“I don’t think I understand, Herr Oberst.”
Grüner didn’t respond to the question.
“The new replenishment vessel is here,” he went on. “At anchor in the Bay of Samborombón, within Argentina’s territorial waters. It arrived several days ago.”
“Herr Oberst, you’re moving too fast for me.”
“Bear with me. It would be ideal for us if Lieutenant Frade is in fact an OSS agent. As I said, I doubt that is the case. But if he were, he would get on with his mission of trying to cause damage to our U-boat replenishment vessel. That attempt would be doomed to failure. The ship is thirty-odd kilometers offshore; and it is moved five or ten kilometers every day or so. It is armed. It is highly unlikely that Lieutenant Frade could even find it, and no way that he and his men could come close to it.”
Peter was now wholly confused.
“Unfortunately, I’m afraid, the impossibility of harming our ship will be evident to him. They already lost one team trying to damage the last one. So he won’t try it. And that leaves him in place to do what I believe he is really here for, to influence his father.”
“May I ask a question?”
“Certainly.”
“Why don’t the Americans simply sink our boat with their Navy?”
“Our ship,” Grüner corrected him. “For propaganda purposes. When the British damaged the Graf Spee, they were very careful not to violate Uruguayan and Argentinean territorial waters or Uruguayan and Argentinean neutrality. This paid off in enormous goodwill for them. We Germans were regarded as the aggressors, the violators of neutrality. The Americans follow the English lead in most things diplomatic; they are not going to ignore that lesson of history.”
“I understand,” Peter said. “I understand that, Sir. But…”
“How do we remove Lieutenant Frade?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Speaking hypothetically, Peter. Perhaps a tragic auto accident…Or burglars might kill him in his home…”
Good God, he is talking about having Clete assassinated!
“Could that be accomplished without causing suspicion?”
“I’m sure it could be,” Grüner said matter-of-factly. “Argentina has a criminal element who could teach our criminals a lesson or two. And they relish violence. But hypothetically speaking, of course, a lack of public interest in Lieutenant Frade’s removal might not be as much in Germany’s interest as widespread public attention.”
Grüner looked at Peter for his reaction, was apparently satisfied with what he saw, and went on: “For example, if on the day after tomorrow—the day after the funeral of his heroic cousin, Hauptmann Duarte—Lieutenant Frade were found in his bed, with his throat cut, with ‘death to godless communists and their allies’ written in soap on his dresser mirror…”
You’re not just talking assassination, Herr Oberst. Murder. You’re talking about brutal, cold-blooded murder!
“…that would certainly get in the newspapers. Even in the Gottverdammte Buenos Aires Herald,” Grüner said.
“Oberst Frade won’t believe it.”
“It doesn’t matter if he does or not.”
He looked at Peter, and Peter understood that he expected approval, perhaps even enthusiastic approval.
“May I ask two questions, Herr Oberst?”
“Of course.”
“Hypothetically, of course.”
“Of course.”
“If this were to happen, wouldn’t Oberst Frade suspect something?”
“He is a very intelligent man. I’m sure he would.”