"In the meantime, today we're going to spread the word that the Gendarmeria came here, found a small cache of weapons, and took them off your hands. So there's no reason for Schmidt to come looking for them. Maybe that will stop Schmidt. Maybe it won't."
"And if it doesn't?"
"The only thing I can tell you for sure, Don Cletus, is that if there is a civil war, the first battle will not be between Schmidt's Mountain Troops and the Gendarmeria."
"But between Schmidt's Mountain Troops and Don Cletus Frade's ragtag little private army?"
"I don't want that to happen either," Peralta said. "But--and this is not a recommendation or even a suggestion--if you could somehow stall Schmidt outside your gates, perhaps there would be time for Ejercito Argentino officers senior to Colonel Schmidt to come here and ask him what the hell he was doing. I think that maybe even hearing that this was about to happen would send Schmidt back to San Martin de los Andes."
"Unless, of course," Nowicki said, "the Nazi bastard has decided--or been told--that now is the time to start the civil war."
"Unless, of course, the Nazi bastard, on orders or on his own, wants to start a civil war," Peralta said.
"How am I supposed to stall him at the gates?" Clete said.
When he looked at Peralta, he saw that Stein was standing in the door waiting for permission to enter.
"A mortar round or two, or several bursts from a .50-caliber machine gun, might do the trick," Peralta said. "I did not say that."
Stein's eyebrows rose.
"What have you got, Stein?" Clete asked.
"We have just heard from Moses, Major. A graven message fresh from Mount Sinai."
I suppose late is better than never.
"Let's have it," Frade said.
Stein walked to him and handed him Graham's message.
"Oh, shit!" Clete said when he had read it.
He looked around the room.
Peralta looked at him curiously.
"Let me ask a dumb question," Clete said. "Where is it that dead heroes go in the afterlife?"
"Valhalla," Peralta said. "They are taken there by Valkyries."
Okay, so you know.
Captain Madison R. Sawyer III does not know, nor does Staff Sergeant/Major Sigfried Stein.
What about Subinspector Estanislao Nowicki and Subinspector Navarro?
From the looks on everybody's faces, nobody except Peralta has a clue.
Dead heroes in the afterlife? Valkyries? What the hell?
Who am I fooling?
I'm going to have to tell Sawyer and Stein; I really should have told them before. I promised everybody on Team Turtle there would be no secrets between us.
And Subinspectors Navarro and Nowicki are going to ask Inspector Peralta what the hell is going on, and he's going to tell them.
And what are my detailed orders from Mount Sinai?
"Use your best judgment."
"I would appreciate it if you listen carefully to this," Clete said.
Everyone looked at him.
"Senor Kortig and Senor Moller are German officers," Clete began. "Moller is an SS major who told me he believes any officer who violates his oath of personal allegiance to Adolf Hitler is a traitor--"
"You brought a goddamn Nazi into Argentina?" Nowicki exploded.
"Easy, Estanislao," Peralta said.
Frade was nodding. "For reasons--good reasons--known to Inspector Peralta. He can explain them to you if he wishes later, but let me continue.
"Kortig is a lieutenant colonel. He tells me that he is privy to a very important secret with the code name Valkyrie. He also told me that he was sent on this duty--ostensibly as a suboficial mayor--to keep an eye on Moller, who was sent here because he was getting too close to the Valkyrie secret." He paused, then asked, "Have I succeeded in confusing everybody?"
"I will tell you what I can of this later," Peralta said to the Gendarmeria officers, then gestured to Frade. "Go on, please, Don Cletus."
"What we know now is that Moller cannot be trusted."
"If he can't be trusted, kill him," Nowicki said.
"You and Enrico think alike," Clete said. "But right now that wouldn't be smart. There is another German officer here, another lieutenant colonel, who is privy to Valkyrie. I know about this man. If he recognizes Kortig, then Kortig can be trusted."
"That's the South African?" Peralta asked. "The wine expert?"
"Uh-huh."
"I wondered about him."
"How did you hear about him?" Frade said.
"Subinspector Nowicki heard he was here. He asked me what to do. I asked Subinspector Nervo, who asked Colonel Martin, who asked Inspector General Nervo to back off. We backed off."
"I'm glad you did."
"Before I get them in here, I want to make it clear that I don't want Moller to know that the wine expert is anything but a wine expert, or that I put him--he's using the name Fischer; his real name is Frogger--together with Kortig."
"That's presuming your man knows Kortig, right?" Peralta asked.
"What if your man, the one you trust, knows Kortig as a goddamn Nazi?" Nowicki asked.
"That's a possibility," Frade admitted. "If that happens, I'll turn both Moller and Kortig over to you and Rodriguez."
"Clete, you better make sure they understand that was a joke," Madison R. Sawyer III said. It was the first time he'd opened his mouth.
Frade met Sawyer's eyes. "It wasn't a joke, Captain Sawyer."
"But they have their wives and children . . ."
"Nothing will happen to the wives and children."
"Jesus Christ, Clete!"
"Enrico, go get Kortig. And, Stein, you go get Fischer."
"Clete, I can't believe you're serious," Sawyer said.
"I have heard your comments, Captain Sawyer. Don't question any decision I make, or order I give, ever again."
Sawyer looked at him incredulously.
"The answer I anticipate, Captain, is, 'Yes, sir. I understand, sir.' "
After a long moment, Sawyer exhaled audibly, then said, "Yes, sir. I understand, sir."
Fischer came into the bar first.
He looked curious but not concerned.
"Gentlemen, this is Senor Fischer," Clete said, "who came all the way from South Africa to help us improve our grapes."
The handshaking took about a minute.
"A little grape for the grape expert?" Clete asked, holding up a bottle.
"I could use one," Fischer said. "I have had a hard day."
Rodriguez led Kortig into the room a minute later.
Neither German could conceal his surprise.
"Ach, du lieber Gott!" Fischer said softly.
"Willi," Kortig said, "we heard you were captured in North Africa!"
"I gather introductions are not necessary," Clete said.
Both Germans turned to look at Frade.
"Colonel Frogger, I presume you are prepared to vouch for Colonel Niedermeyer?"
"Absolutely! Absolutely!"
"And you would say that Colonel Niedermeyer knows that Valkyrie means more than some oversexed woman on a horse?"
"Major Frade," Niedermeyer said, "Colonel Frogger has been part of Valkyrie from the beginning."
"Sorry, Nowicki," Frade said. "It doesn't look as if you're going to get to shoot him."
Peralta chuckled.
"From this moment, Captain Sawyer," Clete said, "while he has the freedom of the compound, I want someone watching Moller twenty-four hours a day. If he tries to escape, kill him. And tell him if his wife tries to escape, we'll kill both of them."
"Yes, sir," Sawyer said.
XV.
[ONE].
Calle Talcahuano 207
Buenos Aires, Argentina
1020 4 October 1943
When SS-Brigadefuhrer Ritter Manfred von Deitzberg had telephoned the German Embassy almost immediately after stepping ashore from the motor vessel Ciudad de Cadiz in Buenos Aires, he asked for "Commercial Counselor" Cranz.
"One moment, please, Senor."
A moment later, a voice announced somewhat arrogantly: "Herr Cranz is not available."
"With whom have I the pleasure of speaking?"
"This is Assistant Commercial Counselor Raschner."
"He's not available, Raschner, or he can't be troubled talking to ordinary people?" von Deitzberg snapped.