Forster did as he was ordered. He looked around the lobby, saw von Deitzberg, and then when he was sure von Deitzberg had seen him, turned and walked back to the elevator.
Von Deitzberg waited several minutes, then took the stairway to the basement garage. Forster was nowhere in sight, but a minute later the headlights of a small Opel sedan flashed. Von Deitzberg walked to the car and got in.
“You took long enough to get here, Forster,” von Deitzberg greeted him.
“Herr Brigadeführer—”
“Do not use my name or rank,” von Deitzberg interrupted him.
“—I had to go to my home to get my personal car, sir.”
“I am here on a confidential mission for Reichsführer-SS Himmler,” von Deitzberg said. “I am using the name and identity credentials of an ethnic Argentine named Jorge Schenck. I will use that name if I ever have to contact you again. You will tell no one I am here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, where is von Tresmarck?”
“In Paraguay, sir.”
Von Deitzberg thought: What the hell is that degenerate sonofabitch up to? Then he said: “What’s he doing in Paraguay?”
“It was in my report to the Reichsführer-SS, sir. Von Tresmarck said he was on a mission for you.”
“I didn’t see your report,” von Deitzberg said. “I was on another mission for the Reichsführer-SS.”
Actually, I was on a gottverdammt submarine.
“Actually, Konrad”—This should impress you, you jackass—“this mission is of such importance and the necessity for secrecy is such that I was transported to Argentina by U-boat. Obviously, I was unable to get your reports while aboard the submarine.”
“I understand, Herr Br . . . Schenck, you said?”
“Schenck, Jorge Schenck,” von Deitzberg furnished. “Don’t forget that again!”
He let that sink in, then asked, “Von Tresmarck told you nothing more specific than he was on a mission for me?”
“That was all he told me, sir.”
“Good,” von Deitzberg said. “Sometimes he talks too much. The question then becomes: ‘Which Paraguayan mission is he working on?’ Did he travel alone?”
No, of course he didn’t. And he and that goddamned whore I had marry him aren’t anywhere near Paraguay. They, and God alone knows how much of the confidential special fund’s assets, are in Brazil or Bolivia.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then Frau von Tresmarck is here?”
“Yes, sir, as far as I know.”
“As far as you know? She either is or she is not. Which is it?”
“I saw Frau von Tresmarck yesterday, sir. Sturmbannführer von Tresmarck went to Paraguay twelve days ago, sir.”
Inge didn’t go?
Then what’s he up to in Paraguay?
A little vacation with a homosexual lover?
“I’m sure she will be able to shed some light on the situation,” von Deitzberg said. “What I want you to do now, Forster, is go to her home. Tell her I am here, impress upon her the need for secrecy, and then tell her to drive here to the casino garage, park her car, and then go to suite 308.”