All that was well and good, but what el Coronel also did was arrange for Capitan Duarte to be posted to the German Army as an observer. For this Humberto vowed he would never forgive himnow, of course, he was sorry about that. Logic told Humberto that el Coronel would rather die himself than see any harm come to Jorge Alejandro, but the facts were that el Coronel arranged for Jorge Alejandro to go to Germany as an observer, and that he was killed at Stalingrad. The godless Communists shot down an observation aircraft that he was flying, against regulations for a neutral observer.
Beatrice's nervous problems grew worse, naturally, when Jorge went to Europe. And when word of his death reached them, it pushed her over the edge. And so, one of the apartments in their house was turned into what was really a psychiatric facility. It was complete to a hospital bed with restraints, and nurses on duty and doctors on call around the clock. After a time, she came out of it with Monsignor Kelly reminding her that suicide is a mortal sin, and the doctors keeping her in a chemically induced state of tranquility.
Meanwhile, in what Humberto regarded as a cold and calculated public relations gesture, and Beatrice as an act of great Christian charity and compassion, the Germans returned Jorge's remains from Stalingrad, escorted by a highly decorated Luftwaffe pilot from a very good German family.
Jorge's remains and Major Hans-Peter von Wachtstein of the Luftwaffe arrived in Buenos Aires at almost the same time as another highly decorated aviator. The second dashing young hero was an American Marine. In what Humberto regarded as a cold and calculated diplomatic move, the Americans sent him to Argentina primarily because he was Jorge Guillermo Frade's long-estrangedfrom infancyson. It was common gossipat least before Cletus arrivedthat el Coronel was probably going to be the next President of the Argentine Republic, and the norteamericanos were certainly aware of this.
Though Cletus Howell Frade was, of course, his and Beatrice's nephew, Humberto confessed to Padre Welner, a Jesuitnot to Monsignor Kelly, who had already heard too much of his private affairs through Beatricethat he had selfish and un-Christian thoughts about him, and was afraid he hated him, for no reason except that Cletus was alive and Jorge Alejandro was dead.
Jorge Alejandro was buried in the family tomb in Recoleta Cemetery with much ceremonyincluding an escort by the Husares de Pueyrred?n and the pinning of the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross to the flag covering his casket. In her chemically induced tranquility, Beatrice seemed more interested in the postinterment reception at the house than in the burial of their only child.
The same night, the Germans tried to murder Cletus Frade. The official story was that Cletus came across burglars, but there was no question in Humberto's mind that the same Germans who solemnly honored Jorge Alejandro at the Basilica of Our Lady of Pilar in Recoleta Cemetery cold-bloodedly ordered the assassination of his cousin on the same day.
Beatrice accepted the burglar story without question. And later, when her brother died at the hands of "bandits," she was even further removed from reality. She was absolutely incapable of believing that the charming German Ambassador, Graf von Lutzenberger, or the even more charming Baron Gradny-Sawz, his first secretary, were capable of displaying bad manners, much less ordering the assassination of her brother.
In fact, she made a point of personally inviting both of them to the postinterment reception they were holding.
Under the circumstances, Beatrice's dissociation from reality was probably a good thing. Humberto did not want to see her again as she was when word of Jorge Alejandro's death had reached them. It broke his heart.
And there were practical considerations, too. Gradny-Sawz was delighted that Beatrice made von Wachtstein a welcome guest in their home. (The young German airman had remained in Buenos Aires as the Assistant Military Attach? for Air at the German Embassy.) Gradny-Sawz considered himself an aristocrat. Thus he saw this relationship between the aristocratic young officer and the prominent Duarte familyand consequently the Anglo-Argentine Bank as both natural and of potential use to Germany. At the same time, he didn't have the faintest idea that the real relationship between von Wachtstein and the Anglo-Argentine Bank had absolutely nothing to do with furthering the interests of the Nazis, but the reverse.
When Humberto pushed open the door to the reception, Cletus Frade was sitting on a couch beside Claudia Carzino-Cormano, who was holding his hand. When Cletus saw his uncle, he stood up.
Humberto went to him. Although Cletus had made it quite clear that norteamericanos regarded any gesture between men more intimate than a handshake as damned oddeven between uncle and nephewhe embraced him, kissed both of his cheeks, and then embraced him again.
"Cletus, I am so very sorry."
"Thank you."
"God has seen fit to take my son, and your father," Humberto said. "May they rest in peace. And God, I like to think, has given us each other. I will now regard you as my son, and ask that you think of me as your father."
Oh, shit. He means that. That's bullshit, pure and simple. So why do I feel like crying?
Clete found himself embracing his uncle.
"And how is Aunt Beatrice?" he heard himself asking when they broke apart.
"I have come to believe that God, in his infinite mercy, has chosen to spare Beatrice the pain she would feel under normal circumstances. I think you take my meaning."
Clete nodded.
In other words, what Claudia said was right on the money. She's in the arms of Jesus and drugs, and you know it. You poor bastard.
"Beatrice will join us shortly," Humberto said, then turned to Claudia and her daughters, kissing them each in turn.
"Do you have everything you need?" he asked.
Everybody nodded.
"I think I will have a little taste, myself," Humberto said, and made his way to the cabinet bar. "Beatrice will be along in a minute, and then we can have our dinner."
Chapter Seven
[ONE]
1420 Avenida Alvear
Buenos Aires, Argentina
2145 9 April 1943
Beatrice Frade de Duarte appeared in the library a few minutes after her husband. She was immaculately turned out, and the soul of refined hospitality. And quite obviously mad.
She kissed Clete on the cheek as if she had seen him only a few hours before, gaily kissed the Carzino-Cormano females, complimented them on their dresses and hair, and then called for champagne.
"Champagne increases one's appreciation of food," she complained, "but whiskey simply makes one gluttonous."
Claudia Carzino-Cormano, smiling brightly with a visible effort, squeezed Clete's upper arm painfully.
When the champagne was served, Beatrice toasted, "Good friends. They are always such support at a time like this."
Clete thought Alicia was going to cry.
After Beatrice carefully paired them offHumberto with Claudia, Capitan Lauffer with Isabela, and Clete with Aliciathey went into the dining. She began the dinner conversation with the announcement: "This is probably the wrong time to say thisCletus would have to get a special dispensation from the Cardinal Archbishop to waive the year's mourning periodbut I always suspected that my late brother hoped that Cletus and Isabela would be struck by Cupid's arrow. I think of you, dear Claudia, as family already. Their marriage would make it official."
"Well, you never know what time will bring," Claudia said quickly, to forestall any reply from either Isabela, who rolled her eyes, or Clete.