"What did you do, get him one to replace the one he put on the bottom of Samboromb¢n Bay?"
Graham happened to glance at Stevenson. From his face, it was obvious that he was hearing a number of things for the first time.
"If I answer that so subtly phrased question, will you answer a question for me?'
"That depends on how subtle your answer is," Leibermann said, smiling at him.
"Yes. We got him another airplane. He picked it up in Brazil, and had aboard another OSS team. It was supposed to be a small twin, but it turned out to be a Lockheed airliner, a Lodestar. Since that was the first time Frade has flown a Lodestar, so far as I know, I have been naturally wondering if he and the people with him made it all right."
"That wasn't evasive at all, Colonel," Leibermann said. "So I will reply in kind. Frade landed at his estancia with the Lockheed. They unloaded five peo-ple-almost certainly your OSS team-and some crates, and then took off again. I don't know where to."
"How reliable is that information?" Graham asked.
"The man I have on Frade's estancia is pretty reliable."
"A minute ago, Milton, when I asked about an airplane, you weren't ex-actly truthful, were you?" Graham said.
"I was obfuscatory," Leibermann said. "The first time you asked me about an airplane was before I knew you had really stopped playing games. So I was obfuscatory."
"Do the names 'Galahad' and 'Cavalry' mean anything to you, Milton?"
"These sources? Code names for sources?" Leibermann asked, as if he didn't expect a reply. "You got them from Frade?" Now he waited for Graham to nod. "I haven't a clue about who Galahad might be," he went on. "But Cav-alry might be Martin. You know who I mean, the BIS guy?"
Graham nodded again.
"I'll ask around, if it's important to you," Leibermann said. "Is it impor-tant?"
"Important enough for me to come down here," Graham said. "Which is the next thing on my agenda. I need to get to Buenos Aires. How's the best way?"
"The best way is to catch the eight-o'clock boat ferry in the morning. That'll put you into Buenos Aires a little before two."
"That's not quick enough," Graham said.
"You're out of luck," Leibermann said. "There's no other way tonight. You missed the boat, to coin a phrase."
"What about driving?"
"There's a ferry across the border into Entre Rios Province," Stevenson said. "But it stops running at ten. I'm afraid Mr. Leibermann is right, Colonel. You're stuck here for the night."
Graham shrugged.
"Colonel, what about Ettinger's body?" Stevenson asked.
"What about it?"
"What do we do with it when the police release it?"
God forgive me, that subject never entered my mind.
"Ettinger was here as a private citizen. What happens when a private citi-zen dies down here?"
"I really don't know," Stevenson said. "I'll have to ask one of the diplo-mats, the Consul General."
"No. You go to the Ambassador. You tell them Ettinger died in the service of his country. I want him put in a casket with a flag on it, and I want him taken to Porto Alegre, Brazil, escorted by the Military Attach‚ and a couple of Marines from the Embassy Guard. They can fly him home from there. You tell the Ambassador I said that's what going to happen, and all you want from him is to tell his people to do it."
"Yes, Sir."
"Do it now, tonight," Graham said. "And send off a message to Oracle- right now-so somebody can let his mother know what happened."