2305 5 April 1943
The Cadillac turned off St. Charles and stopped while the chauffeur opened the gate. When it did, they could see lights burning behind the drapes of the library of the Howell Mansion.
"It must be the new maid," the Old Man said. "Jean-Jacques knows better than to throw money away lighting empty rooms."
"Or there may be somebody in the library," Clete said, "who's afraid of the dark."
"Somebody in the library? At this hour?" Martha asked doubtfully.
"There's a car at the curb," Clete said, gesturing toward a black Ford Fordor.
The Old Man did not follow the gesture.
"My guests park their cars inside the fence, on the drive," the Old Man said.
Jean-Jacques opened the portico door to admit them.
"Colonel Graham is in the library, Mr. Howell," he said, "with two other gentlemen."
"Is he really?" the Old Man said, and headed for the library. Clete followed him. After a moment's hesitation, Martha followed Clete.
Afterward, Clete was to remember that his reaction to the unexpected ap-pearance of Colonel Graham was curiosity. He had no concern that something might have gone wrong-much less a premonition that disaster had struck.
"Well, hello, Graham," the Old Man said. "Jean-Jacques get you everything you need?"
"Mr. Howell," Graham said. "Clete."
The Deputy D
irector for Western Hemisphere Operations of the OSS was a short, trim, tanned, barrel-chested, bald-headed man in his fifties. He was as well-tailored as Clete's grandfather and wore a neatly trimmed pencil-line mus-tache.
"A sus ¢rdenes, mi Coronel," Clete replied-"[I stand] at your orders, Colonel."-primarily to annoy the Old Man. Although his grandfather spoke fluent Spanish himself as a result of his years in Venezuela, he devoutly be-lieved the world would be a far better place if everybody spoke English.
The Old Man flashed Clete a dirty look.
"I don't believe you know my daughter-in-law," the Old Man said. "Mrs. James F. Howell. Martha, this is Colonel Graham."
"I've heard a lot about you, Colonel," Martha said, offering him her hand.
"Have you really?" Graham said, looking at the Old Man. "It's an honor to make your acquaintance, Ma'am."
"Not that you're unwelcome at any hour, of course, Graham," the Old Man said, "but curiosity..."
"I apologize for the hour," Graham said, "but it was unavoidable. I'm afraid that I'm the bearer of some very bad news."
"Is that so?"
"Clete, I have to tell you that your father is dead," Graham said.
"Oh, Clete, honey, I'm so sorry!" Martha said, and touched his cheek.
"What happened?" Clete asked after a moment.
"We don't know much, and what we do know we haven't been able to ver-ify. It seems there was a robbery attempt last night on the estancia highway. Your father resisted and was shot to death. I'm very sorry."
"What about Enrico?" Clete asked without thinking.
"Enrico?" Graham asked, confused.