W. IV - Honor Bound 05 - The Honor of Spies

"How nice of him!"

The doorbell at the door behind them sounded loudly.

"Well, that's the chukker," Dorotea announced. "One to go. If my husband will pull me out of this chair, I'll forgo that and see about lunch."

"Subinspector Nowicki may drop by, Dona Dorotea," Nervo said.

"I'll set a place for him," she said, and raised both arms toward Clete.

He gently pulled her out of the chair.

"Thank you," she said. "But don't think I'm ever going to forgive you for putting me into this condition."

Nervo laughed.

Dorotea walked into the house as Wilhelm Fischer came out with a wineglass. She returned a few minutes later.

"So how were things in San Martin de los Andes?" Clete asked Nervo.

"Why don't we wait until Nowicki and Sawyer are with us?" Martin asked. He pointed at Sawyer.

"I've never met him," Nervo said. "But he's not too bad a polo player--for an American--is he?"

"You were about to tell us, mi general, " Clete said, "why your duty took you in such a hurry to San Martin de los Andes." He paused, and raised a bottle. "Another little sip of our humble Don Guillermo Cabernet Sauvignon, mi general ?"

"Don't mind if I do," Nervo said. He turned to Fischer. "Before you came here, Senor Fischer, to improve the quality of the grapes, I've been told this stuff was practically undrinkable."

"I'm so glad I've been able to helpful, mi general, " Fischer said.

"Then you won't be taking a couple of cases back to Buenos Aires with you?" Frade asked.

"The hell I won't. I accept your gracious offer. But I must say that if I didn't know better, Don Cletus, I might think you're trying to get me to tell you things I shouldn't."

"You bet your ass I am, mi general, " Clete said. "What's going on in San Martin de los Andes?"

"Well, among other things, the murderer of your father has finally been identified," Nervo said.

"Really?" Clete asked very softly.

"You did it. Or at least ordered it."

"What?" Dorotea exclaimed.

"Or so Senor Schenck told at dinner to a group of el Coronel Schmidt's officers--one of whom just happens to work for Bernardo."

Clete just looked at him.

"Would you like me to go on, or would you prefer me to start at the beginning?"

"Try the beginning," Clete said.

"If you'd prefer. Well, the first interesting thing that happened was that we now have a beautiful blonde in the picture. Von Gradny-Sawz's friend in the Interior Ministry got her a National Identity booklet identifying her as Senora Griselda Schenck, who you will recall died several years ago in an auto crash that also killed her loving husband, Jorge.

"The second interesting thing that happened was that the Uruguayan authorities asked the Policia Nacional to contact a woman by the name of Inge von Tresmarck. They wanted to know if she could shed any light on the whereabouts of her husband, Sturmbannfuhrer Werner von Tresmarck, the security officer of the German Embassy in Montevideo whom the Germans had reported to be missing. The Uruguayans said they knew Senora von Tresmarck had taken the overnight steamer to Buenos Aires.

"Diligent police work revealed that Senora von Tresmarck had taken a room at the Alvear Palace Hotel. She then went shopping, leaving a message to that effect with the hotel switchboard. She never returned to the Alvear Palace."

"Von Tresmarck is missing?" Clete asked. "What the hell is that all about?"

Nervo did not reply.

"Then we learned that the ever-obliging von Gradny-Sawz purchased a car--a 1941 Ford station wagon--for Senor Schenck. The Automobile Club requires people who want insurance to appear in person. Senor Schenck did so, and while he was there availed himself of the ACA's free travel services. They provided him with road maps, on which the route to San Martin de los Andes was marked, and made a reservation for him and Senora Schenck at the Rio Hermoso Hotel in San Martin."

"Which is where Schmidt is, right?"

Again, Nervo did not reply.

"By the time all these details came to my attention, and Alejandro's--sometimes the Policia Nacional is a little slow--Senor and Senora Schenck were well on their way to San Martin de los Andes.

"By the time we got there, the Schencks had already been entertained at dinner in el Coronel Schmidt's quarters and, the morning following, had departed for San Carlos de Bariloche--"

"That's where Kortig is," Frade interrupted. "Or at least where he's headed."

"Tell me about that," Martin said.

"Welner 'just happened to hear' . . ."

"Father Kurt Welner, S.J.? That Welner?" Nervo asked.

"That Welner."

"And you can't bring yourself to call him 'Father'? Out of simple respect for the cloth?"

"I don't call you 'General' all the time, either, mi general ."

"Perhaps you should. A little proper respect goes a long way with me. So tell me, Senor Heathen, what did the Reverend Father Kurt Welner of the Society of Jesus 'just happen to hear'?"

"The other Jesuit, the one who gets National Identity documents . . ."

"The Reverend Father Francisco Silva, S.J.? That Jesuit?"

"That's the one. He showed up here and said that Welner had 'just happened to hear' that a small country hotel in Bariloche was up for sale, and he thought it just might be what we were looking for to put up the Gehlen people."

"Beware of Jesuits bearing gifts," Nervo said.

"And that, since he just happened to be driving that way anyway, he thought I might want to take a look at it."

"Could be one of two things," Nervo said. "Holy Mother Church might want to dump a hotel they own that's not making them enough money--or is termite-infested--on a gringo with money, or our wily Jesuit is being accommodating to this Gehlen fellow, for good reasons of his own that I can't even guess at."

"Well, since real-estate appraisal is not among my many other skills, I gave Kortig a pistol and sent Pablo Alvarez . . ."

"The estancia manager?" Martin asked. "Apparently, he knows what's going on and can be trusted?"

Frade nodded, and picked up the rest: ". . . with him to have a look at the hotel in Bariloche, and at other properties on the way. Pablo has friends all over this part of Argentina."

"Who wouldn't be surprised if he was quietly buying property for a friend of yours?" Martin asked.

"Yeah," Clete said.

"You gave Kortig a pistol?" Nervo asked.

"He asked for one, and I gave him one," Frade replied. "There are people who don't like people who like Valkyries. He wanted to be able to defend himself. That sounded reasonable to me."

"He gave me one, too, General," Fischer said. "For the same reason."

Nervo's eyebrow rose, but he didn't say anything.

"Where's the other German?" Martin asked.

"Well, I didn't give that Nazi sonofabitch a pistol," Frade replied. "If I did, once he finds out--if he doesn't already know--how my grape expert rides around with the Valkyries, he would be duty bound to use it on him. I've got him under sort of house arrest; I don't know what the hell else to do with him."

"Just don't let him get loose," Nervo said.

"I hope he doesn't try to get away. I told him if he or his wife tried, I'd shoot both of them. I don't want him calling my bluff."

Nervo looked as if he was about to reply, then stopped and said: "I was telling you about the dinner party Schmidt gave for some of his officers and the Schencks. According to Martin's guy, they toasted El Presidente, and then the Fuhrer, as Schmidt stood before the Argentine flag and a swastika. . . ."

"What did you say about von Deitzberg accusing me of ordering my father's murder?"

"Senor Schenck gave a little speech, winding it up with saying what great pleasure it was going to give him to do his duty executing not only the Froggers and Sturmbannfuhrer von Tresmarck for treason, but also the even more despicable Milton Leibermann for encouraging the Froggers to desert, and the most despicable of all, the evil Don Cletus Frade, who, when he failed to turn his father into a traitor, ordered his murder and promptly placed all Frade assets in the hands of international Jewry."