contingent. He was about to start up the short path to the front entrance
when Stoltz spoke through the automobile window.
‘Please wait. Our men are not yet in position. They’ll tell us.’
Static could be heard over the radio beneath the Packard’s dashboard. There
followed a recitation of numbers; the driver picked up his microphone and
repeated them.
Heinrich Stoltz nodded and got out of the car. David started toward the
door.
Inside, two of Rhinemann’s men remained in the hallway; two walked through
the apartment to the kitchen and a rear door that opened onto a small,
terraced back yard. Stoltz accompanied David into the living room where
Eugene Lyons was seated at a large dining table. The table was cleared
except for two note pads with a half dozen pencils.
The male nurses, Johnny and Hal, accepted Spaukling’s terse commands. They
stood at opposite ends of the room in front of a couch, in shirtsleeves,
their pistols strapped in shoulder holsters emphasized by the white cloth
of their shirts.
Stoltz had relieved one man of his metal case and told David to take the
other. Together, Stoltz and Spaulding placed the
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three containers on the large table, and Stoltz unlocked them. Lyons made no
effort to greet his visitors – his intruders – and only the most perfunctory
salutation came from Stoltz. It was apparent that Kendall had described the
scientist’s afflictions; the German diplomat conducted himself accordingly.
Stoltz spoke from across the table to the seated Lyons. ‘From your left,
the designs are in order of sequence. We have prepared bilingual keys
attached to each of the schematics, and wherever processes are described,
they have been translated verbatim, utilizing English counterpart formulae
or internationally recognized symbols, and often both…. Not far from
here, and easily contacted by our automobile radio, is an aeronautical
physicist from Peenernfinde. He is available for consultation at your
request…. Finally, you understand that no photographs may be taken.’
Eugene Lyons picked up a pencil and wrote on a pad. He tore off the page
and handed it to Spaulding. It read:
How long do I have? Are these complete?
David handed the note to Stoltz, who replied.
‘As long as you need, Herr Doktor. . . . There is one last container. It
will be brought to you later.’
‘Within twenty-four hours,’ interrupted Spaulding. ‘I insist on that.’
‘When we receive confirmation that the codes have arrived in Washington.’
‘That message is undoubtedly at the embassy now.’ David looked at his
watch. ‘I’m sure it is.’
‘If you say it, I believe it,’ said Stoltz. ‘It would be pointless to lie.
You won’t leave Argentina until we have received word from …
Switzerland.’
Spaulding couldn’t define why but there was something questioning about the
German’s statement; a questioning that didn’t belong with such a
pronouncement. David began to think that Stoltz was far more nervous than
he wanted anyone to realize. ‘I’ll confirm the codes when we leave…. By
the way, I also insist the designs remain here. Just as Doctor Lyons has
checked them.’
‘We anticipated your . . . request. You Americans are so mistrustful. Two
of our men will also’remain. Others win be outside.’
‘That’s a waste of manpower. What good is three-fourths of
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the merchandiseT
‘Tbree-fourths better than you have,’ answered the German.
The next two and a half hours were marked by the scratches of Lyons’s
pencil; the incessant static of the radios from the hallway and the
kitchen, over which came the incessant, irritating recitation of numbers;
the pacing of Heinrich Stoltz – his eyes constantly riveting on the pages
of notes taken by an exhausted Lyons, making sure the scientist did not try
to pocket or hide them; the yawns of the male nurse, Hal; the silent,
hostile stares of his partner, Johnny.
At ten thirty-five, Lyons rose from the chair. He placed the pile of notes
to his left and wrote on a pad, tearing off the page and handing it to
Spaulding.
So far – authentic. I have no questions.
David handed the note to an anxious Stoltz.
‘Good,’ said the German. ‘Now, colonel, please “plain to the doctor’s
companions that it will be necessary for us torelieve them of their
weapons. They will be returned, of course.’
David spoke to Johnny. ~It’s all right. Put them on the table.’
‘It’s all right by who-saysT said Johnny, leaning against the wall, making
no move to comply.
‘I do,’ answered Spaulding. ‘Nothing will happen.’
‘These fuckers are Nazis! You want to put us in blindfolds, tooT
‘They’re German. Not Nazis.’
‘Horseshit!’ Johnny pushed himself off the wall and stood erect. 11 don’t
like the way they talk.’
‘Listen to me.’ David approached him. ‘A great many people have risked
their lives to bring this thing off. For different reasons. You may not
like them any more than I do, but we can’t louse it up now. Please, do as
I ask you.’
Johnny stared angrily at Spaulding. ‘I hope to Christ you know what you’re
doing. . . .’ He and his partner put down their guns.
‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ said Stoltz, walking into the hallway. He spoke
quietly in German to the two guards. The man with the radio walked rapidly
through the sitting room into the kitchen; the other picked up the two
weapons, placing one in his belt, the second in his jacket pocket. He then
returned to the hallway without speaking.
Spaulding went to the table, joined by Stoltz. Lyons had
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replaced the designs in the manila envelopes; there were three. ‘I’d hate to
think of the money our mutual friend is getting for these,’ said David.
‘You wouldn’t pay it if they weren’t worth it.’
“I suppose not…. No reason not to put them in one case. Along with the
notes.~ Spaulding looked over at Lyons, who stood immobile at the end of the
table. ‘Is that all right, doctorT
Lyons nodded, his sad eyes half closed, his pallor accentuated.
‘As you wish,’ said Stoltz. Picking up the envelopes and the notes, he put
them in the first container, locked it, closed the other two and placed
them on top of the first, as if he were performing a religious exercise in
front of an altar.
Spaulding took several steps toward the two men by the window. ‘You’ve had
a rough day. Doctor Lyons, too. Turn in and let your guests walk guard
duty; I think they’re on overtime.’
Hal grinned. Johnny did not.
‘Good evening, doctor. It’s been a privilege meeting such a distinguished
man of science.’ Across the room, Stoltz spoke in diplomatic tones, bowing
a slight diplomatic bow.
The guard with the radio emerged from the kitchen and nodded to the German
attach6. They left the room together. Spaulding smfled at Lyons; the
scientist turned without acknowledging and walked into his bedroom to the
right of the kitchen door.
Outside on the sidewalk, Stoltz held the car door for David. ‘A very
strange man, your Doctor Lyons,’ he said as Spaulding got into the Packard.
‘He may be, but he’s one of the best in his field…. Ask your driver to
stop at a pay phone. IT check the embassy’s radio room. You’ll get your
confirmation.’
‘Excellentidea…. Tben, perhaps, you’ll join me for dinner?’
David looked at the attach6 who sat so confidently, so halfmockingly,
beside him. Stoltz’s nervousness had disappeared. ‘No, Heff
Botschaftssekretir. I have another engagement.’
‘With the lovely Mrs. Cameron, no doubt. I defer.’
Spaulding did not reply. Instead, he looked out the window in silence.
The Terraza Verde was peaceful. The streetlamps cast a soft glow on the
quiet, darkened sidewalks; the sculptured trees in front of the picturesque
Mediterranean houses were silhouetted against pastel-colored brick and
stone. In windows beyond flower boxes, the yellow lamps of living rooms and
bedrooms
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shone invitingly. A man in a business suit, a newspaper under his arm,
walked up the steps to a door, taking a key from his pocket; a young couple
were laughing quietly, leaning against a low wrought-iron fence. A little
girl with a light brown cocker spaniel on a leash was skipping along the
sidewalk, the dog jumping happily out of step.
Terraza Verde was a lovely place to live.
And David thought briefly of another block he’d seen that day. With old men
who smelled of rot and urine; with a toothless whore who leaned on a filthy
sill. With cat intestines and dirtfilmed windows. And with two huge
warehouses that provided no work, and a trawler at anchor, recently
destined for Tortugas.
The Packard turned the comer into another street. There were a few more
lights, less sculptured trees, but the street was very much like Terraza
Verde. It reminded David of those offshoot streets in Lisbon that
approached the rich caminos; dotted with expensive shops, convenient for
wealthy inhabitants a few hundred yards away.
There were shops here, too; with windows subtly lit, wares tastefully