"Okay, Otto. This won't take long. We'll see you there," Castillo said, and he and the others got out of the taxi. As Castillo watched it drive away, Sergeant Seymour Kranz touched his arm.
"Major, what the hell is that?" he asked, pointing.
Castillo looked. In the park facing the embassy was a statue of a man in uniform with his hands folded behind his back.
"It's a statue, Seymour. Budapest is full of them. They even have a section of the Berlin Wall around here somewhere."
"That's an old-timey American uniform," Kranz said.
"I'll be damned, I think he's right," Colonel Torine said.
Castillo looked again and asked, "What time is it in Washington, Seymour?"
Kranz consulted his watch and reported, "Oh-four-oh-five, sir."
"Since it won't make much difference to whoever we get out of bed whether it is oh-four-oh-five or oh-four-ten, let us go and broaden our cultural horizons by examining the statue," Castillo said. "Why the hell would there be a statue of an American officer in a park in Budapest?"
They walked to the statue. It was indeed of an American, wearing a World War I-era uniform of riding boots and breeches. He looked as if he were examining the embassy and found it wanting.
There was a bronze plaque with a legend in English beneath it. Kranz read it aloud: "Harry Hill Bandholtz, Brigadier General, U.S. Army. 'I simply carried out the instructions of my Government, as I understood them, as an officer and a gentleman of the United States Army.'"
"I wonder what the hell that's all about?" Fernando said.
"I wonder what the instructions he carried out were to get him a statue?" Kranz asked.
"Gentlemen," Castillo said, "fellow history buffs. Perhaps there is a public information officer in the embassy who can enlighten us all. Shall we see?"
There might have been a public information officer at the embassy, but they never got to meet him.
They encountered first a Marine guard, a buck sergeant, who politely but firmly told them there was no way they could see the ambassador without an appointment.
Colonel Torine produced his Air Force identification.
"Sergeant, you get the defense attache on the phone, or down here, and do it now."
The Marine guard examined the photo ID carefully, and then picked up his telephone.
"There is a USAF colonel here who wants to talk to a defense attache," he announced, and then handed the telephone to Torine.
"This is Colonel Jacob Torine, USAF. Are you the defense attache, Captain?" Brief pause. "Then get him on the goddamned horn, or down here, and right goddamn now!"
An Army lieutenant colonel appeared.
"Colonel Torine?" he asked.
"Right."
"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Martin, sir. I'm the Army attache. May I see your identification, please, sir?"
Torine produced his identification again.
"How may I help you, Colonel?"
"We would like to see either the ambassador or the chief of mission," Torine said.
"May I ask why?"
"No, goddammit, you may not!" Torine exploded.
"Jake!" Castillo said, warningly. "Colonel, what we need to do is get into the White House switchboard on a secure line."
"And you are, sir?"
"My name is Castillo. I'm with the Secret Service."
He showed Lieutenant Colonel Martin his credentials.
"This is very unusual," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said.
"I'm prepared to explain it to the ambassador or the chief of mission," Castillo said.
"One moment, please," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said, and motioned for the Marine guard to slide him the telephone. He punched in a number. "This is Colonel Martin. We have an Air Force colonel here, I've checked his ID, who wants to be connected to the White House switchboard. Can we do that?"
There was a reply.
Lieutenant Colonel Martin turned to Colonel Torine.
"He said that you have to be authorized to connect to the White House switchboard. Do you have that authorization?"
"I do," Torine said.
"Excuse me, sir. But how do I know that?"
Torine threw up his hands in disgust.
"That was your commo room?" Castillo asked.
Lieutenant Colonel Martin nodded.
"Is it tied into the White House switchboard?"
"To the State Department switchboard."
"Tell him to get the State Department switchboard operator. Tell her, or him, as the case may be, that C. G. Castillo wants to talk to the secretary of state, and that if she is not available, to be connected to the White House switchboard."
"You want to talk to the secretary of state, Mr. Costello?"
"It's Castillo. See that you get that right when you call."
"Sir, it's four o'clock in the morning in Washington."
"So I have been told."
"Just one moment, please," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said, and took his hand off the mouthpiece of the telephone. "Mr. Costello-"
"Castillo. Castillo. With an 'a' and an 'i,'" Castillo said.
"Mr. Castello wonders if it would be possible for you to contact the State Department switchboard and ask… see if they will take his call for the secretary of state." Martin turned to Charley. "The office of the secretary, Mr. Castello, or Secretary Cohen personally?"
"Castillo with an 'i,'" Castillo responded. "Secretary Cohen personally."
"Secretary of State Cohen personally," Lieutenant Colonel Martin parroted. He put his hand over the mouthpiece again. "It'll be just a moment."
A moment later, he announced: "They will take your call, Mr. Castillo, but Secretary Cohen is not available. She's in Singapore."
"What time is it in Singapore, Seymour?"
"Jesus, Major, I don't know," Sergeant Kranz confessed.
It was apparent to Castillo that Lieutenant Colonel Martin had picked up on Seymour's use of his rank.
"I don't think this is a secure line, is it, Colonel?" Castillo said. "I need a secure line."
"Yes, of course," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said, and thought that over. "If you'll give the sergeant your identity documents, gentlemen, he'll give you a visitor's badge and I'll escort you to a room with a secure telephone."
They were in the process of handing over their documents when a tall, rather distinguished-looking man walked through the door, smiled, and said, "Good morning."
"Good morning, Mr. Ambassador," Lieutenant Colonel Martin said.
"You're the ambassador?" Castillo asked.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am," the ambassador said. "And you are?"
"He's from the Secret Service, Mr. Ambassador," Lieutenant Colonel Martin offered helpfully.
"Really?"
"And he wants to talk to the secretary of state, sir, personally."
"Indeed?" the ambassador said, and went to the counter and examined the identification documents.
"You did tell Mr. Castillo that the secretary of state isn't here, didn't you, Colonel?" the ambassador asked.
"Actually, she's in Singapore," Castillo said.
"Is she indeed?" the ambassador said. "Would you mind telling me what this is about, Mr. Castillo?"
"I will tell you, sir. But I suggest this isn't the place to do that, sir."
"Well, then, why don't we go to my office and we'll see if we can get to the bottom of this."
"Thank you very much, sir," Castillo said. "I knew Jack Masterson," the ambassador said. "He was a good man."
"Yes, sir, he was."
"You're in Budapest, so there's obviously a Hungarian connection. Are you going to tell me what that is?"
"I was running down a source of information, sir. There is no Hungarian connection I know of to Mr. Masterson's murder."
The ambassador considered that a moment, then pointed at a telephone on his desk. "Help yourself, Mr. Castillo."
"Thank you, sir." He picked it up and punched the "O" key.
"My name is Castillo. Would you get me the state department switchboard on a secure line, please?"
"Sir, I'll have to have someone authorize that."
Castillo pushed the SPEAKERPHONE button. "Mr. Ambassador, I'm going to need your authorization."
"It's okay," the ambassador said, raising his voice.