"Why?" Silvio asked.
"The CIA used him to move things around, bought weapons from him. They'd like that buried. No, Alek Pevsner didn't set us up. It would not be in his best interests and he never puts anything above his best interests."
Castillo started to say something, then stopped and took out his cigar case. He offered it to Silvio, who nodded his thanks, and they both carefully lit up. It was obvious that both were thinking.
"We took the contents of Lorimer's safe with us," Castillo said, finally. "Among them were sort of cashier's checks for nearly sixteen million dollars that he had in three Uruguayan banks."
"Can I say something?" Silvio asked.
"Please."
"Ambassador McGrory knows about that money. It's the basis of his theory that Lorimer was a drug dealer. You're saying you have it?"
Castillo nodded.
He puffed his cigar, exhaled, then said, "I will deny telling you this: Ambassador Montvale suggested, and the President went along with him, that we should take the money and use it to fund the Office of Organizational Analysis. Most of it is in a bank in the Cayman Islands. I call it the 'Lorimer Charitable and Benevolent Fund.'"
Silvio smiled and shook his head.
"That's why I sent Yung back down here, to cover our tracks," Castillo said.
"You've heard he's been shot?"
Castillo nodded.
"First, I flew to Paris, for a look at Lorimer's apartment," Castillo said. "It had been previously searched by the Deuxieme Bureau, the UN, and our CIA guy. Nothing there. Then I went to Fulda, and cleared things up with Otto Gorner. I told him what I was doing-and on whose authority-and that I wanted to be released from my promise not to share his files with the FBI and the CIA. He agreed and gave me all his files. Then I went to Budapest to get Eric Kocian to release me from my promise.
"He was perfectly willing to do so, primarily because parties unknown had tried to stick a needle in him on the Franz Josef Bridge and, when that failed, shot him twice…"
"My God!"
"…at one o'clock the next morning…" Castillo's voice trailed off, then he exclaimed, "My God, that was yesterday morning!"
"You were in Budapest yesterday morning?" Silvio asked in surprise, if not disbelief.
Castillo nodded.
"And at one o'clock yesterday morning, these people-this time, two bad guys-made another attempt to murder Kocian and to burn his apartment and whatever files he might have there."
"You said 'attempt'?" Silvio questioned.
"Eric was still in the hospital," Castillo explained. "I was sleeping in the guest bedroom in his apartment. Eric's dog woke me up. Instead of Kocian, they got me and a suppressed.22 that I had the foresight to get from the CIA armory at our embassy. Neither body had any identification on it, but the garrote they used on one of Kocian's security men was a twin of the garrote used on Sergeant Kranz at the estancia. So it seems pretty evident we're dealing with the same people."
"Who are?"
"I'm beginning to think they're either ex-East German Stasi or ex-Hungarian Allamvedelmi Hatosag-AVH-but I'm not sure of that and have no idea who they're working for."
"So Mr. Kocian and his files are all right? In your possession?"
"One copy of the files, sent in the diplomatic pouch from Budapest, should be in Washington by now. I've got another copy here. Eric Kocian is in the apartment on Avenida Arribenos."
"You brought him with you? How did you get here so quickly?"
"Him and his dog and his bodyguard, an ex-Hungarian cop who did a tour in the French Foreign Legion." Castillo chuckled. "I guess I didn't get around to telling you that the Lorimer Trust was burning a hole in my pocket, so I bought a Gulfstream III with seven and a half million of it. Colonel Torine and my cousin Fernando flew it from Washington, spent about six hours in Budapest and then we flew here. Which may explain why I do feel a tinge of fatigue."
"I'm surprised you're able to walk around," Silvio said.
"But not surprised I'm not making much sense?"
"You're doing fine, Charley. So what are your plans here?"
"Alex Darby is right now renting a house for us at Mayerling in Pilar. The Lorimer Trust will reimburse him. Kocian thinks there's a connection with Mayerling and German-or, more likely, Austrian and Hungarian-oil-for-food money. I don't know, but Eric is right more often than he's wrong.
"The idea was that I would put Kocian in the house and have Yung and him compare notes. They sent me a replacement for Sergeant Kranz-a friend of mine, Sergeant Major Jack Davidson-who has a lot of experience protecting people. We served in Afghanistan together.
"He brought with him Corporal Lester Bradley and I don't know what the hell to do with him. Just put him out there with Davidson, I suppose. Darby will move Sergeant Kensington and his radio out to Mayerling as soon as he can. Somebody will have to sit on that around the clock. Lester can help with that."
"And Colonel Munz?" Silvio said. "He'll work with Yung and Mr. Kocian?"
"Now that he's been shot, I don't think Yung will want to be out there. And that brings up Colonel Munz." He paused. "You beginning to understand why this inept juggler is worried about all the balls he has in the air?"
"So far, so good, Charley. You haven't dropped any yet."
"Stick around. It won't be long," Castillo said. "They call that the 'Law of Inevitability.'"
"Tell me about Colonel Munz," Silvio said, smiling.
"Well, he thinks people are following him around. He doesn't know who they are, but he's worried about his family-a wife and two daughters-and I don't think he's paranoid.
"He suspects-but doesn't know-that the people following him, or at least some of them, may work for Pevsner. And he knows enough about Pevsner to know that Pevsner's policy for people who know too much about him is to give them a beauty mark in the forehead."
It took a moment for Silvio to understand. Then he grimaced.
"Since Munz took a bullet for us," Castillo said, "I told him I would take him and his family to the States until we find out who these people are and stop them. They'll need visas."
"Not a problem," Silvio said. "The bureaucrats in Foggy Bottom keep whittling away at an ambassador's authority, but I'm still the man with the last word on who gets a visa."
"That'll have to be done today and I haven't quite figured out how to do it."
"It can be done."
"Munz doesn't want to go. He wants to stay here and help find out who these bastards are."
"How badly is he hurt?"
"His shoulder. I don't know if he can use a weapon or not."
"Why does it have to be today?" Silvio asked.
"Because (a) I have still more balls to juggle in the States and (b) I need to talk to Ambassador Montvale as soon as I can."
"He said the same about you. There's a secure line here, if you want to use it."
"Thank you. A little later," Castillo said, and then asked: "Do you think Santini's out there by now?"
"I'd be surprised if he's not."
"Thank you very much, sir."
"For what?"
"This is probably one more manifestation of exhaustion, but I really feel a hell of a lot better than when we walked in here. Almost euphoric."
"I'm glad," Silvio said. "But I strongly recommend that, as soon as we're finished with Lowery and Santini, you get some rest. A lot of rest."
"I just don't have the time right now. Maybe I can get some sleep in the Gulfstream on the way to the States."
Silvio looked at him thoughtfully for a moment, then said, "You said you wanted my advice. Still want it?"
"Yes, sir."
"You've been talking about juggling balls and being an inept juggler."
Castillo nodded.
"I think you're a very good juggler, Charley. If you start dropping balls, it will be because you're exhausted, not because you're inept. Stop pushing yourself. You have limits, even if you don't like to admit it."