startled to see a customer, not really sure what to do. Spaulding took a
bill from his pocket – to the astonishment of all three surrounding him –
and spoke in Spanish.
‘Do you have squid?’
‘No. . . . No, no squid. Very little supplies today,’ answered the owner,
his eyes on the bill.
‘What have you got?’
:Worms. Qog meat, some cat. Cat is very good.’
Give me a small container.’
326
The man stumbled backward, picked up pieces of intestine and wrapped them
in a dirty newspaper. He put it on the plank next to the money. ‘I have no
change, sehor. . . .’
‘That’s all right,’ replied Spaulding. ‘The money’s for you. And keep the
bait.’
The man grinned, bewildered. ‘Sehor?. .
‘You keep the money. Understand? … Tell me. Who works over thereT David
pointed at the barely translucent front window. ‘In those big dock housesT
.
‘Hardly anybody …. A few men come and go … now and then. A fishing boat
… now and then.’
‘Have you been insideT
‘Oh, yes. Three, four years ago, I work inside. Big business, three, four..
. . five years ago. We all work.’ The other two old men nodded, chattering
old men’s chatter.
‘Not now?’
‘No, no…. All closed down. Finished. Nobody goes inside now. The owner is
a very bad man. Watchmen break heads.’
‘WatchmenT
‘Oh, yes. With guns. Many guns. Very bad.’
‘Do automobiles come hereT
‘Oh, yes. Now and then…. One or two…. They don’t give us work.’
‘Thank you. You keep the money. Thank you, again.’ David crossed to the
filthy storefront window, rubbed a small section of the glass and looked
out at the block-long stretch of warehouse. It appeared deserted except for
the men on the pier. And then he looked closer at those men.
At first he wasn’t sure; the glass – though rubbed – still had layers of
film on the outside’pane; it wasn’t clear and the men were moving about, in
and out of the small transparent area.
Then he was sure. And suddenly very angry.
The men in the distance on the pier were wearing the same paran-dlitary
clothes the guards at Rhinemann’s gate had worn.
They were Rhinemann’s men.
The telephone rang at precisely five thirty. The caller was not Stoltz, and
because it wasn’t, David refused to accept the instructions given him. He
hung up and waited less than two minutes for the phone to ring again.
‘You are most obstinate,’ said Erich Rhinemann. ‘It is we who should be
cautious, not you.’
327
‘That’s a pointless statement. I have no intention of following the
directions of someone I don’t know. I don’t expect airtight controls but
that’s too loose.’
Rhinemann paused. Then he spoke harshly. ‘What happened last night?’
11 told Stoltz exactly what happened to me. I don’t know anything else.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Rhinemann’s voice was tense, sharp. his anger very
close to the surface.
‘I’m sorry,’ said David. ‘But that doesn’t really concern me.’
‘Neither of those men could have left C6rdobal Impossiblel’
‘They left; take my word for it…. Look, I told Stoltz I don’t want to get
mixed up in your problems. . . .’
‘How do you know you’re not … mixed up?’
It was, of course, the logical question and Spaulding realized that.
‘Because I’m here in my apartment, talking to you. According to Stoltz, the
others are dead; that’s a condition I intend to avoid. I’m merely
purchasing some papers from you. Let’s concentrate on that.’
‘We’ll talk further on this subject,’ said Rhinemann.
‘Not now. We have business to transact!
Again the German Jew paused. ‘Do as the man told you. Go to the Casa Rosada
on the Plaza de Mayo. South gate. If you take a taxi, get off at the Julio
and walk.’
‘Your men will pick me up when I leave the apartment, I assume!
‘Discreetly. To see if you’re followed!
‘Then I’ll walk from here. It’ll be easier.’
‘Very intelligent. A car will be waiting for you at the Rosada. The same
automobile that brought you here last evening.’
‘Will you be there?’ asked David.
:Of course not. But we’ll meet shortly!
I take the designs straight to TelmoT
‘If everything is clear, you may.’
‘I’ll leave in five minutes. Will your men be ready?’
Irbey are ready now,’ answered Rhinemann. He hung up.
David strapped the Beretta to his chest and put on his jacket. He went into
the bathroom, grabbed a towel from the rack and rubbed his shoes, removing
the Aeroparque and La Boca dirt from the leather. He combed his hair and
patted talcum powder over the scratches on his face.
He couldn’t help but notice the dark crescents under his eyes.
128
He needed sleep badly, but there was no time. For his own sake – survival,
really – he knew he had to take the time.
He wondered when it would be.
He returned to the telephone. He had two calls to make before he left.
The first was to Jean. To ask her to stay in the embassy; he might have
reason to call her. At any rate, he would talk to her when he returned. He
said he would be with Eugene Lyons at Terraza Verde. And that he loved her.
The second call was to Henderson Granville.
‘I told you I wouldn’t involve the embassy or yourself in my work here,
sir. If that’s changed it’s only because a man on your staff closed a naval
surveillance file improperly. I’m afraid it directly affects me.’
‘How do you mean “improperly”? That’s a serious implication.’ If not a
chargeable offense.’
‘Yes, sir. And for that reason it’s imperative we raise no alarm, keep
everything very quiet. It’s an Intelligence matter.’
‘Who is this man?’ asked Granville icily.
‘An attach6 named Ellis. William Ellis – please don’t take any action,
sir.’ Spaulding spoke rapidly, emphatically. ‘He may have been duped; he
may not have been. Either way we can’t have him alerted.’
‘Very well. I follow you…. Then why have you told me … if you want no
action taken?’
‘Not against Ellis, sir. We do need a clarification on the surveillance.’
David described the warehouses on Ocho Calle and the trawler moored between
the two buildings.
Granville interrupted quietly. ‘I remember the report. Naval surveillance.
It was a lading destination . . let me think.’
‘Tortugas,’ supplied Spauldini.
‘Yes, that was it. Coastal violations. An error, of course. No fishing boat
would attempt such a trip. The actual destination was Torygos, a small port
in northern Uruguay, I think.’
David thought for a second. Jean hadn’t mentioned the switchor similarity
-of names. ‘That may be, sir, but it would be advantageous to know the
cargo.’
‘It was listed. Farm machinery, I believe.’
‘We don’t think so,’ said Spaulding.
‘Well, we have no right to inspect cargo. . .
‘Mr. Ambassador?’ David cut off the old gentleman. ‘Is there anyone in the
junta we can trust, compktely trust?’
M9
Granvilles reply was hesitant, cautious; Spaulding understood. ‘One. Two,
perhaps.’
‘I won’t ask you their names, sir. I will ask you to request their help.
With priority security measures. Those warehouses are guarded … by Erich
Rhinemann’s men.’
‘Rhinemann?’ The ambassador’s distaste carried over the telephone. That was
an asset, thought David.
‘We have reason to believe he’s aborting a negotiation ortying contraband
into it. Smuggling, sir. We have to know what that cargo is.’ It was all
David could think to say. A generalization without actual foundation. But
if men were willing to kill and be killed for ‘Tortugas,’ perhaps that was
foundation enough. If Fairfax could list the name on his transfer orders
without telling him – that was more than enough.
‘I’ll do what I can, Spaulding. I can’t promise anything, of course.’
‘Yes, sir. I realize. And thank you.’
The Avenida de Mayo was jammed with traffic, the Plaza worse. At the end of
the square the pinkish stone of Casa Rosada reflected the orange flood of
the setting sun. Befitting a capital controlled by soldiers, thought David.
He crossed the Plaza, stopping at the fountain, recalling yesterday and
Leslie Jenner Hawkwood. Where was she now? In Buenos Aires; but where? And
more important, why?
The answer might lie in the name ‘Tortugas’ and a trawler in Ocho Calle.
He circled the fountain twice, then reversed his steps once, testing
himself, testing Erich Rhinemann. Where were the men watching him? Or were
they women?
Were they in cars or taxis or small trucks? Circling as he was circling?
He spotted one. It wasn’t hard to do. The man had seated himself on the
edge of the fountain’s pool, the tail of his jacket in the water. He’d sat
down too quickly, trying to be inconspicuous.
David started across the pedestrian walk – the same pedestrian walk he’d
used following Leslie Hawkwood – and at the first traffic island waited for