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

Christ, Welner drugged her!

She was an ordinary-looking middle-aged woman, just an inch the far side of plump. Her black, faintly patterned dress was dirt-smudged and torn in several places.

Her face was battered, and Clete had a mental image of the two gauchos trying to pull the massive Dorotea off her as Dorotea's arms flailed beating her.

"Mein Gott!" Oberstleutnant Frogger said softly.

"She'll be sore for a while, and I'm afraid she's going to lose a tooth," the priest said. "But aside from that, she's not seriously injured physically."

"She's sedated?" Oberstleutnant Frogger asked.

The priest nodded. "I gave her something."

"She attacked the Father," Herr Frogger said softly. "She . . . your mother smashed a water pitcher against the table, and then tried to shove what was left of it in the Father's face."

"She's disturbed," Father Welner said, using the calm, considerate tone of a priest.

"That makes trying to shove a broken water pitcher in your face okay?" Frade said sharply.

"We had to wrestle her to the ground," Herr Frogger said. He exhaled. "I had no idea she was that strong."

No one said anything for a moment.

"That's when Father gave her the injection," Herr Frogger said. "If he hadn't done that, I don't know what would have happened."

"How long will she be out?" Clete asked.

"She'll sleep soundly for four or five hours--perhaps longer, because she's physically exhausted as well--and then she will gradually become awake."

Oberstleutnant Frogger asked what Clete was thinking: "And then what?"

"Then we're back to square one," Clete said. "And we can't have that."

"My mother belongs in a hospital. Not for what that woman did to her, but for her . . . that uncontrollable, irrational rage."

"Colonel," Frade said. "You know that's not an option."

"Well, then," Oberstleutnant Frogger replied, "what do we do, put her in chains?"

"That is one option," Clete said.

"Cletus, you can't be serious," Father Welner said.

"I'm perfectly serious," Frade said. "She's made it clear that she will do anything--she could have killed Dorotea--to get away. She has decided that both her husband and her son are the enemy. And, for that matter, that you are. And since putting her in a hospital is out of the question, what other option is there?"

"Actually, I can think of one," the priest said.

"Well, let's have it," Frade said, more sharply than he intended.

"When your Aunt Beatriz became unstable after your cousin Jorge's passing--"

"He didn't pass, Father," Frade said. "You know what happened to him."

Oberstleutnant Frogger looked at Frade.

"He was an Argentine army officer, Colonel," Frade said. "A quote unquote neutral observer at Stalingrad. The damned fool went flying around in a Storch and got himself killed when it was shot down."

"That's a bit cruel, don't you think, Cletus?" the priest asked.

"It's the truth. Cruel? Maybe. We're in a cruel business. Let's hear your possible solution. The other options I can think of start with chaining her to the floor."

"At the risk of Major Frade taking offense at my defense of him, Father," Oberstleutnant Frogger said, "there are things in play here involving many lives."

"Are you going to tell me what they are?" the priest asked.

"No," Frade said. "And 'things in play here' was a very bad choice of words. The one thing we're not doing is playing."

The priest gathered his thoughts for a moment, then said, "All right, speaking bluntly: When your Aunt Beatriz lost control, your Uncle Humberto and your father were agreed that she should not be kept in the hospital any longer than necessary. A 'nervous breakdown' was one thing, perhaps even to be expected under the circumstances. An indefinite period of hospitalization in the psychiatric ward of the German Hospital was something else. 'What would people think? She could never raise her head in society again.' "

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Frade said disgustedly.

"Unfortunately, may God forgive them, it's true," the priest said. "The solution finally reached was that she would be released from the German Hospital, and as long as she could be controlled by drugs and kept under supervision, she would be allowed to remain at home."

"She doesn't seem to be very controlled to me," Frade said.

"Relatively speaking," the priest said carefully, "she's farther down the road to recovery than any of us thought would be the case. In the beginning, when we took her from the hospital, Cletus, your Aunt Beatriz was much sicker than she is today.

"But, as I was saying, in the event that she would not show improvement, or grew worse, another means to deal with the situation was put in place. There is a hospital operated by the Little Sisters of Santa Maria del Pilar in Mendoza. It's a nursing order, and the sisters--some of whom, including the Mother Superior, are physicians--have experience in dealing with the mentally ill--"

"Cutting to the chase," Clete interrupted. He saw on everyone's face that no one understood that, but went on anyway. "You're suggesting I put Frau Frogger in a psychiatric hospital in Mendoza? What's the difference between that and putting her in the German Hospital in Buenos Aires? She would either escape--"

"Let me finish, please, Cletus," the priest said, not very patiently.

"Sorry," Clete said, but it was clear he wasn't.

"That wine you're drinking comes from one of your vineyards, Don Guillermo, which is in the foothills of the Andes near Mendoza. On the property is a rather nice house, Casa Montagna, designed by an Italian architect for your Granduncle Guillermo in the Piedmont style. It sits on the side of a mountain overlooking the vineyards and the bodega. No one lives there, not even the Don Guillermo manager, but there is a small staff so that it will be ready on short notice should we need it for Beatriz. I can't remember your father ever going there or even mentioning it. I learned of it--went there--only after he had offered it to Humberto for Beatriz."

"I don't understand," Clete said.

"What Humberto did--actually, what I did for him--was convert one wing into a place where Beatriz could be cared for in comfort. I had the garden walled in, and converted the rooms above her apartment into living quarters suitable for the Little Sisters who would care for her around the clock."

"You arranged for the nuns?" Frade asked.

Welner nodded.

"The Mother Superior came to understand that the greatest good for the greatest number would come from the generous contribution that would be made by Humberto as an expression of his appreciation for the Little Sisters' care of Beatriz. They could use the money to treat the less fortunate."

"How could they have been sure Beatriz would stay there?" Frade asked.

"Well, they were prepared to watch her twenty-four hours a day. Suicide was a potential problem. Thank God that's passed. And as I said, the garden was walled in. There are locks."

"How much is it going to cost me to put Frau Frogger in there?"

"Wouldn't, using your terminology, 'putting Frau Frogger in there' be the decision of her family?"

"No," Frade said simply.

"We are in Major Frade's hands, Father," Oberstleutnant Frogger said.

"I can't be a party to taking her there as a prisoner," the priest said.

"If you can arrange for the nuns to take my wife, Father," Herr Frogger said, "you will be saving her life, mentally and physically."

And Frade had a sudden insight : Welner wouldn't have brought this up unless he knew it was the best solution possible. But he now has convinced Frogger, father and son, to think it's their idea.

Goddamn, he's clever!

"Then the problem becomes: How do we get her there?" Welner said.