“If my sister-in-law, Señorita Isabela, were—how do I phrase this delicately?—satisfied with her relationship with you . . .”
“Screw you, Hansel.”
“Precisely. Congratulations, you picked up on that right away. If El Bitcho, for reasons I won’t—being an officer and a gentleman—discuss was really pleased with you—more precisely, satisfied after you . . .”
“Enough, Hansel!” von und zu Aschenburg said, but he was smiling.
“. . . and wanted to show her appreciation, you, being the silver-tongued devil you are, you could probably talk her into convincing her mother, who is on the board of South American Airways, that it would be the courteous thing to show a Lufthansa pilot the newest addition to their fleet.”
“Why do I think you’re serious?”
“I am.”
“What about Frade?”
“He’s not here. He’s got one of them in Chile . . .”
“They’ve got more than one?”
Von Wachtstein nodded, held up three fingers, and continued: “. . . teaching his pilots how to land in Santiago. He won’t be back for a couple of days. Not that I think he’d really mind you getting a good look. He loves to show off that airplane. The other two are here. SAA pilots and flight engineers are getting checked out on them, usually by flying them back and forth to Montevideo. I think if El Bitcho talks nice to her mommy, Claudia can arrange a tour of one of them for you.”
“That woman is a shark. The last time I had teeth marks on my neck for a week!”
“My mother-in-law did that to you?” von Wachtstein said, feigning shock.
“Your sister-in-law, Hansel.”
“I don’t know about a shark, but Isabela does remind me of a piranha.”
“A what?”
“A small fish,” von Wachtstein said, and held his hands about ten inches apart to show the size. “Native to this part of the world. Razor teeth, powerful jaws. They swim in . . . What do you say for fish when you mean packs, herds?”
Von und zu Aschenburg shrugged to show he had no idea.
“Anyway,” von Wachtstein went on, “they have a show for tourists on the River Piranha. They kill a small pig and throw it in the water. The piranhas appear in less than a minute. Lots of them. When they pull the pig out a couple of minutes later, there’s nothing but the skeleton.”
“You actually saw this, or it is a quaint folk legend?”
“I saw it on my honeymoon. Alicia wanted me to see it. She said that would happen to me if I ever even thought of hiding my sausage in the wrong—anyone’s but hers, in other words—hard roll.”
“And are you a faithful husband, Hansel?”
Von Wachtstein nodded.
“Because of this carnivorous fish?”
“Because I’m in love, believe it or not. That’s why I want to live through this war.”
Von und zu Aschenburg met his eyes, then fell silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Well, let’s go pay my respects to Señorita Piranha. I really want to take a look at that Constellation. You sure it won’t get you in trouble here? Sucking up to the American enemy?”
“Not at all. It will be in the line of duty. Cranz will be pleased.”
“Why?”
“It will be what is known as reconnoitering the enemy. I’m supposed to come up with a plan to make sure that SAA does not establish a one-stop service to Lisbon.”
“How are you supposed to do that?”