"Whichever you prefer," Humberto said.
"Thanks, Humberto," Clete said. "For everything."
Humberto hugged him.
"I will pray for your safe return," he said.
Clete looked at Peter.
"What are you going to tell Alicia about-what's her name? Inge."
"You sonofabitch!" Major Freiherr Hans-Peter von Wachtstein said.
At the Central Train Station, Clete called Tony from a pay telephone, gave him that number, and ordered him to call him as soon as possible from any other telephone.
"And bring paper and a pencil with you. You're going to have to write down my message."
It took Tony fifteen minutes to call back. By that time four indignant peo-ple were lined up to use the pay telephone, and there were only six minutes left to board the train.
"Sorry," Tony began. "I had a hell of a time finding a phone."
"I want you to send this off to Washington as soon as possible. Can you drive out there tonight?"
"Sure."
"You ready?"
"Shoot."
"This
goes as Lindbergh."
"Got it."
"One. Galahad confirms absolutely Lindbergh exists."
"No shit?"
"Two. Montevideo operation run by SS Major Werner von Tresmarck, se-curity officer of German Embassy."
"You're going to have to spell that for me."
"Whiskey Easy Roger Nan Easy Roger," Clete spelled quickly. "You know how to spell 'von.' Tango Roger Easy Sugar Mike Able Roger Charley King."
"Got it."
"And when you get to the estancia, stay there and make sure Dave doesn't go anywhere until I get back."
"Where are you going?"
Clete hung up without replying and ran to catch the train.
When Antonio informed Clete that he "had been packed," it didn't enter Clete's mind to see what had actually gone into his suitcase. Antonio would certainly, he reasoned, include his toilet kit, plus several changes of underwear, a couple of fresh shirts, maybe a spare jacket and trousers, and whatever else necessary for a three- or four-day trip.
Thus, when he went into his compartment aboard the train, he was a little surprised-and a little amused-to see that Antonio's idea of clothing for a trip of no more than four days filled two large suitcases. The identical saddle leather suitcases were nearly new. He was not surprised to see a burnished spot on both cases where he could just make out what was left of his father's initials.
They had two adjoining compartments in what Clete recognized from movies as the English version of an American Pullman car. He remembered his father telling him that the English had built Argentina's railroads. He wondered idly if this car was made here from an English pattern or imported.