family, as well as a respected member of the staff. Granville had left for
lunch; he would not return for several hours. She had made up her mind to
tell the marine guard that her ‘father-in-law, the ambassador’ had asked
her to make a discreet inquiry regarding a new transfer.
Spaulding, David.
If Henderson wished to call her down for it, she would ten him the truth.
She found herself very, very involved with the enigmatic Mr. Spaulding, and
if Henderson did not realize it, he was a damn fool.
The marine officer of the guard was a young lieutenant from the FMF base
south of La Boca. The personnel from FMF were sped in civilian clothes
through the city to their posts at the embassy; the treaty that permitted
the small, limited base did not condone uniformed men outside either
territory. These restrictions tended to make the young officers sensitive
to the functionary, faceless roles they were forced to play. So it was
understandable that when the ambassador’s daughter-in-law called him by
name and spoke confidentially of a discreet matter, the marine complied
without question.
Jean stared at David’s Me. It was frightening. It was not like any file she
had ever seen. There was no dossier, no State
267
Department records, no reports, no evaluations, no listing of post
assignments.
There was only a single page.
It gave his description by sex, height, weight, coloring and visible
markings.
Beneath this cursory data, separated by a three-line space, was the
following:
War Dept. Transfer. Clandestine Operations. Finance.
TortWas.
And nothing more.
‘Finding what you need, Mrs. CameronT asked the marine lieutenant by the
steel-grilled gate.
‘Yes…. Thank you.’ Jean slipped David’s thin folder back into place in
the cabinet, smiled at the marine, and left.
She reached the staircase and walked slowly up the steps. She accepted the
fact that David was involved with an undercover assignment – accepted it
while hating it; loathing the secrecy, the obvious danger. But in a
conscious way she had prepared herself, expecting the worst and finding it.
She was not at all sure she could handle the knowledge, but she was willing
to try. If she could not handle it she’d take what moments of selfish
pleasure she could and kiss David Spaulding good-bye. She had made up her
mind tb that … unconsciously, really. She could not allow herself more
pain.
And there was something else. It was only a dim shadow in a half-lit room
but it kept failing across her eyes. It was the word.
.Tortugas.’
She had seen it before. Recently. Only days ago.
It had caught her attention because she’d thought of the Dry Tortugas …
and the few times she and Andrew had sailed there from the Keys.
Where was it? Yes…. Yes, she remembered.
It had been in a very mechanical paragraph within the context of an area
surveillance report on Henderson Granville’s desk. She had read it rather
absently one morning … only a few days ago. But she hadn’t read it
closely. Area surveillance reports were comprised of short, choppy
informational sentences devoid of rhythm and color. Written by
unimaginative men concerned only with what they could describe briefly,
with data.
268
It had- been down at La Boca.
Something about the captain of a trawler … and cargo. Cargo that had a
lading destination of Tortugas. A violation of coastal limits; said
destination rescinded, called an obvious error by the trawlees captain.
Yet the lading papers had said Tortugas.
And David Spaulding’s classified operation – clan&stine operation – was
coded ‘Tortugas.’
And Heinrich Stoltz of the German embassy had called David.
And Joan Cameron was suddenly afraid.
Spaulding was convinced that Stoltz was alone. He signaled the German to
follow him to the back of the restaurant, to the curtained cubicle David
had arranged for with the waiter a half hour,ago.
Stoltz entered carrying the pack of cigarettes in his left hand. Spaulding
circled the round table and sat facing the curtain.
‘Have a seat,’ said David indicating the chair opposite him. Stoltz smiled,
realizing that his back would be to the entrance.
‘The man from Lisbon is a cautious man.’Tbe German pulled out the chair and
sat down, placing the cigarettes on the table.
‘I can assure you I’m not armed!
‘Good. I am.’
‘You are too cautious. The colonels look askance at belligerents carrying
weapons in their neutral city. Your embassy should have told you.’
‘I understand they also arrest Americans quicker than they do you fellows!
Stoltz shrugged. ‘Why not? After all, we trained them. You only buy their
beef.’
‘There’ll beno lunch, incidentally. Ipaid thewaiter forthe table!
‘I’m sorry. The langosta . . . the lobster here is excellent. Perhaps a
drink?’
‘No drinks. Just talk.’
Stoltz spoke, his voice flat. ‘I bring a welcome to Buenos Aires. From
Erich Rhinemann.’
David stared at the man. ‘You?’
‘Yes. I’m your contact!
‘That’s interesting!
`ThaCs the way of Erich Rhinemann. He pays for allegiances.’
I’ll VMnt proof
20.
‘By all means. From Rhinemann himself. … Acceptable?’
Spaulding nodded. ‘When? WhereT
‘That’s what I’m here to discuss. Rhinemann is as cautious as the man from
Lisbon.’
‘I was attached to the diplomatic corps in Portugal. Don’t try to make
anything more of it than that.’
‘Unfortunately, I have to speak the truth-Herr Rhinemann is most upset that
the men in Washington saw fit to send you as the liaison. Your presence in
Buenos Aires could attract attention.’
David reached for the cigarettes Stoltz had placed on the table. He lit
one…. The German was right, of course; Rhinemann was right. The one
liability in his having been chosen was the enemy’s probable knowledge of
his Lisbon operations. Ed Pace, he was sure, had considered that aspect,
discarding it in favor of the overriding assets. Regardless, it was not a
subject to discuss with Heinrich Stoltz. The German attach6 was stiff an
unproven factor.
‘I have no idea what you’re referring to. I’m in Buenos Aires to transmit
preliminary recommendations from New York and London banking circles
relative to postwar reconstruction negotiations. You see, we do believe
we’ll win. Rhinemann can’t be overlooked in such projected discussions.’
‘The man from Lisbon is most professional.’
‘I wish you’d stop repeating that nonsense. .
‘And convincing,’ interrupted Stoltz. ‘The cover is one of your better
ones. It has more stature than a cowardly American socialite…. Even Herr
Kendall agrees with that.’
David paused before replying. Stoltz was circling in, about to deliver his
proof. ‘Describe Kendall,’ he said quietly.
‘In short wordsT
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Stoltz laughed under his breath. ‘I’d prefer as few as possible. He’s a
most unattractive biped. He must be an extraordinary man with figures;
there’s no other earthly reason to stay in the same room with him.’
‘Have you stayed in the same room with him?’
‘For hours, unfortunately. With Rhinemann…. Now. May we talk?’
‘Go ahead:
‘Your man Lyons will be here the day after tomorrow. We can accomplish
everything very quickly. The designs will be delivered
270
in one package, not two as Kendall believes!
‘Does he believe that?’
‘It’s what he was told.’
1VVhy?1
‘Because until late last evening Herr Rhinemann thought it was so. I myself
did not know of the change until this morning!
‘Then why did you call me last night?’
‘Instructions from Walter Kendall!
‘Please explain that.’
‘Is it necessary? One has nothing to do with the other. Herr Kendall
telephoned me. Apparently he had just spoken with you. He said he was
called back to Washington suddenly; that I was to contact you immediately
so there’s no break in communications. He was most adamant.’
‘Did Kendall say why he was returning to the States?’
‘No. And I saw no reason to inquire. His work here is finished. He’s of no
concern to us. You are the man with the codes, not him.’
David crushed out his cigarette, staring at the tablecloth. ‘What’s your
rank at the embassy?’
Stoltz smiled. ‘Third . . . fourth in command would be a modest appraisal.
My loyalty, however, is to the Rhinemann interests. Surely that’s apparent!
‘I’ll know when I talk to Rhinemann, won’t I?’ David looked up at the
German. ‘Why are the Gestapo here in Buenos Aires?’
‘They’re not…. Well, there’s one man; no more than a clerk really. As all
Gestapo he thinks of himself as the personal spokesman for the Reich and
overburdens the couriers – who, incidentally, cooperate with us. He is, as
you Amerikaner say, a jackass. There is no one else.’
‘Am you sure?’
‘Of course. I would be the first to know; before the ambassador, I assure
you. This game is quite unnecessary, Herr Spaulding!
‘You’d better set up that meeting with Rhinemann … that’s necessary!
‘Yes. Certainly…. Which brings us back to Herr Rhinemann’s concerns. Why
is the man from Lisbon in Buenos Aires?’
‘I’m afraid he has to be. You said it. I’m cautious. I’m experienced. And