I could. I can’t convince myself – to paraphrase a certain girl – that what
I’m doing will make that much difference … but I react out of habit, I
guess. Maybe ego; maybe it’s as
simple as that.’ II
‘I said you were good, didn’t V’
:Yes. And I am…. Do you know what I am?’
An intelligence officer. An agent. A man who works with other men; in
whispers and at night and with a great deal of
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Money and lies. That’s the way I think, you see.’
6Not that. That’s new…. What I really am…. I’m a construction engineer.
I build buildings and bridges and dams and highways. I once built an
extension for a zoo in Mexico; the best open-air enclosure for primates you
ever saw. Unfortunately, we spent so much money the Zoological Society
couldn’t afford monkeys, but the space is there.’
She laughed softly. ‘You’re funny.’
‘I liked working on the bridges best. To cross a natural obstacle without
marring it, without destroying its own purpose. . . .’
61 never thought of engineers as romantics.’
‘Construction engineers are. At least, the best ones…. But that’s all.
long ago. When this mess is over I’ll go back, of course, but I’m not a
fool. I know the disadvantages I’ll be faced with. … It’s not the same as
a lawyer putting down his books only to pick them up again; the law doesn’t
change that much. Or a stockbroker; the market solutions can’t change.’
‘I’m not sure what you’re driving at. . . .’
‘Technology. It’s the only real, civilized benefit war produces. In
construction it’s been revolutionary. In three years whole new techniques
have been developed. . . . I’ve been out of it. My postwar references won’t
be the best.’
6Good Lord, you’re sorry for yourself.’
‘Christ, yes! In one way…. More to the point, I’m angry. Nobody held a
gun to my head; I walked into this … this job for all the wrong reasons
and without any foresight …. That’s why I have to be good at it.’
‘What about us? Are we an “us”T
61 love you,’ he said simply. ‘I know that.’
‘After only a week? That’s what I keep asking myselL We’re not children.’
‘We’re not children,’ he replied. ‘Children don’t have access to State
Department dossiers.’ He smiled, then grew serious. ‘I need your help.’
She glanced at him sharply. ‘What is itT
‘What do you know about Erich Rhinemann?’
‘He’s a despicable man.’
‘He’s a JewO9 –
‘Then he’s a despicable Jew. Race and religion notwithstanding,
immaterial.9
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‘Why is he despicable?’
‘Because he uses people. Indiscriminately. Maliciously. He uses his money
to corrupt whatever and whomever he can. He buys influence from the junta;
that gets him land, government concessions, shipping rights. He forced a
number of mining companies out of the Patagonia Basin; he took over a dozen
or so oil fields at Comodoro Rivadavia. .
‘What are his politics?’
Jean thought for a second; she leaned back in the chair, looking for an
instant at the window, then over to Spaulding. ‘Himself,’she answered.
‘I’ve heard he’s openly pro-Axis.’
‘Only because he believed England would fall and terms would be made. He
still owns a power base in Germany, I’m told!
‘But he’s a Jew.’
‘Temporary handicap. I don’t think he’s an elder at the synagogue. The
Jewish community in Buenos Aires has no use for him.,
David stood up. ‘Maybe that’s it.’
‘What?’
,Rhinemann turned his back on the tribe, openly supports the creators of
Auschwitz. Maybe they want him killed. Take out his guards first, then go
after him.’
‘If by “they” you mean the Jews here, I’d have to say no. The Argentine
judios tread lightly. The colonels’ legions are awfully close to a goose
step; Rhinemann has influence. Of course, nothing stops a fanatic or two.
. . .’
‘No…. They may be fanatics, but not one or two. They’re organized;
they’ve got backing – considerable amounts, I think.’
‘And they’re after Rhinemann? The Jewish community would panic. Frankly,
we’d be the first they’d come to.’
David stopped his pacing. The words came back to him again; there’ll be no
negotiations with Altinfiller. A darkened doorway on New York’s
Fifty-second Street.
‘Have you ever heard the name AltmUller?’
‘No. There’s a plain Mailer at the German embassy, I think, but that’s like
Smith or Jones. No AltmUller.’
‘What about Hawkwood? A woman named Leslie Jenner Hawkwood?’
‘No, again. But if these people are intelligence oriented,
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there’d be no reason for me to.’
‘They’re Intelligence but I didn’t think they were undercover. At least not
this AltmOller.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘His name has been used in a context that assumes recognition. But I can’t
find him.’
‘Do you want to check the “Caves”?’ she asked.
‘Yes. I’ll do it directly with Granville. When do they openT
‘Eight thirty. Henderson’s in his office by quarter to nine.’ She saw David
hold up his wrist, forgetting he had no watch. She looked at her office
clock. ‘A little over two hours. Remind me to buy you a watch.’
‘Thanks…. Ballard. I have to see him. How is he in the early morning? At
this hour?’
‘I trust that question’s rhetorical. . . . He’s used to being roused up for
code problems. Shall I call him?’
‘Please. Can you make coffee here?’
‘There’s a hotplate out there.’ Jean indicated the door to the anteroom.
‘Behind my secretary’s chair. Sink’s in the closet. … Never mind. I’ll do
it. Let me get Bobby first.’
‘I make a fine pot of coffee. You call, I’ll cook. You look like such an
executive, I’d hate to interfere.’
He was emptying the grounds from the pot when he heard it. It was a
footstep. A single footstep outside in the corridor. A footstep that should
have been muffled but wasn’t. A second step would ordinarily follow but
didn’t.
Spaulding put the pot on the desk, reached down and removed both his shoes
without a sound. He crossed to the closed door and stood by the frame.
There it was again. Steps. Quiet; unnatural.
David opened his jacket, checking his weapon, and put his left hand on the
knob. He turned it silently, then quickly opened the door and stepped out.
Fifteen feet away a man walking down the corridor spun around at the noise.
The look on his face was one Spaulding had seen many times.
Fright.
‘Oh, hello there, you must be the new man. We haven’t met. … The name’s
Ellis. Bill Ellis…. I have a beastly conference at seven.’ The attach6
was not convincing.
‘Several of us were going fishing but the weather reports are
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uncertain. Care to come with us?’
‘I’d love to except I have this damned ungodly hour meeting.’
Yes. That’s what you said. How about coffee?’
‘Thanks, old man. I really should bone up on some paperwork.’
‘O.K. Sorry.’
‘Yes, so am I…. Well, see you later.’ The man named Ellis smiled
awkwardly, gestured a wave more awkwardly – which David returned – and
continued on his way.
Spaulding went back into Jean’s office and closed the door. She was
standing by the secretary’s desk.
‘Who in heaven’s name were you talking to at this hour?’
‘He said his name was Ellis. He said he had a meeting with someone at seven
o’clock…. He doesn’t.’
‘What?’
‘He was lying. What’s Ellis’s department?’
‘Import-export clearances.’
‘That’s handy…. What about Ballard?’
‘He’s on his way. He says you’re a mean man…. What’s “handy” about
Ellis?’
Spaulding went to the coffee pot on the desk, picked it up and started for
the closet. Jean interrupted his movement, taking the pot from him. ‘What’s
Ellis’s rating?’ he asked.
‘Excellent. Strictly the syndrome; he wants the Court of St. James’s. You
haven’t answered me. What’s “handy”?’
‘He’s been bought. He’s a funnel. It could be serious or just penny-aqte
waterfront stuff.’
‘Oh?’ Jean, perplexed, opened the closet door where there was a washbasin.
Suddenly, she stopped. She turned to Spaulding. ‘David. What does
“Tortugas” mean?’
‘Oh, Christ, stop kidding.’
‘Which means you can’t tell me.’
‘Which means I don’t know. I wish to heaven I did!
‘It’s a code word, isn’t it? That’s what it says in your file.’
‘It’s a code I’ve never been told about and I’m the one responsiblel’
‘Here, fill this; rinse it out first.’ Jean handed him the coffee pot and
walked rapidly into her office, to the desk. David followed and stood in
the doorway.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Attach6s, even undersecretaries, if they have very early appointments,
list them with the gate.’
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‘Ellis?’
Jean nodded and spoke into the telephone; her conversation was brief. She
replaced the instrument and looked over at Spaulding. ‘The first gate pass
is listed for nine. Ellis has no meeting at seven.’
.I’m not surprised. Why are you?’
‘I wanted to make sure…. You said you didn’t know what “Tortugas” meant.