Now all I have to do is figure out where I'm going.
Two kilometers from Steuben's house, they came to a truck stop.
Truck stops have telephones.
"You can drop me there, Loche," he ordered.
With a great deal of difficulty, he reached Buenos Aires three times.
The butler at the Frade mansion on Avenida Coronel Diaz told him that Se?or Frade was not at home, and politely refused to say any more than that.
The housekeeper at the house on Libertador told him that Se?or Frade had been there earlier but had left, and suggested he try to call the mansion on Avenida Coronel Diaz.
Se?or Humberto Valdez Duarte told him that he had no idea where Cletus was, but if he wasn't' at the house on Coronel Diaz or the Libertador house, the only thing he could think of was that he might be at the estancia. He added that he knew Cletus was back from Brazil, because there was a telephone call from Capitan Lauffer, General Arturo Rawson's aide-de-camp, telling him privately, and not for publication, that Cletus had been a hero of the revolution.
Although it was only sixty or seventy kilometers from Magdalena, he got through to Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo with much greater trouble. Se?or Frade was not at home, but there was a possibility he might be at home later.
"You might try again in an hour or two, Se?or, or perhaps in the morning."
Does that mean Clete is going to be there, or not?
If Standartenf?hrer Goltz arrives at Steuben's house and I'm not there . . .
What if somehow, I can get to Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo and Cletus is not there ?
I know his men are there, probably at the radio station. If that is the case, and Cletus is not there, I could give this information to his deputy; if his deputy is there. Butwhere is there? / have no idea where on the estancia Cletus has placed his radio station and I doubt very much that anyone will tell me. Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo is about as big as Pomerania, and I can't just wander around looking for it.
What is left?
Getting to Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo somehow. If Cletus is not there, I'll write down the position where theComerciante del Oceano Pacifico will drop anchor, and the place on the shoreline where I will unload the Coronel Gasparo, and leave it for him. If he's not there, they will probably deny knowing where he is; but after I leave and I will have to leave, praying that I can get back to Magdalena before the good Standartenf?hrer shows up they will very likely make an effort to reach him or his deputy. Getting in touch with the deputy would be just about as good as getting my message into Cletus's hand.
That suggests the very real possibility that an American submarine, having been provided withOceano Pacifico'.? location by Kapit?nmajor Hans-Peter von Wachtstein, will arrive at the scene at just about the moment Kapit?nmajor Hans-Peter von Wachtstein sails the good ship Coronel Gasparo up to the Oceano Pacifico, and that she will fire her torpedoes just as the master of the Oceano Pacifico, Standartenf?hrer Goltz, and I are exchanging pleasantries.
Maybe that would be appropriate.
How do I reach Estancia San Pedroy San Pablo from here?
He made one more telephone call, getting through on the fourth attempt.
"Estancia Santo Catalina."
"Se?orita Alicia Carzino-Cormano, please. Se?or Condor is calling."
"One moment, por favor, Se?or. I will see if the lady is at home."
"Oh, my God, Peter, where are you?"
"Magdalena."
"Magdalena?" she parroted incredulously.
"I need some help, Liebchen. If there was any other"
"What do you need?"
"I need you to come here and pick me up, take me to Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo, and then bring me back here."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you."
"Where are you in Magdalena? The Hotel San Martin?"
"I'm at the truck stop on the highway."
"I know it," Alicia said. "It will take me an hour. Is that all you have to say to me?"
"Liebchen, if I knew any other way . . ."
"I was thinking along the lines, of Te amo, Alicia.'"
"Te amo, Alicia," he said, and for some reason his voice broke.
"An hour, mi vida," she said, and hung up.
[TWO]
Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo
Near Pila, Buenos Aires Province
2245 18 April 1943
When el Patron arrived at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo in the rear seat of the ancient Rolls Royce, he was in a state of sexual excitement and frustration. He also felt somewhat ashamed of himself.
After they drove away from her father's house, their several minutes of tender embraces quickly turned passionate. And Se?orita Dorotea Mallin realized that unless she took immediate action, there was going to be activity on the leather seats that would not only be improper but that could not escape the attention of Suboficial Mayor Enrico Rodriguez, who was driving.
"Stop, Cletus!" she firmly ordered. "Not here!"
They broke apart and took up positions at opposite ends of the wide, dark-red leather seat. Dorotea placed her hand in the space between them, and Clete took it.
They rode along that way for perhaps half an hour. Then Clete became aware that Dorotea had dozed off. He thought this was very sweet but quickly changed his mind. The way she was sitting, every time her head dropped below a certain position it clearly caused her discomfort, and she would suddenly snap her head erect.
With absolutely innocent motivation, Clete gently pulled the dozing Dorotea to him and let her head rest in his lap. He gently and lovingly stroked her hair for several minutes, marveling that this sweet and gentle creature loved him, was bearing his child, andas soon as they received that goddamned counseling from the Very Reverend Matthew Cashley-Pricewas going to be his bride, his wife, to have and to hold from that day forward until death did them part.
With that certainly decent and arguably perhaps even noble line of thought in his mind, he then dropped off to sleep himself.
He awoke two hours later to find Dorotea's head still innocently in his lap, but its weight was delivering surprisingly sharp pain to what was the father of all erections.
He tried to endure the pain. He looked out the window. He couldn't see much.
"Where are we?"
"About five minutes from the house," Enrico replied, adding. "You were snoring again, Se?or Clete."
"Thank you very much, Enrico," Clete said, and then yelped in pain.
"Se?or?"
"It is nothing," Clete said.
He tried to gently waken Dorotea. All that did was make her shift her head, with a concomitant painful reaction in the physiological symbol of his gender.
"Sweetheart," he cried cheerfullytrying to sound cheerful required a good deal of effort"wake up, we're almost there!"
He had to repeat the message three times before he broke into Dorotea's peaceful slumber. By then, he could see the lights of the big house.
She then pushed herself erect, and in doing so, her hand quite innocently found the source of his discomfort.
"Cletus," she said naughtily. "You should be ashamed of yourself!"
For reasons he could not imagine, she then gave it a good squeeze.
"Jesus, Dorotea!"
Enrico blew three short blasts on the horn.
As they turned onto the drive before the big house, the verandah lights came on. Clete saw Rudolpho, his short-barreled cavalry Mauser carbine slung from his shoulder, come quickly off the verandah toward the car.