Frau Erika-she never married; "Frau" was honorific- turned to the U.S. Army for help in finding the father of her only child only after she was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. Karl was twelve at the time. His grandfather and uncle, the only known relatives, had been killed in an autobahn accident some months before. Frau Erika reasoned that any family would be better for Karl than leaving him an orphan in Germany. Even an orphan with vast family wealth.
Largely through the efforts of then-Major Allan Naylor of the 11th Armored Cavalry, which was stationed on the East German border near Fulda, WOJG Jorge Alejandro Castillo of San Antonio, Texas, was located. He was interred in San Antonio's National Cemetery. A representation of the Medal of Honor was chiseled into his tombstone. He had died a hero in Vietnam, apparently without ever suspecting that when he had sown his seed it had been fertile.
Once it was realized they were dealing with the love child of an officer whose courage had seen him posthumously awarded the nation's highest recognition of valor, the Army shifted into high gear to make sure that everything possible would be done for the boy.
Major Naylor was rushed to San Antonio to first find and then as gently as possible inform the late WOJG Castillo's family about the boy.
A pragmatist, Naylor had considered several unpleasant possibilities. One was that Mr. Castillo's parents might not be overjoyed to learn that their son had left an illegitimate child in Germany, at least until they heard of his coming inheritance. That would put a new-and possibly unpleasant-light on the subject.
Senior Army lawyers were looking into setting up a trust for the benefit of the boy-and only the boy.
His concern proved to be without basis in fact. General Amory T. Stevens, the Fort Sam Houston commander,who had been Major Naylor's father's roommate at West Point, and was Naylor's godfather, quickly told him that he knew the late Mr. Castillo's parents.
"They are Fernando and Alicia Castillo," Stevens said. "Well known in Texas society as Don Fernando and Dona Alicia. The Don and Dona business isn't only because they own much of downtown San Antonio; plus large chunks of land outside the city; plus, among others, a large ranch near Midland, under which is the Permian basin, but because of something of far more importance to Texans.
"Dona Alicia is the great-, great-, whatever grand-daughter of a fellow named Manuel Martinez. Don Fernando is similarly directly descended from a fellow named Guillermo de Castillo. Manuel and Guillermo both fell in noble battle beside Jim Bowie, William Travis, and Davy Crockett at the Alamo.
"What I'm saying, Allan, is that if this boy in Germany needed help, Don Fernando would quickly cut a check for whatever it would cost. What I'm not sure about is whether he-or, especially, Dona Alicia-is going to be willing to take the love child of their son and a German-probably Protestant-gringo into the family. The Castillos can give lessons in snobbery to the Queen of England."
Twenty-two hours after the late WOJG Castillo's mother was informed, very delicately, that she had an illegitimate grandson, Dona Alicia was at the door of the von und zu Gossinger mansion in Bad Hersfeld. Don Fernando arrived nine hours later.
Two weeks after that, the United States Consulate in Frankfurt am Main issued a passport to Carlos Guillermo Castillo. Don Fernando was not without influence in Washington. The same day-Frau Erika, then in hospital, having decided she didn't want her son's last memory of her to be of a pain-racked terminally ill woman in a drug-induced stupor-Carlos boarded a Pan American Airlines 747 for the United States. Frau Erika died five days later.
On her death, as far as the government of the Federal Republic of Germany was concerned, American citizen with a new name or not, Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger, native-born son, had become the last of the von und zu Gossinger line.
At twenty-one, just before C. G. Castillo graduated from West Point, Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger came into his German inheritance, which included the Tages Zeitung newspaper chain, two breweries, vast-for Germany-farmlands, and other assets.
A second identity, as Herr Karl Gossinger, foreign correspondent of the Tages Zeitung, had proved very useful to Major C. G. Castillo, U.S. Army Special Forces, in the past, and it probably would again in Argentina. In his suite at the Mayflower, C. G. Castillo was nearly finished with packing his luggage. He had carefully packed his small, guaranteed-to-fit-in-any-airplane-overhead-bin suitcase-on-wheels with enough winter clothing to last three or four days. When it was midsummer in Washington, it was midwinter in Buenos Aires. He didn't think he'd be down there longer than that.
All that remained was to pack his briefcase, which also came with wheels and was large enough for his laptop computer. This was somewhat more difficult as it required carefully separating a section of the padding from the frame. Inside was a ten-by-thirteen-inch plastic folder. There was a sticky surface to keep things from sliding around, and the folder material itself was designed to confuse X-ray machines. Castillo carefully arranged his American passport; his U.S. Army identification card; C. G. Castillo's Gold American Express and Gold Visa credit cards; his Texas driver's license; and credentials identifying him as a supervisory special agent of the U.S. Secret Service on the sticky surface, closed the folder, and then replaced the padding.
He then went into the small dining area, and from a small refrigerator concealed in a credenza, took out a bottle of Dos Equis beer, popped the top, took a healthy swallow from the neck, burped, and then went into the living room, where he sat down in a red leather recliner-his, not the hotel's-shifted his weight so that it opened, and reached for the telephone.
He punched in a number from memory, took another sip of the Dos Equis, and then lay back in the chair as he waited for the call to be completed.
The general director of Gossinger Beteiligungsgesellschaft, G.m.b.H., who was also the editor-in-chief of one of its holdings, the Tages Zeitung newspapers, answered his private line twenty seconds later.
"Goerner."
"Wie geht's, Otto?" Castillo said.
"Ach, der verlorene Sohn."
"Well, you may think of me as the prodigal son," Castillo said, switching to English, "but I like to think of myself as one of your more distinguished foreign correspondents."
"Distinguished, I don't know. But I'll go with most expensive."
Castillo thought of Otto Goerner as his oldest friend, and he certainly was that. Otto had been at Philipps University in Marburg an der Lahn with Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger, Karl's uncle, and had been with the Tages Zeitung since their graduation. He had been around der Haus im Wald in Bad Hersfeld, as Uncle Otto, as far back as Castillo could remember. He remembered, too, the very early morning when Otto had brought the news of her father's and brother's death to his mother.
And how, when his mother had told him they had located his father's family and he would probably- "after"-be going to them in the United States, he had thrown a hysterical fit, demanding that he be allowed- "after"-to live with Uncle Otto.
And how, at the airport in Frankfurt, tears had run unashamedly down Otto's cheeks when he'd seen him off to the States. And how he had been a friend ever since. "How's ol' Whatsername and the kids?"
"Ol' Whatsername and your godchildren are doing very well, thank you for asking. To what do I owe the honor?"
"I'm off to Buenos Aires on a story, and I thought I'd see if there was anything else you wanted me to do down there."
"Can't think of anything, Karl," Otto said.
Goerner didn't ask what story Castillo would be pursuing in Argentina.
He's the opposite of a fool, Charley thought for the hundredth time, and without any question knows what I do for a living. But he never asks and I never tell him. All he does is give me what I ask for.
"I won't be gone long," Charley said. "Probably less-"