now on. That might be important, too. And terribly painful.
‘People don’t rob people and then douse them with whisky!’
‘They do if they want to create sufficient time to get out of the area.
It’s not a new tactic. By the time a mark gets finished
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explaining to the police that he’s a sober citizen, the hustlers are twenty
miles away.’
‘I don’t believe you, I don’t even think you expect me to.’ She sat up and
looked at him.
‘I do expect you to because it’s the truth. A man doesn’t throw away his
wallet, his money, his watch . . . in order to impress a girl with the
validity of a lie. Come on, Jean! I’m very thirsty and my head still
hurts.’
She shrugged, obviously realizing it was futile to argue.
‘You’re just about out of Scotch, I’m afraid. I’ll go buy a bottle for you.
There’s a liquor store on the corner of Talcahuano. It’s not far. . . .’
‘No,’ he said interrupting, recalling the man with huge hands who’d entered
his building. ‘I will. Lend me some money.’
‘We’ll both go,’ she responded.
‘Please?. . . Would you mind waiting? I may get a phone call; I’d like the
person to know I’ll be right back.’
‘Who?’
‘A man named Kendall.’
Out on the street, he asked the first man he saw where the nearest pay
phone could be found. It was several blocks away, on Rodriguez Peila, in a
newspaper store.
David ran as fast as he could.
The hotel page found Kendall in the dining room. When he got on the phone
he spoke while chewing. Spaulding pictured the man, the doodled
obscenities, the animal-like breathing. He controlled himself. Walter
Kendall was sick.
‘Lyons is coming in in three days,’ Kendall told him. ‘With his nurses. I
got him a place in this San Telmo district. A quiet apartment, quiet
street. I wired Swanson the address. He’ll give it to the keepers and
they’ll get him set up. They’ll be in touch with you.’
‘I thought I was to get him settled.’
‘I figured you’d complicate things,’ interrupted Kendall. ‘No piss lost.
They’ll call you. Or I will. I’ll be here for a while.’
‘I’m glad…. Because so’s the Gestapo.’
1M01
‘I said so’s the Gestapo. You figured a little inaccurately, Kendall.
Someone is trying to stop you. It doesn’t surprise me.’
‘You’re out of your fucking mind V
,I’m not.,
‘What happened?’
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. So David told him, and for the first time in his brief association Mth the
accountant, he detected fear.
‘There was a break in Rhinemann’s network. It doesn’t mean the designs
won’t get here. It does mean we have obstacles – if Rhinemann’s as good as
you say. As I read it, Berlin found out the designs were stolen. They know
they’re filtering down or across or however Rhinemann’s routing them out of
Europe. The High Command got wind of the transactions. The Reichsf0rers
aren’t going to broadcast, they’re going to try and intercept. With as
little noise as possible. But you can bet your ass there’s been a slew of
executions in PeenemOnde.’
‘It’s crazy . . . .’ Kendall could hardly be heard. And then he mumbled
something; David could not understand the words.
‘What did you say?’
‘The address in this Telmo. For Lyons. It’s three rooms. Back entrance.’
Kendall still kept his voice low, almost indistinct.
The man was close to panic, thought Spaulding. ‘I can barely hear you,
Kendall…. Now, calm down I I think it’s time I introduced myself to
Rhinemann, don’t you?’
‘The Telmo address. It’s Fifteen Terraza Verde … it’s quiet.’
‘Who’s the contact for Rhinemann?’
‘The whaff
‘Rhinemann’s contact.’
‘I don’t know. . . . ‘
‘For Christ’s sake, Kendall, you held a five-hour conference with him!’
‘I’ll be in touch. . .
David heard the click. He was stunned. Kendall had hung up on him. He
considered calling again but in Kendall’s state of anxiety it might only
make matters worse.
Goddamned amateurs I What the hell did they expect? Albert Speer himself to
get in touch with Washington and lend the army air corps a few designs
because he heard they had problems?
Jesusl
David walked angrily out of the telephone booth and the store and into the
street.
Where the goddamned hell was he? Oh, yes, the Scotch. The store was back at
Talcahuano, Jean said. Four blocks west. He looked at his watch and, of
course, there was no watch.
Goddamn.
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‘I’m sorry I took so long. I got confused. I walked the wrong way for a
couple of blocks.’ David put the package of Scotch and soda water on the
sink. Jean was sitting on the sofa; disturbed about something, he
thought. ‘Did I get the call?’
‘Not the one you expected,’ said Jean softly. ‘Someone else. He said he’d
phone you tomorrow.’
‘Oh? Did he leave a name?’
‘Yes, he did.’When she answered, David heard the questioning fear in her
voice. ‘It was Heinrich Stoltz.’
‘Stoltz? Don’t know him.’
‘You should. He’s an undersecretary at the German embassy. … David,
what are you doing?’
264
27
‘Sorry, seifor. Mister Kendall checked out last night. At ten thirty,
according to the card.’
‘Did he leave any other address or telephone number here in Buenos Aires?’
‘No, seftor. I believe he was going back to the United States. There was a
Pan American flight at midnight.’
‘7rbank you.’ David put down the telephone and reached for his cigarettes.
it was incredible! Kendall had shot out at the first moment of difficulty.
Why?
The telephone rang, startling David.
‘Hello?’
‘Herr Spaulding?’
‘Yes.’
‘Heinrich Stoltz. I called last night but you were out.’
‘Yes, I know. . . . I understand you’re with the German embassy. I hope I
don’t have to tell you that I find your contacting me unorthodox. And not
a little distasteful.’
10h, come, Herr Spaulding. The man from Lisbon? He finds unorthodoxy?’
Stoltz laughed quietly but not insultingly.
‘I am an embassy attach6 specializing in economics. Nothing more. If you
know anything about me, surely you know that. Now, I’m late….
265
‘Please,’ interrupted Stoltz. ‘I call from a public telephone. Surely that
tells you something.’
It did, of course.
‘I don’t talk on telephones.’
‘Yours is clean, I checked thoroughly.’
‘If you want to meet, give me a time and an address. . . . Somewhere in the
downtown area. With people around; no outside locations.’
‘There’s a restaurant, Casa Langosta del Mar, several blocks north of the
Parque Lezama. It’s out of the way, not outside. There are back rooms.
Curtains, no doors; no means of isolation. Only seclusion!
‘rime?’
‘Half past twelve!
‘Do you smoke?’ asked David sharply.
‘Yes.’
‘Carry a pack of American cigarettes from the moment you get out of the
car. In your left hand; the foil off one end of the top, two cigarettes
removed!
‘It’s quite unnecessary. I know who you are. Ill recognize you!
‘That’s not my concern. I don’t know you.’ David hung up the phone
abruptly. As in all such rendezvous, he would arrive at the location early,
through a delivery entrance if possible, and position himself as best he
could to observe his contact’s arrival. The cigarettes were nothing more
than a psychological device: the contact was thrown off balance with the
realization that he was an identified mark. A target. A marked contact was
reluctant to bring trouble. And if trouble was his intent, he wouldn’t show
up.
Jean Cameron walked down the corridor toward the metal staircase that led
to the cellars.
To the ‘Caves.’
The ‘Caves’ – a name given without affection by Foreign Service officers
the world over – were those underground rooms housing file cabinets
containing dossiers on just about everybody who had the slightest contact
with an embassy, known and unknown, friend and adversary. They included
exhaustive checks and counterchecks on all embassy personnel; service back-
ground, State Department evaluations, progress reports. Nothing
266
was left out if it was obtainable.
Two signatures were required to gain entrance into the ‘Caves.’ The
ambassadoes and that of the senior attach6 seeking information.
It was a regulation that was occasionally bypassed in the interests of
haste and emergency. The marine officer of the guard generally could be
convinced that an established attach6 had to have immediate background
material; the marine would fist both the names of the embassy man and his
subject on the check sheet, then stand in attendance while the file.was
removed. If there were repercussions, they were the attach6’s
responsibility.
There never were. Violations of this sort guaranteed a post in Uganda. The
check sheet was sealed daily and sent only to the ambassador.
Jean rarely took advantage of her relationship to Henderson Granville in
embassy matters. In truth, the occasion rarely arose, and when it did, the
matter was always insignificant.
It was not insignificant now. And she intended to use fully her status as