A nattily dressed, somewhat portly man in his forties, sporting a neatly manicured full-a la Adolf Hitler-mustache jumped from behind the wheel and walked quickly to Goltz.
"Herr Standartenf?hrer, how good it is to see you!"
"Werner, how are you?" Goltz said, enthusiastically shaking his hand, then asking admiringly, "Where did you get that car?"
"Inge saw it," the portly man said, gesturing to the woman stepping out of the car. "Said it matched her hair, and absolutely had to have it."
"My dear Inge," Goltz said. "As lovely as ever!"
Christ, I know her!
"Josef, how good to see you. Welcome to Uruguay."
"May I present Major Freiherr Hans-Peter von Wachtstein?" Goltz said. "Sturmbannf?hrer von Tresmarck and his lovely bride."
"I believe," Frau von Tresmarck said coyly, "that the Major and I have met. Isn't that so, Herr Major?"
Frau von Tresmarck was a tall, slim blonde perhaps fifteen years younger than her husband.
Indeed, we have met-if memory serves, in the bar at the Hotel am Zoo- and then spent two days in the Hotel am Wansee, leaving bed only to meet the calls of nature. I returned to the Squadron with just barely enough energy to crawl into the cockpit.
"I believe we have, Frau Sturmbannf?hrer," Peter said, bobbing his head and clicking his heels. "I've been trying to recall where."
"Me too," she said. "It'll come to me, where we met."
Peter offered his hand to von Tresmarck, who smiled when he took it but looked at him oddly.
Are you aware, Herr Sturmbannf?hrer, that your wife has probably taken to bed one in four of the fighter pilots in the Luftwaffe? Is that why you're looking at me that way ?
"We have a small problem, Werner," Goltz said. "Von Wachtstein has a pouch for the Embassy, and presumably there will be another for him to take back to Buenos Aires tomorrow...."
"That shouldn't be a problem, Josef," Inge von Tresmarck said. "When we reach the house, Werner can call the Embassy and have someone come for it."
"Unfortunately, Inge," Goltz said, "arrangements have been made for von Wachtstein to stay at the Casino Hotel. He has business of his own to transact."
You either know the Gn dige Frau von Tresmarck fucks like a mink and are trying to avoid Inge and me causing a social problem, or you don't want me around with you and von Tresmarck. One or the other. Or both.
"What a pity," Inge said.
"I can take the pouch off your hands, von Wachtstein," von Tresmarck said. "And we can drop you at the Casino Hotel. It's not far from here."
"You're very kind, Herr Sturmbannf?hrer."
"And we'll work out how to deal with the outgoing pouch sometime today," Goltz said.
"I am at your orders, Herr Standartenf?hrer."
Peter took the receipt form for the pouch from his jacket pocket and gave it to von Tresmarck to sign. When he put the signed receipt in his pocket, he saw that Inge had climbed back into the car, into the rear seat.
"My dear Inge," Goltz said, "I will ride in the back with von Wachtstein."
"No, you're our honored guest," Inge said.
Von Tresmarck gave Peter another strange look as he climbed in the back with Inge.
As soon as they were moving, Inge slid forward on her seat and rested her elbows on the back of the seat between her husband and Goltz.
"I can't tell you how delighted I am to see you, Josef," she said. "Now, don't go running to the Ambassador to tell him I said this, but those Foreign Ministry people are dull, dull, dull."