The Honor Of Spies - The Honor of Spies Part 60
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The Honor of Spies Part 60

"There was SS on the U-boat?" Frade asked.

"About a dozen of them, the best I could see," O'Sullivan said.

"Anybody see you while you were looking?" Clete asked.

O'Sullivan shook his head.

"No, sir," he said, and with a smile added, "And there was some kind of big shot. All dressed up. Complete to homburg hat and briefcase. His rubber boat struck something and sank like a rock. He got soaked."

Looking at Niedermeyer, Frade said, "That was probably SS-Brigadefuhrer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg. You know who he is?"

Niedermeyer nodded, then blurted, "He's here? He came here by U-boat?"

Clete nodded.

"Which makes me wonder how he came here," Schultz said, nodding toward Niedermeyer.

"On my airplane," Clete said.

"You are going to tell us what's going on, right?" Schultz said.

Clete looked at Schultz.

Maybe, after I figure out how I'm going to explain everything to everybody.

Right now, I don't have a clue how to do that.

"I'm going to wait until everybody is here," Frade said, stalling. "I don't want to do it twice."

Someone else almost immediately appeared at the dining room door, but it wasn't whom Clete expected. It was a svelte, formidable woman in her mid-fifties who had gray-flecked, luxuriant black hair and wore a simple black dress with a triple strand of pearls.

Shit!

I should have realized that Claudia was likely to show up!

But why the hell couldn't she have invited herself for a late lunch? By then, I'd be out of here.

And how am I going to explain any of this to her?

He said: "Senora Claudia Carzino-Cormano! What an unexpected pleasure."

Claudia went to Dorotea and embraced her affectionately. Then she looked at Cletus: "I've got a message for you, Senor Sarcastic. Can I give it to you now?"

"Whisper it in my ear," Clete said.

"You're serious, aren't you?" she asked.

He nodded.

She went to him.

"I probably shouldn't kiss you," she said, "but I will. I missed you at the airport."

Then she kissed him and, covering her mouth with her hand, whispered in his ear.

He immediately parroted it out loud.

" 'Von Wachtstein's on his way in his Storch to meet von Deitzberg at the airport in Carrasco,'" he said, then added rhetorically: "I wonder what the hell that's about? Von Deitzberg went over there on the SAA flight yesterday afternoon. You'd think he would come back that way."

"Unless," Dorotea offered, "he wanted to take advantage of Peter's diplomatic immunity and have him fly something back here he didn't want to risk carrying through customs."

"Yeah," Clete said, accepting that immediately. He gave Dorotea a thumbs-up.

She smiled and shrugged as if to say, Well, what did you expect?

"That's all Peter said to tell you," Claudia said, then went to the priests, kissing Welner first.

"I passed a Little Sisters of the Poor bus on the way over here," Claudia said. "That yours, Father Kurt?"

He nodded.

"It's nice to see you again, Father," she said, offering her hand to the bona fide Jesuit. Then she turned to Niedermeyer. "I'm afraid I don't know your name, Father."

"His name is Niedermeyer," Clete said. "He's not a priest."

"What did you say?" Claudia asked, but before Clete could respond, she looked at Welner.

"What is going on here, Father Kurt?" she demanded.

"Claudia, I think Cletus would much prefer to answer that."

She looked at Cletus.

"What I would much prefer is not to answer at all," Clete said. "But pull up a chair, Claudia, and I'll think of something."

Why the hell didn't you think of a story to tell all these people, Senor Superspy?

You didn't think anybody would be curious?

Claudia sat at the table, looked at him, waited all of thirty seconds, and then asked, "Well?"

"I'm waiting for the others to arrive."

"What others?"

"They should be here any minute," Clete said.

"Why can't you tell me now?" she demanded.

Because I don't know what to say.

"They should be here any minute," Clete repeated.

"I think I just heard somebody drive up," Schultz said.

A minute later, one of the maids opened the door from the foyer.

"Sister Maria Isabel of the Little Sisters of the Poor asks to see you, Father," the maid announced to Welner.

Welner looked at Clete, who nodded.

"Ask the sister to come in, please," Welner said.

"There are nuns and a priest and children with her, Father," the maid said.

"The more the merrier," Clete said. "Bring them all in."

When the nun came into the room, she had with her a priest wearing a brown cassock with a rope belt, his bare feet in sandals--That has to be SS-Obersturmbannfuhrer Alois Strubel; I remember him from the plane--two boys Clete decided were about ten, a girl he thought was probably a year or two younger, and three other nuns.

Two of those nuns clearly are the mothers of the children--and the wives of Strubel and Niedermeyer. But I don't have a clue as to who's who.

Sister Maria Isabel looks like the economy-size version of Mother Superior of the Little Sisters of Santa Maria del Pilar. She's a foot taller, probably sixty pounds heavier, but is also old, leathery-skinned, and has the same intelligent eyes and the same fuck with me at your peril aura of self-confidence.

For an important intelligence officer--especially an SS officer--Strubel is not very imposing in that monk's costume.

And what do the bona fide nuns think is going on?

Those kids are frightened.

Who wouldn't be?

They look like they need a bath, some new clothes, and something to eat. They look like they're starved.

"Elisa," he called loudly in Spanish. "Where the hell is breakfast?"

Clete saw the children flinch.

Nice work, Cletus--if they were scared before, now they're terrorized!

He stood up and walked to the children.

Is this smart, or am I making things even worse?

"Good morning," he said in German. "My name is Clete. I'm the headwaiter. In just a minute, we'll get you some breakfast."

They looked at him with sad eyes. No one responded.

The door to the kitchen opened. The odors of frying bacon and freshly baked sweet rolls came into the dining room. A line of maids came through the door carrying silver-dome-covered trays of food.

Thank God!

"See?" Clete said.

Now there was some interest in their eyes.

Another maid appeared, a large glass pitcher of milk in each hand.

"Milch?" the young girl asked softly.

"Enough for you to swim in, sweetheart," Clete said.

The young girl giggled.

Thank God again.

He put his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her toward the table. After a moment's hesitation, the girl allowed Clete to lead her to the table. The boys started to follow.

Thank God yet again.

No. I mean it. That's not just a figure of speech.

There's no reason for these kids to have to go through what they have and still be hungry, not quite able to believe they can have all the milk they want.

Thank you, God.

He saw Welner get up from where he was sitting and walk toward them. Jesus H. Christ . . . I've got it!

I know how to explain everything to everybody!

Where the hell did that come from?

Doesn't matter. It'll work!

The maids began uncovering the trays of food. There were fried and scrambled and soft-boiled eggs, bacon, ham, toast, rolls, two bowls jammed with butter curls, and half a dozen bowls of marmalade.

"My God," one of the nuns said softly, wonderingly. "So much food!"

That's somebody's mother.

Welner, now back at his place at the table, tapped his glass with his fork and, when he had everyone's attention, began, "Our Father: We offer our thanks for the safe conclusion of our hazardous journey, and for the bounty we are about to receive. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost."

Dorotea said, "Amen."

She then looked at her husband, who finally got the message and said, "Amen."

He saw tears rolling down the cheeks of one of the nuns-who-had-to-be-somebody's-mother as she generously buttered a roll and handed it to the girl. Clete had thought it over very carefully as everyone ate. He concluded that not only did he have no choice but to go with the explanation that had suddenly popped into his mind, but also that they very likely just might believe it.

"I suppose everyone is wondering what's going on," he said.