In this connection, your first duty is to survive the war. Under no circumstances are you to return to Germany for any purpose until the war is over. If you are ordered to return, find now some place where you can hide safely.
Your second duty is to transfer the family funds from Switzerland to Argentina as quickly as possible. You have by now made contact with our friend in Argentina, and he will probably be able to be of help. In any event, make sure the funds are in some safe place. It would be better if they could be wisely invested, but the primary concern is to keep them safe from the Sicherheitsdienst until the war is over.
In the chaos that will occur in Germany after the war, the only hope our people will have, to keep them in their homes, indeed to keep them from starvation, and the only hope there will be for the future of the von Wachtstein family, and the estates, will be the money that I have placed in your care.
I hope, one day, to be able to go with you again to the village for a beer and a sausage. If that is not to be, I have confidence that God in his mercy will allow us to be all together again, your mother and your brothers, and you and I, in a better place.
I have taken great pride in you, Hansel.
Poppa
Major Freiherr Hans-Peter von Wachtstein turned away from the desk of the Ambassador of the German Reich to the Republic of Argentina and cleared his throat; and then, because it was necessary, he took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his eyes and cheeks.
"Excuse me, Mr. Ambassador."
"May I see the letter, please?"
"It is a personal letter, Mr. Ambassador."
"You either trust me or you don't, Freiherr von Wachtstein."
Peter met his eyes for a moment, then handed the letter over. The Ambassador read it.
Your father is eloquent, as well as a brave and honorable man, von Wachtstein," the Ambassador said, and then added, "Hold it over the wastebasket and burn it."
Peter met his eyes again.
"No, Sir," he said. "I don't wish to burn it."
"If Oberst Gr?ner finds that letter ..."
"He will not find it, Mr. Ambassador."
The Ambassador considered that for a moment, and nodded.
"As to the other matter," he said. "Transferring the funds here from Switzerland is a simple matter of sending a cable. Keeping their presence here unknown, and investing them wisely, is quite another problem."
"I understand."
"How much help do you think your friend Frade will be?" von Lutzenberger asked. "His uncle is General Manager of the Anglo-Argentine Bank."
"I don't think I follow you, Mr. Ambassador."
"You are beginning to frighten me, von Wachtstein, and to annoy me," von Lutzenberger said coldly. "Please don't waste my time by telling me you didn't warn Frade about Gr?ner's idiotic plan to eliminate him. Frade owes you his life. My question is how helpful you think he will be. If that young Duarte fool hadn't gotten himself killed at Stalingrad, the Anglo-Argentine Bank would have been a helpful connection."
"I hadn't thought about..."
"Start thinking, von Wachtstein. Otherwise we'll both be dead."
[FOUR]
Room 305
Dr. Cosme Argerich Military Hospital
Calle Luis Maria Campos
Buenos Aires
0905 22 December 1942
Clete was lying on the bed, reading La Nation and sipping at a cup of coffee, when he heard the locked door being opened. Enrico, whom he thought was sound asleep, was instantly awake, with the Remington in his hands.
El Teniente Coronel Bernardo Martin stepped into the room, carrying a small suitcase. After a moment, Clete recognized it; it was his. Martin looked at Enrico and his ready shotgun with approval.
"Buenos dias, Suboficial Mayor," Martin said dryly, then switched to English. "How are you this morning, Mr. Frade?"
"I'm fine, thank you. A little bored."
"Well, the doctors tell me that you can leave the hospital," Martin said.
What doctors? I haven't seen a doctor since the one who hacked away at me when I got here.
"So I have taken the liberty of bringing you some of your things from the Guest House."
He laid the suitcase on the bed.
"Thank you," Clete said. "You mean, I'm free to go?"
Martin ignored the question. "I hope that you will report to theman from your embassy that you have been well-treated here."
"What man from the embassy?"
"Yourembassy seems extraordinarily concerned with your welfare," Martin said. "As soon as the story of your encounter with the burglars appeared in the Herald, they started making quite a nuisance of themselves, first at the Polic?a Federal, and lately at the Foreign Ministry."
"Is that so?"
"There's a Consular Officer, a man named Spiers, waiting downstairs to see you now. He was told you're being given a final physical examination, which should be over about half past nine. Will that give you time for a shower and a shave? Or shall I have him told you'll be a little longer?"
"You didn't answer my question. Am I free to go?"
"Certainly, now that we are sure you are in the best of health, and the Polic?a Federal have concluded their investigation of the unfortunate incident on Avenida Libertador." "Thank you."
"Thank you for your cooperation," Martin said. "You might be interested to know that the criminals have been identified. Both of them have long criminal records, including a history of armed robbery. The Polic?a Federal will not miss them."
"Thank you again."
"May I make a suggestion?"
"Of course."
"Your Consular Officer might misinterpret Sergeant Major Rodriguez's shotgun. Would you feel comfortable if he put it away? I assure you that adequate protection for you is in place." Clete shrugged his shoulders.
"Here and at your home. The Polic?a Federal are more than a little embarrassed that such a terrible incident could have happened on Avenida Libertador at the home of one of our more prominent citizens. I feel sure that for the next month, at least, the area will be heavily patrolled."
"You think it will take that long for my father to arrange to have me expelled?"
"This is Argentina. Even under these circumstances, any administrative procedure takes a long time." Martin put out his hand.
"While I regret the circumstances, Mr. Frade, it has been a pleasure meeting you. Perhaps we will see one another again in the future."
Clete shook Martin's hand.
"Thank you," he said.
"Take care of yourself, Mr. Frade," Martin said. He smiled at Enrico, offered him his hand, and then left the room. This time there was no sound of a key being turned in the lock.
"Is it permitted to ask what that was all about?" Enrico asked.
"Put the shotgun away, Enrico," Clete said. "I'm about to be visited by an American diplomat, and it would frighten him. After that, we can leave."
Enrico nodded.
"Out of sight," he said. "Not away."
He moved his chair beside the bed, then slipped the shotgun under the sheet.
"I'm going to take a shower and a shave," Clete said. "If someone knocks, let him in."
[FIVE]
"Mr. Frade, I'm H. Ronald Spiers, Vice Consul of the United States here in Buenos Aires."