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

"When your father and mother were first married, they spent a good deal of their time here. Your mother loved Casa Montagna. She came to a retreat here at the convent, and we met. She knew that she was ill, so we prayed together for the safe delivery of her first child--you--and rejoiced together when that happened."

Clete looked at Welner.

"Obviously, you didn't know about this?"

The priest shook his head.

"Let me tell you about my father," Clete said, still speaking very softly. "He didn't abandon me. There were two factors involved. One was my grandfather, my mother's father. He could not find it in his heart--and still doesn't--to forgive the Catholic Church for convincing my mother that contraception was a sin, even when another pregnancy would probably kill her. As it did.

"When my mother died, and my father tried to bring me to Argentina, my grandfather stopped him and had him deported. When my father reentered the United States from Mexico with the intent to take me, my grandfather had him arrested, and my father spent ninety days in chains on a Texas road gang for illegal entry. My grandfather had my father's visa revoked so that he could never again legally enter the United States. It was implied that my mother's father would have my father killed if he again returned and tried to take me.

"My father could have, of course, made an effort to kidnap me, and he told me that he had considered this seriously. But finally he realized that he couldn't, even shouldn't, try to raise an infant by himself. There were two female relatives who could. One was my Aunt Martha, my mother's brother's wife, a good solid woman, and the other was his sister, and my father knew Beatriz was a fruitcake."

"Cletus!" Dorotea exclaimed.

Clete looked at her, then back at the Mother Superior, and despite not trusting his voice as his anger rose, went on: "My father decided that what was best for me was my Aunt Martha. And he was right. You have nothing to forgive him for. And as far as abandoning me is concerned, not only did he not marry the woman he loved for the rest of his life, because your country's absurd rules of inheritance would have kept him from leaving me everything he owned, but he hired people to keep an eye on me. He knew every time I fell off my horse. The shelves in his study at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo are lined with scrapbooks about me, and the walls covered with pictures of me."

Clete felt his throat constrict, cleared it, then finished: "And as far as forgiving people is concerned, my father told me he long ago had forgiven my grandfather for what the man had done to him. He said in his shoes he would have done the same thing."

Mother Superior looked at him for a long moment.

"Your mother, may she rest in peace, would be pleased to know you were reunited with your father," she said finally.

"Are we through here?" Frade said sharply, and stood.

"I thought you came here seeking my help," Mother Superior said.

"Sit down, darling," Dorotea ordered softly.

Father Welner made a Sit down gesture. After a moment, Frade made a face, then slowly sank back in his seat.

"We have a woman with us who is mentally ill," Welner began. "She needs not only care but . . . it's rather delicate, Mother."

"Who is she?" Mother Superior asked.

"I'll tell you who she is," Frade said. "And if you let your mouth run, her death will be on your conscience--"

"Cletus!" Dorotea said warningly.

"She's a German, a Nazi, and if the Germans find out where she is, they will do their best to kill her and her husband--and maybe anyone else who gets in their way."

"What's your connection with her?" Mother Superior asked after a very long moment.

"Aside from telling you I'm an American intelligence officer, that's none of your goddamn business."

"I find it hard to believe the Germans would kill a woman," Mother Superior said.

"Why not? They murdered my father, and they sort of liked him."

"Your father was murdered by the Germans? I heard he was killed in a robbery attempt."

"He was murdered in cold blood at the order of the same bastards who have tried hard to kill me twice, the last time yesterday."

He saw the looks on Welner's and Dorotea's faces.

"No, I haven't lost my mind. Since the Germans know who I am, and Colonel Martin knows what I do for a living, who are we trying to keep it a secret from?"

"There was another attempt on your life yesterday?" Father Welner said.

"Three guys in front of the house on Avenida Coronel Diaz," Clete confirmed. "Rodriguez put two of them down, and I got the third one." He looked at Mother Superior. "The story in La Nacion said the police killed them during a robbery attempt."

"You didn't say anything," Welner said.

"Rodriguez?" Mother Superior asked. " Enrico Rodriguez? Is that who you're talking about? Your father's--what's that term?-- batman ?"

"I don't know if he was my father's batman or not," Frade said. "But he was one of my father's two true friends."

"Father Welner being the other?" she asked.

Frade nodded.

"Are you aware, Cletus," Mother Superior said, "that Enrico's sister Marianna took care of you from the day you were born until your mother went to the United States?"

Frade nodded. "Yes, I am. La Senora Rodriguez de Pellano was my housekeeper in the house across from the Hipodromo on Libertador. She had her throat cut in my kitchen the night the assassins came after me the first time."

"I hadn't heard that," Mother Superior said as she crossed herself. Then she added, "Where is Enrico now?"

"At the estancia with the German woman," Clete replied.

"And what precisely is the nature of the German woman's illness?"

"She's crazy," Frade said.

"Damn it, Cletus!" Dorotea said in exasperation.

Clete, unbowed, explained: "Yesterday, she told her sole surviving son that he's a traitor who will burn in hell for all eternity. Doesn't that sound a little crazy to you?"

"Her son is with her?" Mother Superior asked.

"And her husband," Welner said.

"And six of my men, in case the Germans learn where they are and come to kill all three."

A moment later, the door to the office opened and a nun--this time a huge one, reminding Clete of The Other Dorotea--stepped inside.

She had to be waiting outside, and somehow Mother Superior summoned her.

"Yes, Reverend Mother?"

"Please ask Sister Monica to select three very reliable sisters to deal with a woman suffering from mental illness. Ask them to pack enough clothing for three or four days. Bring a van around. Put my medical bag in it. I will drive."

"Yes, Reverend Mother."

The huge nun left, carefully closing the door behind her.

"That will take a few minutes," Mother Superior said. "There's no reason for everyone to wait for me. I know my way out there. And if you would be so good, Father, to hear my confession while we wait?"

[THREE]

Casa Montagna

Estancia Don Guillermo

Km 40.4, Provincial Route 60

Mendoza Province, Argentina

1915 14 August 1943

Darkness had fallen, but there was enough light from the headlights for Clete to be able to see the white stone kilometer markers along the road as the resident manager of Estancia Don Guillermo--whose name, if he had ever known it, Clete had forgotten--drove the Lincoln down the macadam road.

They were now at Km 39.8.

That means we're point-six kilometer from where we'll turn onto Estancia Don Guillermo, and thirty-nine-point-eight kilometers from where they started counting, probably at a marker in the Mendoza town square.

That's not saying we're thirty-nine-point-eight kilometers from the center of town, but that we're thirty-nine-point-eight kilometers down the road from the marker.