Once inside he settled back and gave instructions to the unctuous driver.
He told the man he had nearly an hour to waste before he was to be met –
the meeting place not mentioned -and asked if the driver would give him a
short tour of the city. The tour would serve two purposes: he could
position himself so that he could constantly check for surveillance, and he
would learn the main points of the city.
I The driver, impressed by David’s educated, grammatical Spanish, assumed
the role of tour director and drove out of the airport’s winding lanes to
the exit of the huge Parque 3 de Febrero in which the field was centered.
Thirty minutes later David had filled a dozen pages with notes. The city
was like a European insert on the southern continent. It was a strange
mixture of Paris, Rome and middle Spain. The streets were not city streets,
they were boulevards: wide, lined with color. Fountains and statuary
everywhere. The Avenida 9 de Julio might have been a larger Via Veneto or
Saint-Germaindes-Pr6s. The sidewalk cafes, profuse with brightly decorated
awnings and greenery from hundreds of planter boxes, were doing a brisk
summer afternoon business. The fact that it was summer in Argentina was
emphasized for David by the perspiration on his neck and shirt front. The
driver admitted that the day was inordinately warm, in the high seventies.
David asked to be driven – among other places – to a district called San
Telmo. The cab owner nodded appreciatively, as if he had accurately
assessed the rich American. Soon Spaulding understood. San Telmo was as
Kendall had noted: elegant, secluded, beautifully kept old houses and
apartment buildings with wrought-iron balustrades and brilliantly
blossoming flowers lining the spotless streets.
Lyons would be comfortable.
214
From San Tehn6 the driver doubled back into the inner city and began the
tour from the banks of the Rio de la Plata.
The Plaza de Mayo, the Cabildo, the Casa Rosada, Calle Rivadavia. The names
filled David’s notebook; these were the streets, the squares, the locations
he would absorb quickly.
La Boca. The waterfront, south of the city; this, the driver said, was no
place for the tourist.
The Calle Florida. Here was the finest shopping area in all South America.
The driver could take his American to several store owners personally known
to him and extraordinary purchases could be made.
Sorry, there was no time. But David wrote in his notebook that traffic was
banned at the borders of the Calle Florida.
The driver then sped out the Avenida Santa R toward the Palermo. No sight
in Buenos Aires was as beautiful as the Palern o.
What interested David more than the beauty was the huge park – or series of
individual parks; the quiet, immense, artificial lake. The acres of
botanical gardens; the enormous zoo complex with rows of cages and
buildings.
Beauty, yes. Secure areas of contact, more so. The Palermo might come in
handy.
An hour had passed; there were no automobiles following the taxi. ‘Donald
Scanlan’ had not been under surveillance; David Spaulding could emerge.
Quietly.
He instructed the driver to leave him off at the cabstand outside the
entrance to the Palermo zoo. He was to meet his party there. The driver
looked crestfallen. Was there no hotel? No place of residence?
Spaulding did not reply, he simply asked the fare and quickly held out the
amount. No more questions were in order.
David spent an additional fifteen minutes inside the zoo, actually enjoying
it. He bought an ice from a vendor, wandered past the cages of marmosets
and orangutans – finding extraordinary resemblances to friends and enemies
– and when he felt comfortable (as only a field man can feel comfortable),
walked out to the cabstand.
He waited another five minutes while mothers and governesses and children
entered the available taxis. It was his turn.
‘The American embassy, por favor.,
215
Ambassador Henderson Granville allowed the new attach6 a half hour. There
would be other days when they could sit and chat at length, but Sundays
were hectic. The rest of Buenos Aires might be at church or at play; the
diplomatic corps was at work. He had two garden parties still to attend –
telephone calls would be made detailing the departures and arrivals of the
German and the Japanese guests; his arrivals and departures would be timed
accordingly. And after the second garden-bore there was dinner at the
Brazilian embassy, Neither German nor Japanese interference was
anticipated. Brazil was close to an open break.
‘The Italians, you realize,’ said Granville, smiling at David, ‘don’t count
any longer. Never did really; not down here. They spend most of their time
cornering us in restaurants, or calling from public phones, explaining how
Mussolini ruined the country!
‘Not too different from Lisbon.’
‘I’m afraid they’re the only pleasant similarity…. I won!t bore you with
a tedious account of the upheavals we’ve experienced here, but a quick
sketch – and emphasis – will help you adjust. You’ve read up, I assume!
‘I haven’t had much time. I left Lisbon only a week ago. I know that the
Castillo government was overthrown!
‘Last June. Inevitable. . . . Ram6n Castillo was as inept a president as
Argentina ever had, and it’s had its share of buffoons. The economy was
disastrous: agriculture and industry came virtually to a halt; his cabinet
never made provisions to fill the beef market void created by the British
struggle, even though the lot of them figured John Bull was finished. He
deserved to be thrown out…. Unfortunately, what came in the front door
-marched in phalanx up the Rivadavia, to be more precise -hardly makes our
lives easier.’
‘That’s the military council, isn’t it? The juntaT
Granville gestured with his delicate hands, the chiseled features of his
aging, aristocratic face formed a sardonic grimace. ‘The Grupo de Oficiales
Unidos! As unpleasant a band of goosestepping opportunists as you will meet
… I daresay, anywhere. You know, of course, the entire army was trained
by the Wehrmacht officer corps. Add to that jovial premise the hot Latin
temperament, economic chaos, a neutrality that’s enforced but not believed
in, and what have you got? A suspension of the political apparatus; no
checks and balances. A police state rife with corruption!
216
‘What maintains the neutralityT
‘The infighting, primarily. The GOU – that’s what we call it – has more
factions than the ’29 Reichstag. They’re all jockeying for the power spots.
And naturally, the cold fear of an American fleet and air force right up
the street, so to speak…. The GOU has been reappraising its judgments
during the past five months. The colonels are beginning to wonder about
their mentors’ thousand-year crusade; extremely impressed by our supply and
production lines.’
‘They should be. We’ve. .
‘And there’s another aspect,’ interrupted Granville thoughtfully. ‘There’s
a small, very wealthy community of Jews here. Your Erich Rhinemann, for
example. The GOU isn’t prepared to openly advocate the solutions of Julius
Streicher. . . . It’s already used Jewish money to keep alive lines of
credit pretty well chewed up by Castillo. The colonels are afraid of
financial manipulations, most military people are. But there’s a great deal
of money to be made in this war. The colonels intend to make it. . ~ . Do
I sketch a recognizable pictureT
‘A complicated one.’
‘I daresay…. We have a maxim here that serves quite wen. Today’s friend
will probably be on the Axis payroll tomorrow; conversely, yesterday’s
Berlin courier might be for sale next week. Keep your options open and your
opinions private. And publicly … allow for a touch more flexibility than
might be approved of at another post. It’s tolerated.’
‘And expectedT asked David.
‘Both.’
David lit a cigarette. He wanted to shift the conversation; old Granville
was one of those ambassadors, professorial by nature, who would go on
analyzing the subtleties of his station all day if someone listened. Such
men were usually the best diplomats but not always the most desirable
liaisons in times of active practicality. Henderson Granville was a good
man, though his concerns shone in his eyes, and they were fair concerns.
‘I imagine Washington has outlined my purpose here.’
‘Yes. I wish I could say I approved. Not of you; you9ve got your
instructions. And I suppose international finance Will continue long after
Herr Hitler has shrieked his last scream…. Perhaps I’m no better than the
GOU. Money matters can be most distasteful.’
217
‘These in particular, I gather.’
‘Again, yes. Erich Rhinemann is a sworn companion of the wind. A powerful
companion, make no mistake, but totally without conscience; a hurricane’s
morality. Unquestionably the least honorable man I’ve ever met. I think
it’s criminal that his resources make him acceptable to London and New
York.’
‘Perhaps necessary is a more appropriate term.’
‘I’m sure that’s the rationalization, at any rate.’
‘It’s mine.’
‘Of course. Forgive an old man’s obsolete limits of necessity. But we have