"How much trouble will it be to get my car from the garage?" Senor Schenck asked.
"I can have it at the door in five minutes," the manager said.
"Oh, good!" Evita said. "I'm so anxious to see this place!"
"I'd like to clean up a little . . . ," Peron said.
"Me too," Evita said happily. "My back teeth are floating, as they say."
Peron looked as if he wanted to choke her.
And she's not talking in that stilted language anymore. I suppose she figures she doesn't have to impress me with her culture now that we're all such good friends.
When Senor and Senora Schenck got to their room, she beat him into the bathroom and he waited impatiently for her to come out.
"Teeth no longer floating?" he asked sarcastically as he brushed past her.
"What does he see in her?" Inge said, ignoring it.
"I don't know, but I'm glad he sees whatever it is. With a little luck, I'll have his signature on that deed this afternoon--because of her."
When he came out of the bathroom, he went directly to the telephone and, consulting a business card, asked the hotel operator to get him a number.
"Senor Suarez, this is Jorge Schenck," von Deitzberg said. "I managed to convince el Coronel Peron to have a look at the property. I have reason to believe he'll like it. I'd like to strike, so to speak, when the iron is hot, by which I mean later today.
"What do you mean it'll take longer than that?"
Senor Suarez took forever to explain the bothersome details of completing such a transaction, the Argentine bureaucracy being what it was.
"Bribe somebody," von Deitzberg snapped. "Now, this is what I want done. I want you to be having a drink in the Edelweiss Hotel bar from five o'clock--make that half past four--until I get there.
"I will express surprise at seeing you, and I will tell you that I have been showing Peron Estancia Puesta de Sol, and one thing will lead to another and you will ultimately say something to the effect that there's no reason the deed can't be transferred right there in the bar if that's what he wishes to do."
Senor Suarez asked how sure could Senor Schenck be that Peron would want to do that.
"Trust me, he'll want to do that," von Deitzberg said. "You just be in the bar when we walk in."
[EIGHT].
El Plumerillo Airfield
Mendoza, Mendoza Province, Argentina
1505 16 October 1943
The first person to stand in the open door of SAA's Ciudad de San Miguel was Inspector General Santiago Nervo of the Gendarmeria Nacional. He took a quick look around, which caused the dozen gendarmes from the truck to pop to attention, then got off the airplane.
Next to get off, surprising Clete, was Capitan Roberto Lauffer, and then, surprising Clete even more, the president of the Argentine Republic appeared in the door and got off. He was followed by Subinspector General Nolasco, el Coronel Martin, and the Reverend Kurt Welner, S.J.
What the hell is he doing here?
Finally, two men in the powder blue uniforms of SAA pilots came through the door. One of them was Capitan Gonzalo Delgano. The other--obviously Delgano's copilot--he recognized but could not remember his name.
"Cletus, what did you do to your head?" Rawson asked, even before saying "hello" or embracing him.
"Like President George Washington, Senor Presidente, I cannot tell a lie. I passed out as Dorotea was giving birth to our son, and cracked my head on the floor."
He realized that was the first time he had ever used the term "our son," and the sound of it produced a strong and unexpected reaction: His eyes watered and his throat tightened.
"When did that happen?" Rawson asked. "The baby. Not your head."
"Just after noon, sir," Clete said.
"Well, then, I will be able to say I was among the first to be able to offer my congratulations. How is Dorotea?"
"Very well, sir. Thank you."
"And I will have the happy privilege of baptizing your son," Father Welner said.
First things first, right? Sprinkle my son with water before some heathen Episcopalian can get to him?
"I see the Pipers have yet to arrive," Rawson said.
"Pipers"? What Pipers?
"Excuse me, sir?"
"They should be here by now," Rawson said. "I ordered el Coronel Pereitra to send them immediately."
Rawson saw the confusion on Clete's face and explained to him what had happened, what orders he had issued, and what he hoped would happen.
The Pipers had not arrived when he had finished.
"Well, I don't intend to stand around here waiting for them; they'll arrive sooner or later," Rawson said. "What I think we should do now is send Subinspector General Nolasco to San Martin to deal with el Coronel Peron . . ." He stopped when he saw the look on Nervo's face.
"If, of course," Rawson said, more than a little sarcastically, "this meets with General Nervo's approval. Cletus, you would be surprised at how helpful General Nervo has been. One would think he went to the Military Academy and into the army instead of becoming a simple policeman."
"Actually, mi general," Nervo said. "I thought about going to the Military Academy, but I couldn't. My parents were married."
Father Welner, Subinspector General Nolasco, Capitans Lauffer and Delgano, and the copilot whose name--Garcia--Clete suddenly remembered looked horrified.
There was a hushed silence, broken only when Cletus chuckled and then laughed out loud.
"You think that's funny, Cletus?" Rawson asked, as if torn between indignation and curiosity.
"General, it's what reserve Marine Corps officers, like me, who didn't go to the Naval Academy, say to regular Marine Corps officers, who did."
"Mi general," Nervo said, "I should not have said that. It just slipped out. Apparently, I cannot handle my newfound freedom to say what I'm thinking without considering the consequences."
"General Nervo believes he is about to be thrown into the River Plate with his hands tied behind him," Rawson said. "And if he ever says something like that again to me, I'll throw him into the River Plate myself."
"And I will help, mi general," Capitan Lauffer said.
"Bobby," Frade said. "We call people like you 'ring knockers.' "
"A reference, no doubt, to a wedding ring?" Rawson asked.
"No. Naval Academy graduates wear Naval Academy rings. When someone who is not 'Regular Navy' says something they don't like, they knock their rings on a table, or whatever, to remind us amateurs that we are challenging regulars who went to the Academy and therefore know everything about everything and are never wrong."
"How interesting," Rawson said. "'People like you' would obviously include me. Your father, Cletus, had the odd notion that the Ejercito Argentino was making a serious mistake in restricting the officer corps to graduates of the Military Academy."
"Well, I have to agree with that, sir," Cletus said.
"Perhaps we are," Rawson said, his tone suggesting he didn't believe that for a moment. "So tell me, General Nervo, what--as an amateur--it is that you find wrong with my idea of sending Subinspector General Nolasco to San Martin to deal with Peron?"
"Sir, I don't think we should arrest Peron until we know more about his involvement in this," Nervo said. "Send Nolasco to San Martin to locate Peron and keep an eye on him, but not arrest him until he hears from you."
Rawson nodded but did not reply.
"General," Clete said. "We don't know if the Pipers will arrive--"
"I ordered el Coronel Pereitra to send them," Rawson said impatiently, then heard what he had said. "And if they don't?"
Clete said, "Even if the Husares de Pueyrredon's Pipers do arrive, we won't know if they'll work until I have a look at them. And without the Pipers, we're just pissing in the wind. Which means we're going to have to think of something else, like commandeering a couple of those."
He pointed across the airfield to hangars in which at least four privately owned Piper Cubs were parked.
"And what is your suggestion in that regard, Cletus?" Rawson asked.
"Send the general over there with me to commandeer those airplanes."
"And what would you suggest regarding el Coronel Peron?"
"I agree with the general, sir. Don't arrest my beloved Tio Juan until we know more than we do."
"All right," Rawson said. "Here's what we are going to do: Subinspector General Nolasco, get back on the airplane. Find and keep your eye on el Coronel Peron in San Martin, but take no action until you hear from either General Nervo or me."
"Yes, sir."
"Capitan Lauffer, you, General Nervo, Coronel Martin, and I are going to walk over there with Don Cletus to select which of those airplanes are to be commandeered into the service of the Argentine Republic."
"Yes, sir."
[NINE].
Estancia Don Guillermo
Km 40.4, Provincial Route 60
Mendoza Province, Argentina
1525 16 October 1943
Hauptsturmfuhrer Sepp Schafer--on detached service from the Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler--had his Schmeisser at the ready as he moved as rapidly and as quietly as he could down the area between long rows of grapevines.
He and the five men following him were wearing brown coveralls over their black SS uniforms. It was Hauptsturmfuhrer Schafer's intention, should anything go wrong--and it looked at this moment as if that had happened--to shed the coveralls, which would permit him and his men to claim the protection of the Geneva Convention and POW status.
He wasn't sure if that was the case.
How did the Geneva Convention feel about armed soldiers of a belligerent power being discovered--possibly after having taken some lives--roaming around a neutral country?
At the very least, Schafer had decided, it would buy them some time until SS-Brigadefuhrer von Deitzberg and the Argentine oberst, Schmidt, found out they had been arrested and could start working on getting them freed.
He could now see the end of the row of grapevines. There was nothing in it. He held up his hand for the men behind him to stop, then gestured for them to move to the left and right, into the spaces between adjacent rows of vines.
A minute later, he heard the soft chirp of a whistle, telling him that one of his men had found something.
Reminding himself that stealth was still of great importance, he moved quietly through two rows to the left.
One of his troopers pointed to the end of that row.