big as the house on St. Charles Avenue. And for that matter, there were probably more square feet in the houses in Midland and on me ranch. But it was inarguably more elegant than any of them, with crystal chandeliers in most of the rooms and corridors, and ornate bronze banisters on the stairway. And the luxuriously furnished suite which occupied all of the top floor certainly proved that Granduncle Guillermo knew how to take care of himself.

"Se?ora Pellano," Frade said as she poured him a scotch, "if Se?or Cletus were to move in here, have I your promise you will care for him well?"

"With joy, mi Coronel."

"Then it's settled. Telephone to Se?or Mallin's Alberto, por favor. Tell him to pack Se?or Cletus's things, and that Enrico will be there immediately to pick them up. And then telephone Enrico at the Big House and tell him to go there and bring Se?or Cletus's things here."

"S?, mi Coronel," Se?ora Pellano said, and smiled warmly at Clete.

"Sir," Clete began—and wondered again why he could not bring himself to say "Father"—"wouldn't it be better if I went over there and got my things, and said good-bye and thank you?''

"I do not think I quite understand..."

"Sir, this strikes me as perhaps a little rude, just sending someone there to get my clothing."

"No, not at all. So far as good manners are concerned, I will have flowers sent in your name to Se?ora de Mallin, and some small gifts to the children, and a case of whiskey to Mallin himself. I will send him something else as well—perhaps a set of silver cups engraved with the crest of the regiment and my name. I think he would like that, as a token of my appreciation for his hospitality to you. That should take care of things."

"Well, if you say so."

"And then, of course, I suspect Mallin will be rather glad to have you out of his house."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You remember Teniente Coronel Martin—the fellow we "bumped into' in the hotel? ... I still haven't worked that out; he's too important in the BIS to conduct surveillances himself. ... Martin came to see me, asking about you and your friend. If he did that, it follows that he has also been to see Mallin, or else will shortly do so. I suspect Mallin will be pleased mat you will no longer be a guest in his house."

"You make the BIS sound like the Gestapo."

"I don't think they're quite that ruthless. But they are good. Don't worry about them. Since you're here simply to ensure that Venezuelan petroleum is not diverted to the Germans, once they convince themselves of that, they will have no further interest in you."

What's that? My invitation to tell you what I'm really doing here? No way, Daddy.

Clete forced himself to look at his father. His father was reaching over the side of his chair to pick up his drink. Clete walked to the window and looked out.

There was activity at the racetrack. Exercise boys were walking horses back to stables after a race. Clete watched as a rambunctious horse got away from its handler and trotted insolently down the track, obviously enjoying itself.

He turned to face his father, to play it by ear.

That's all I can do, play it by ear.

His father was slumped in the armchair, his hand holding the whiskey glass on the armrest. But his head was bent forward, his mouth was open, and his eyes were closed; he was asleep, and snoring.

I’ll be damned, he's passed out, or the next thing to it. He really was putting all the booze away.

Clete felt nature's call and found the bathroom. In it he found proof that Granduncle Guillermo expected female guests in his room. The bathroom was equipped with a plumbing fixture Clete had first seen on the island of Espiritu Santo, in the house of a French plantation owner taken over as a transient quarters. Sullivan had used it, with some success, to cool bottles of Australian beer.

Clete examined the fixture with interest, wondering exactly how it worked. When he completed his primary purpose in the bathroom, he bent over the fixture and tried the faucets, one at a time. The prize for his curiosity was a sudden burst of water at his face from what he thought was a drain.

He dried himself, torn between amusement and humiliation, and returned to the apartment.

Se?ora Pellano was there, along with a burly man in a brown suit. They were both looking down at the soundly sleeping Coronel.

"Who are you?" Clete demanded.

"I am Enrico, mi Teniente," the man said. "I have come to take care of el Coronel."

"I see," Clete asked, and then blurted, "Does he do this sort of thing often?"