‘‘I was thinking of Major von Wachtstein,’’ Grüner said. ‘‘I think we will need him. For one thing, he is very friendly with the man who runs the Anglo-Argentine bank. For another, his Spanish is impeccable.’’
‘‘Can he be trusted?’’ Goltz asked.
‘‘I would say so, Josef,’’ Gradny-Sawz said. ‘‘He is a fine young officer of an old Pomeranian family. He received the Knights Cross of the Iron Cross from the hands of the Führer himself.’’
‘‘Graf von Lutzenberger?’’
‘‘He is a trustworthy officer,’’ von Lutzenberger said. ‘‘And I agree with Grüner. I’m sure we’ll need him, if we’re to be involved in a matter of this kind. He flies our Storch, and I can see where—’’
‘‘All right, then,’’ Goltz cut him off. ‘‘You may bring him into this, Graf von Lutzenberger.’’
‘‘I don’t mean to challenge your authority in any way, but I would suggest that Oberst Grüner deal with Major von Wachtstein. For one thing, they are both soldiers.’’
That distances me from Peter, and if he learns anything from Grüner, he’ll tell me.
‘‘Yes, perhaps it would be best if he did,’’ Goltz said. He stood up.
‘‘Thank you for your time, gentlemen,’’ he said. ‘‘Have a pleasant weekend. I will look forward to hearing your further thoughts on this operation on Monday.’’ And then he thought of something else: ‘‘Your secretary, Graf von Lutzenberger?’’
‘‘A reliable woman. A good National Socialist.’’
‘‘We’ll need someone to keep records, of course, but someone who is absolutely trustworthy.’’
‘‘Fräulein Hässell is reliable,’’ Grüner said.
‘‘Well, then, we seem to have taken the first step in carrying out our orders, haven’t we? We have chosen the members of our team,’’ Goltz said. ‘‘Anton is going to give me a tour of the city.’’
He walked to and opened the door.
‘‘Ready, Anton?’’
‘‘At your service, Josef,’’ Gradny-Sawz said.
‘‘Oh, one more thing,’’ Goltz said, closing the door. ‘‘I made contact over the weekend with one of our agents here. He tells me that one of the OSS agents has been asking dangerous questions—the Jew, his name is Ettinger—’’ He interrupted himself to look at Grüner. ‘‘Not one of your agents, Herr Oberst. A special agent reporting directly to Reichsprotektor Himmler. His identity must remain a secret. ’’
‘‘I understand, Herr Standartenführer,’’ Grüner said. ‘‘Should I know, however, the nature of the dangerous questions?’’
‘‘In due time, Herr Oberst. Not now. For now, with great care, but as quickly as possible, I want you to eliminate Herr Ettinger. What do you know about him?’’
‘‘He’s a Spanish Jew, whose family had a branch in Berlin. He and his mother left Germany and went to the United States, where he was apparently recruited by the OSS. He came here under cover, as some sort of an oil-storage-terminal expert in the employ of Howell Petroleum. After the Reine de la Mer incident, when Frade and the other agent returned to the United States, he remained here. He has an apartment—4B—at Calle Monroe 127. . . .’’
‘‘Well, then, since you know so much about him, eliminating him shouldn’t be much of a problem, should it?’’
‘‘Would the Herr Standartenführer like to review my plans when I have made them?’’
‘‘Yes. And I’m glad you brought that up. From now on I wish to review any plans for this sort of thing.’’
‘‘Jawohl, Herr Standartenführer.’’
Goltz opened the door again and passed through it.
PART TWO
Brunner Still at Large Paris
French police said yesterday that they hunted in vain in Argentina for Alois Brunner, the most notorious Nazi war criminal still at large, after tips he had left his longtime refuge in Syria.
‘‘He’s not there, at least we didn’t see him,’’ said Gerard Bronne, head of the manhunt section of the Paris Gendarmerie after his trip to a remote region of northern Argentina near the borders of Paraguay and Brazil last month.
He told French television TF-1 he had tried to follow up reports from neighboring Uruguay that Brunner, now 83, had settled in Argentina along with other Nazi war criminals wanted by the international police agency Interpol.
Brunner, WWII deputy to fellow Austrian Adolf Eichmann, is wanted in connection with the deaths of 130,000 Jews whom he had deported to death camps during World War II (Reuters) .
Page 1
The Buenos Aires Herald, Buenos Aires, Argentina August 3, 1995
XI
[ONE] 4730 Avenida del Libertador Buenos Aires, Argentina 0925 11 April 1943
‘‘I wonder why that worries me?’’ General Arturo Rawson asked softly of his aide-de-camp, Capitán Roberto Lauffer, who sat beside him in the rear seat of Rawson’s personal Packard. Both were in civilian clothing.
Rawson pointed at the official Mercedes-Benz of General Pedro P. Ramírez, which was parked at the curb in front of the Frade guest house.
‘‘Interesting,’’ Lauffer said.
‘‘I better go in with you.’’
The driver, a sargento, also in civilian clothing, pulled up behind the Mercedes, stopped, and ran quickly around the front of the Packard to open Rawson’s door.
By the time they reached the gate in the high fence, a maid had come quickly from inside the house to open it for them.
‘‘El Coronel Perón asks that you join him for coffee in the sitting,’’ she said, and then trotted ahead of them to hold open the door to the house.
The maid, trotting ahead of them again through the foyer, knocked politely at the door to the sitting, but pulled it open before there was time for a reply to her knock.
Juan Domingo Perón, wearing a tweed jacket with an open-collared shirt, and Ramírez, in uniform, were seated side by side in identical armchairs drinking coffee. Mayor Pedro V. Querro, Ramírez’s diminutive aide-de-camp, perched on the cushions of a matching couch, his feet not quite reaching the floor.
‘‘Mi General,’’ Rawson said to Ramírez.
‘‘I wanted to see you, you and Juan Domingo, before you leave for the country,’’ Ramírez said.
‘‘Is everything in order, mi General?’’ Rawson asked.
‘‘It will be if you can get into Jorge’s safe before anyone else does.’’
Rawson moved his arm around the room, asking with his eyes if their conversation was likely to be overheard.
‘‘Martín had the place examined yesterday, and has had it under surveillance since then,’’ Perón said.
‘‘Claudia Carzino-Cormano told me that no one knows the combination to the safe,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘We thus have—’’
‘‘Juan Domingo tells me he finds it hard to believe that Suboficial Mayor Rodríguez does not have the combination, ’’ Ramírez interrupted.
‘‘Claudia told me she asked Rodríguez—or rather the son did, in her presence—and Rodríguez claimed he didn’t know where the combination is.’’
‘‘Juan Domingo believes he has the combination,’’ Ram írez repeated.
‘‘Where does that leave us?’’ Rawson asked.
‘‘Juan Domingo believes he can talk to Rodríguez, explain the situation.’’
‘‘I have known Rodríguez since . . . Jorge and I joined the Second Cavalry in Santa Tomé as Sub-Tenientes,’’ Per ón said. ‘‘Asking him to give the combination to me is not quite the same thing as asking him to give it to Claudia.’’
‘‘Where is Rodríguez?’’ Ramírez asked. ‘‘In the hospital? ’’
‘‘I don’t think so, mi General,’’ Lauffer said. ‘‘I’m sure he’s . . . wherever Mayor Frade is.’’
‘‘You mean in Jorge’s house on Coronel Díaz?’’ Ramírez asked.
‘‘I believe Mayor Frade is driving out to Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo today, mi General,’’ Lauffer
said.
‘‘Wonderful!’’ Ramírez said sarcastically. ‘‘And what do you think Suboficial Mayor Rodríguez would do if Mayor Frade asked him for the combination to the safe—presuming Perón is correct and Rodríguez knows it?’’
‘‘Give it to him, mi General,’’ Lauffer said. ‘‘Sir, I spent some time with them. Rodríguez has transferred his loyalty for el Coronel Frade to his son.’’
‘‘Why did Jorge’s son suddenly show up down here?’’ Perón asked. ‘‘After all these years?’’
‘‘Obviously the Americans thought he could influence his father,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘And some suspect he is an agent of the OSS.’’
‘‘Suspect?’’ Ramírez snorted. ‘‘My God! He blew up the Reine de la Mer.’’
‘‘Jorge’s son?’’ Perón asked in disbelief. Ramírez and Rawson both nodded. ‘‘And everybody knows this?’’
‘‘Everybody is pretending the Reine de la Mer was not a replenishment vessel for German submarines, which makes it easier for everybody to pretend she sank as a result of a spontaneous explosion in her fuel bunkers,’’ Ramírez said.
‘‘The Germans know better,’’ Perón said. ‘‘They know it was blown up by the United States in an outrageous violation of Argentine neutrality!’’
‘‘So, Juan Domingo, was resupplying German submarines in Argentine waters ‘an outrageous violation of Argentine neutrality,’ ’’ Rawson said.
‘‘Argentina has done no more for the Germans than the Americans did for the British,’’ Perón said. ‘‘I find it impossible to believe that Jorge had a part in this!’’
‘‘And I think, gentlemen,’’ General Ramírez said, ‘‘that the less said about the Reine de la Mer, the better.’’
Perón could not be silenced: ‘‘I refuse to believe that Jorge had any hand in sinking that ship!’’
‘‘Let me put it to you this way, Coronel,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘Before the ‘spontaneous combustion’ of the Reine de la Mer’s fuel bunkers, Jorge had an airplane . . . ‘the staggerwing, ’ you remember?’’
Perón nodded.
‘‘There were reports that such an aircraft was seen near the Reine de la Mer shortly before the explosion, and other reports that it crashed into the sea. Jorge never reported the loss of his aircraft to either the authorities or his insurance company.’’
‘‘His son could have taken it without his knowledge, stolen it!’’
‘‘For what I really hope is the last time, gentlemen, I will suggest that the less said about the Reine de la Mer, the better. I can’t think of a clearer way to say that.’’
"Sí, mi general,’’ Rawson and Perón said, almost in unison.
‘‘There is another problem with the son,’’ Perón said. ‘‘Somewhere he’s acquired the odd idea that the Germans were responsible for the death of Jorge.’’
‘‘He’s not the only one who believes that,’’ Rawson said.
‘‘Nonsense!’’ Perón said.
‘‘And there is one other problem vis-à-vis Jorge’s safe,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘Claudia tells me the money’s in there, too.’’
‘‘What money?’’ Perón asked.
‘‘The money which will ensure the success of OUTLINE BLUE would be a polite way to phrase it,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘The funds to bribe certain officers would be more accurate. ’’
‘‘I don’t even like the sound of the word ‘bribe,’ ’’ Perón said. ‘‘And as a practical matter . . .’’
‘‘As a practical matter, Juan Domingo,’’ Ramírez said, ‘‘our first consideration is to take power bloodlessly. We’ve all been over this. A vote was taken by the Executive Committee of the G.O.U. Certain payments will have to be made. In cash. For several months, we have been gathering the necessary funds and placing them in Jorge’s hands.’’
‘‘At the time,’’ Rawson said, ‘‘it seemed the obvious way to handle it, and not only because three-quarters of the money raised was from Jorge. We had no idea he would be murdered.’’
‘‘And now we find ourselves begging a norteamericano OSS agent to give us our money?’’ Perón asked, his tone making it clear that he found this at least as distasteful as the subject of bribing officers.
‘‘Unless we can get into Jorge’s safe before he does, and that seems very unlikely,’’ Ramírez said.
‘‘Perhaps Claudia can appeal to him. To carry out something his father began,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘Or we could appeal to him as an Argentine.’’
‘‘At what price?’’ Perón asked.
‘‘From what I have seen of him, I like him,’’ Ramírez said, ignoring the question. ‘‘I think he would trust Claudia Carzino-Cormano in this matter.’’
‘‘And if he doesn’t?’’ Perón asked.
Rawson shrugged.
‘‘The two of you,’’ Ramírez said, ‘‘plus Claudia Carzino-Cormano will have to meet with him. There is no other choice. If he has a price, pay it.’’
‘‘Perhaps, if—as Roberto says—Suboficial Mayor Rodr íguez is with Mayor Frade all the time, he would be helpful, ’’ Ramírez said. ‘‘I wish I could be there, but . . .’’
‘‘May I ask why you won’t be there?’’ Perón asked.
‘‘At my suggestion,’’ Rawson answered for him. ‘‘To alleviate the suspicions of Almirante Montoya that OUTLINE BLUE is about to be executed. Not that I think it will do any good.’’
‘‘Is Montoya with us or not?’’ Perón asked.
‘‘I really don’t know,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘And I really don’t think we will know until we put the plan in operation.’’
‘‘What do you think, mi General?’’
‘‘I think el Almirante will fall, very late in the game, toward the side he thinks will win,’’ Ramírez replied.
‘‘Isn’t it already very late in the game?’’ Perón asked.
Ramírez shrugged.
‘‘The other question to be decided, preferably over this weekend, is who will assume power when we have taken action,’’ Rawson said.
‘‘Presuming we have the money to take action,’’ Perón said, bitterly. ‘‘Money to bribe fellow officers! I—’’
Rawson interrupted him. ‘‘How would you like to be President, Juan Domingo?’’ he asked.
Perón’s face stiffened.
‘‘Don’t joke about something like that,’’ he said. ‘‘Someone who doesn’t know better might take you seriously. ’’
‘‘Maybe I am serious,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘It’s something to think about.’’
Perón shook his head in disbelief.
‘‘My candidate is General Rawson,’’ Ramírez said. ‘‘I have given General O’Farrell my written proxy vote.’’
‘‘I never said I wanted to be President,’’ Rawson said.
‘‘Many people, not only me, consider you to be the logical choice,’’ Ramírez said. ‘‘Now that Jorge Frade is no longer available to us.’’
‘‘Why not you, mi General?’’ Perón asked.
‘‘I do not wish to be considered. I am doing what we must do for the good of Argentina, not to assume political office,’’ Ramírez said.
‘‘For what it’s worth, the Germans would be pleased if you were to assume the presidency, mi General,’’ Perón said.
‘‘You haven’t mentioned any of this to any of your German friends, have you, Juan Domingo?’’ Rawson asked softly.
‘‘You know better than that, Arturo,’’ Perón said. ‘‘This is our business, no one else’s. Which is not to say that the Germans won’t heave a sigh of relief when we do it.’’
‘‘Why, do you think?’’ Rawson asked softly.
‘‘What’s wrong with Argentina now, what has been wrong with Argentina all along, is a lack of order, a lack of efficiency, a lack of respect for authority. The Germans understand that.’’
Rawson shrugged.
‘‘You don’t agree?’’
‘‘The means by whic
h the Germans have achieved order, efficiency, and respect for authority is more than a little frightening.’’
‘‘You were delighted when National Socialism took power, as I recall,’’ Perón said.
‘‘That was before I came to understand what Señor Hitler really had in mind for Germany.’’
‘‘You said—you gave a speech, I was there—you said ‘only Germany can stem the spreading cancer of godless communism.’ "
‘‘I think the Germans will be pleased if we succeed,’’ Ramírez said. ‘‘Because it will probably accrue to their advantage. They would rather deal with someone they can trust. And like us, they have learned one cannot trust Castillo. ’’
‘‘Is there anything wrong with that, mi General?’’ Perón asked.
‘‘Not if that’s as far as it goes,’’ Rawson said. ‘‘The only thing I can imagine worse for Argentina than Castillo staying in power is Argentina joining the Axis.’’
‘‘The Germans will win this war, Arturo,’’ Perón said firmly.
Rawson shook his head from side to side in disagreement.
‘‘Let’s not discuss that now, for God’s sake,’’ Ramírez said. ‘‘The sooner you reach Estancia Santa Catalina, the better. Call me when you learn anything.’’
[TWO] Route Nacionale Two Outside La Plata, Buenos Aires Province 1005 11 April 1943
‘‘Piss call time, Enrico,’’ Clete announced, glancing at Enrico, beside him in the front seat of the Buick.
When they left Buenos Aires it was too cold to put the Buick’s top down, and for a while Clete even turned on the heater. Clete was happy with his impulsive decision at the last minute before leaving The Museum to wear his new Stetson. His head would have been cold without it.
And also, he admitted to himself, it was somehow comforting to have something of Uncle Jim’s with him. James Fitzhugh Howell bought the white curled-brim Stetson with a rattlesnake band the morning of the day he died at the Midland Petroleum Club.
‘‘Señor?’’ Enrico said, confused.
Clete pointed out the windshield to a truck stop.
Blood and Honor Page 29
