He was a slightly built, thickly spectacled, somewhat hunch-shouldered man in his late twenties. He was wearing a seersucker suit and carrying a stiff-brimmed straw hat and a briefcase. He gave Clete a calling card.
"How do you do?" Clete asked.
He saw a question in Enrico's eyes and nodded reassuringly at him.
"I'm really sorry it took so long for me to visit you," Spiers said. "Please believe me, we have been trying since the story appeared in the Herald.
"I appreciate your concern," Clete said.
"Frankly, you're sort of a special case," Spiers said.
"How's that?"
"Senator Brewer sent a cable asking us to keep an eye on you," Spiers said. "And to notify him immediately if you encountered any problems down here."
After a moment Clete remembered Senator Brewer. He was the senior senator from the state of Louisiana. "He is a pompous windbag of incredible stupidity, Cletus Marcus Howell called him. But he's surprisingly useful to me if I have the time to explain in excruciating detail what I want done.
Just like the Old Man,Clete thought, smiling, having a word with the Senator, telling him to make sure the embassy looks out for me down here.
And then another thought:
I don't think this Spiers guy has any idea what's really going on.
"Well, you can cable the Senator that I'm fine," Clete said. They have given me the best of treatment, and I have been told that the investigation is over. The people who robbed the house have been identified as known criminals."
"I'm delighted to hear that," Spiers said. "And I'm sure the Ambassador will be."
"I was just about to leave, as a matter of fact."
"Could I drop you off?" Spiers asked. "I have a car and driver."
"I'd appreciate that," Clete said. "Are you sure it's no imposition?"
"Not at all. My pleasure."
Clete turned to Enrico.
"We're leaving," he said in Spanish. "What are you going do about the shotgun?"
"The shotgun?" Spiers asked, visibly surprised.
Shit, he speaks Spanish. I should have thought of that. Diplomats aren't very useful if they can't speak the language.
"Se?or Rodriguez is my father's gamekeeper," Clete continued in Spanish. "We were looking at a shotgunwe're going to my father's estancia this afternoonand we sort of hid it when we heard you were coming."
"The bird shooting here is supposed to be magnificent," Spiers said. "I myself don't hunt, but I have friends who do."
"You don't hunt?"
"I just can't stand the thought of killing anything," Spiers said.
[SIX]
4730 Avenida Libertador
Buenos Aires
1105 22 December 1942
Two policemen were strolling down the sidewalk in front of the Guest House, and Clete saw a car that was almost certainly an unmarked police car parked farther down the street.
Clete thanked Spiers for the ride, and for his concern, then passed through the gate and up to the door.
A maid he didn't recognize, a middle-aged woman, opened the door and looked at him dubiously.
Se?ora Pellano will never open the door to me again. Shit!
"This is Se?or Frade," Enrico said behind him.
The woman stepped out of the way.
Now that he was here, Clete was sorry he had come.
"I don't think I want to stay here," he said to Enrico. "I think I'll put some clothes in a bag and check into a hotel."
"It is better that you stay here," Enrico said. "I can protect you better, and this is your home, mi Teniente."
"OK," Clete said, deciding he was being a little overemotional.
"Mi Teniente, when do you plan to go to Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo? I must see that we have petrol, the air in the tires ..."
Christ, Se?ora Pellano's funeral!
I have to go. If I don't, he won't go with me. And he has the right to be at his sister's funeral.
"Let me put some things in a bag, Enrico. We might as well go now. There's no point in hanging around here."
S?, mi Teniente."
[SEVEN]
Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo
Near Pila, Buenos Aires Province
1615 22 December 1942
El Coronel Jorge Guillermo Frade was sitting on the verandah of the ranch house with Se?ora Carzino-Cormano and her daughters, when Clete drove up in the Horche.
When he saw Clete at the wheel, he quickly stood up and went inside the house.
Se?ora Carzino-Cormano, shaking her head sadly, moved off the porch and up to Clete and kissed his cheek.
"Are you all right?" she asked. "You weren't seriously injured?
"I'm fine."
"Your father wasn't expecting you. You and he had words?"
"Yes," Clete said simply. "We did. I'm here for Se?ora Pellano's funeral."
"And you stay angry, don't you, like him? Is that why you drove his car here . .. you know how he is about that damned automobile ... to make him angry?"
"My car is at the Duartes', and when I telephoned to ask about it, there was no answer. I had the Old Man's car, so I drove it."
" 'The Old Man'? Is that what you call him? To his face, I hope not."
They smiled at each other.
"Is there a hotel, or somewhere else I can stay?"
"Where? The hotel in Pila is ..." She raised her hands helplessly. "You're determined to go to the funeral?"
"Yes, of course."
"Good for you," she said, and turned to Enrico. "Enrico, put Se?or Cletus's things in my car. He will be staying at my estancia for the night."
"Mi Teniente," Enrico asked uncomfortably, "may I have an hour?"
"I don't understand, Enrico," Claudia said.
"I would like an hour with my family, Se?ora," Enrico said.
"Se?or Cletus is going to my estancia, Enrico. Not you."
"With respect, Se?ora, where el Teniente goes, I go."
"I will speak to el Coronel about that, Enrico. It will be all right with him."
"With respect, Se?ora, this has nothing to do with el Coronel."
She stuck her tongue in her cheek thoughtfully.
"Very well, Enrico," she said. "You go to your family. Take all the time you need. When you are finished, Se?or Cletus will be here on the verandah, and then you can drive him and the Se?oritas to my home."
"Gracias, Se?ora," Enrico said.
"And for the next hour," Claudia said, "the Old Man can sulk in the house while we have a coffee. Or perhaps something stronger, Cletus?"
"Nothing, thank you," he said.
[EIGHT]
Estancia Santa Catharina
Buenos Aires Province
2145 22 December 1942
Clete was startled when he became aware of the human form standing next to him. A female human form, to judge by the perfume.
He was lying on a chaise longue, examining the heavens with a pair of Zeiss 7 X 50 binoculars that he found in his bedroom. The roomactually an apartmentobviously served as the last repository of the personal property of the late Se?or Carzino-Cormano; there were riding boots and a photo album and other things he suspected Claudia was unable to part with, even though her husband was long dead and she was in everything but law now married to his father.