"What is this?"
"It's in the Bank of Boston Building," Tony said. "There will be a Marine guard."
"A what?"
A Marine guard. Sort of a soldier. You tell him you want to see the Military Attach?. He'll probably ask you why, and you tell him that it's about an American Army officer."
"An American Army officer?" Maria-Teresa asked, now wholly confused.
"Yeah. Look here." He pointed at the envelope. "That's me, up in the corner."
"That's you? I don't understand."
"Maria-Teresa, for Christ's sake, just listen to me. You give this to the guard and tell him you want to see the Military Attach?"
"Why don't you just give him this letter yourself?"
"I may not be here."
"You're leaving Argentina?"
"Yeah. Maybe."
"And not coming back?"
"If I leave, I won't be coming back."
"Where are you going? Back to the United States?"
"Something like that."
"What's in the envelope?"
"A couple of letters."
"What kind of letters?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. If I don't come back, there will be some money for you. But to get the money, you have to take this letter to the Military Attach?."
"I don't want any more of your money. What are you talking about, giving me more money? This is crazy."
"Goddamn it, if I go away, I won't need any money, and I want you to have it."
"I want to know what's in this envelope," Maria-Teresa said firmly.
"Help yourself. They're in English; you won't know what you're reading."
She opened the envelope and took from it two sheets of paper.
Tony was right. She couldn't understand much of either of them.
Buenos Aires, Argentina
28 December 1942
To Whom It May Concern:
Through: The Military Attach?
U.S. Embassy
Buenos Aires, Argentina
I desire to change the beneficiary of my National Service Insurance from Mrs. Pasquale Pelosi, 818 Elm Street, Cicero, Illinois USA, to Miss Maria-Teresa Alberghoni, c/o Ristorante Napoli, Boca, Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Anthony J. Pelosi 0-538677
2nd Lieut CE, AUS
(On TDY from Army Detachment
Office of Strategic Services
National Institutes of Health Building
Washington, D.C.)
* * * * *
December 28, 1942
Somewhere in Argentina
PLEASE FORWARD TO:
Mr. Pasquale Pelosi
818 Elm Street
Cicero, Illinois
Dear Pop:
If you get this, I will have done what you always said I was going to do, test the detonator after I hooked up the charge.
Maybe after the war, somebody will tell you what I was doing down here, but right now it's classified, and all I can tell you is that it was important, and I volunteered to do it.
What comes next is probably going to upset you a little.
I fell in love down here. Her name is Maria-Teresa Alberghoni, and she is a nice Italian girl whose family comes from around Naples someplace. Pop, she and her family don't have a dime. They work hard, but they're really poor.
So what I've done is make her the beneficiary of the ten thousand dollar GI insurance policy I get from the Army, and I want you to somehow arrange to get her the money I inherited from Grandpa, less thirteen thousand dollars I owe First Lieutenant C.H. Frade, USMCR, c/o OSS. If he doesn't come through this either, the OSS can get you the name of his family in New Orleans.
Since I can't use it, I think Grandpa would like what I want to do with his money. If he told me once he told me a hundred times how he came from Italy with sixteen dollars and the clothes on his back. You don't need the money and it will help Maria-Teresa get a start on life here in Argentina.
Kiss Mamma, those ugly brothers of mine, and maybe light a candle for me every once in a while.
Love, your son
Anthony
"This is a letter to your father?" "Right."
"What does it say?"
"It says that if something happens to me, I have some money I want him to send to you."
"What's going to happen to you?" "Maybe nothing."
"And maybe what?"
"Maybe I'll get killed."
"How?"
"I can't tell you about that."
"Why not?"
"I just can't tell you, that's all."
"It has to do with the war?"
Tony nodded.
"I thought so," she said. "I knew you were doing something. You told me you were an American, and you told my father you were from the North of Italy. You lied."
"I had to."
"Are you lying to me now?"
"About what? No, I'm not lying to you."
"Se?or Mallin said you would come to me."
"Mallin? You saw that sonofabitch? What did he want?"
"He came and said that he would forgive me if I promised not to see you again."
"And?"
"I told him that I did not want to be with him anymore, and he said that you would come to see me, and want to be with me."
"Not like that, I don't want to be with you."
"When I saw you go in the restaurant, I thought that was what you wanted."
"Look, Maria-Teresa, just take the goddamned envelope to the U.S. Embassy if I don't come back, all right?"
"If you wish," she said, and stuffed it in her purse.
He drained his wineglass, looked around for the waiter to order another, changed his mind, stood up, and fished in his pocket for money.
"You're going?"
"Right."
"Where?"
"I don't know. To my apartment, I guess."
Maria-Teresa stood up, and he followed her out of the cafe.
She stopped and waited for him, and put her hand on his arm.
You want me to walk you back to the ristorante?
"No."
"Then what?"
"Is there anyone at your apartment?"
"No."
"Then we will go there," Maria-Teresa said.
"I told you, I didn't come here for anything like that."
"I want to go with you to your apartment."
"Why?"
"It will be an interesting experience," Maria-Teresa said matter-of-factly. "I have never made love before because I wanted to."
Chapter Twenty-One
[ONE]
Bureau of Internal Security
Ministry of Defense
Edificio Libertador
Avenida Paseo Colon
Buenos Aires
1905 29 December 1942
"Would you wait outside, please, gentlemen, to give Coronel Martin and myself a word alone?" el Almirante Francisco de Montoya, Chief of the Bureau of Internal Security, Ministry of National Defense, said to el Comandante Carlos Habanzo, of the Bureau of National Security, and el Capitan Gonzalo Delgano, Air Service, Argentine Army, Retired, who stood before his desk, their hands folded on the smalls of their backs. El Teniente Coronel Bernardo Martin sat slumped on a leather couch at one side of the room.