“You are going to tell us what’s going on, right?” Schultz said.
Clete looked at Schultz.
Maybe, after I figure out how I’m going to explain everything to everybody.
Right now, I don’t have a clue how to do that.
“I’m going to wait until everybody is here,” Frade said, stalling. “I don’t want to do it twice.”
Someone else almost immediately appeared at the dining room door, but it wasn’t whom Clete expected. It was a svelte, formidable woman in her mid-fifties who had gray-flecked, luxuriant black hair and wore a simple black dress with a triple strand of pearls.
Shit!
I should have realized that Claudia was likely to show up!
But why the hell couldn’t she have invited herself for a late lunch? By then, I’d be out of here.
And how am I going to explain any of this to her?
He said: “Señora Claudia Carzino-Cormano! What an unexpected pleasure.”
Claudia went to Dorotea and embraced her affectionately. Then she looked at Cletus: “I’ve got a message for you, Señor Sarcastic. Can I give it to you now?”
“Whisper it in my
ear,” Clete said.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked.
He nodded.
She went to him.
“I probably shouldn’t kiss you,” she said, “but I will. I missed you at the airport.”
Then she kissed him and, covering her mouth with her hand, whispered in his ear.
He immediately parroted it out loud.
“ ‘Von Wachtstein’s on his way in his Storch to meet von Deitzberg at the airport in Carrasco,’” he said, then added rhetorically: “I wonder what the hell that’s about? Von Deitzberg went over there on the SAA flight yesterday afternoon. You’d think he would come back that way.”
“Unless,” Dorotea offered, “he wanted to take advantage of Peter’s diplomatic immunity and have him fly something back here he didn’t want to risk carrying through customs.”
“Yeah,” Clete said, accepting that immediately. He gave Dorotea a thumbs-up.
She smiled and shrugged as if to say, Well, what did you expect?
“That’s all Peter said to tell you,” Claudia said, then went to the priests, kissing Welner first.
“I passed a Little Sisters of the Poor bus on the way over here,” Claudia said. “That yours, Father Kurt?”
He nodded.
“It’s nice to see you again, Father,” she said, offering her hand to the bona fide Jesuit. Then she turned to Niedermeyer. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name, Father.”
“His name is Niedermeyer,” Clete said. “He’s not a priest.”
“What did you say?” Claudia asked, but before Clete could respond, she looked at Welner.