“Let’s go find ourselves a clean stall in here and talk about that,” Frade said.
“I really believe, Humberto, that El Colonel Martín and I have reached an accommodation, ” Frade said, his arms crossed and leaning with his back against the wooden wall of an empty stall.
“How so?”
“This is my opinion, okay? Backed up by what’s happened, or hasn’t happened.”
“Understood.”
“I was sent down here—Martín has figured this out—to stop the Germans from replenishing their submarines from quote neutral unquote ships in the Río de la Plata. I’ve done that. The Reine de la Mer was sunk by an American submarine. Martín—and everybody else, including General Ramírez—knows that, and that I had something to do with it.
“Sinking the Reine de la Mer proved that we know what they were doing, know the identity of the ships that are violating Argentine neutrality, and are prepared to send submarines—or whatever else it takes—into the Río de la Plata to stop it. Argentineans, no matter how much they dislike Americans or love Der Führer, do not want naval battles in the Río de la Plata. Somebody high up in the government has told the Germans to do their submarine replenishment somewhere else. And that’s what they’re doing. They send supply U-boats from Europe and they rendezvous on the high seas.”
He waited a moment, and after Duarte nodded his understanding, went on: “I know—but they don’t know I know—that my aircraft mechanic, his name is Carlos Olivo, works for Martín. So Martín knows that every time our radar picks up something interesting, a ship we don’t know about, I get in the Lodestar and fly out over the muddy waters of the Río de la Plata and have a look at it. If it’s suspicious, Martín gets an ‘anonymous’ call. Martín knows where it comes from. I keep my people on the estancia, and Martín doesn’t come onto the estancia looking for them or the radar, or ask where I’ve been in the Lodestar.”
“You seem pretty sure of all this,” Duarte said.
“I am. Now, while I have no idea why President Roosevelt wants an airline down here—”
“Roosevelt? That’s where this idea comes from?”
Frade nodded. “There’s all sorts of possibilities, one being that he wants to stick it to Juan Trippe of Pa
nagra, but I just don’t know. Anyway, it has nothing to do with what I’m doing for the OSS. I’ll see to that.
“Martín, being Martín, will suspect otherwise. I would, in his shoes. So what I have to do is convince him that I’m as pure as the driven snow. To that end, the pilots of this airline will be Argentine. The whole operation, except for maintenance supervisors and some American airline pilots who will come down here to train the pilots and maintenance people and set it up, will be Argentine. And the cherry on the cake will be that my Tío Juan will be one of the investors and play an active role. I don’t know if he’ll be suspicious or not.”
“You can count on it that he will, Cletus.”
“Then good. Let him snoop wherever he wants to. There will be nothing for him to find, because there will be nothing.”
“You said you want Perón to be one of the investors.”
“Right.”
“Before we get to who the others might be, where is Perón going to get the money to invest? He doesn’t have anything but his army pay.”
“The Anglo-Argentine Bank is going to loan it to him. When I talk to the sonofabitch, I’m going to tell him that I’m absolutely confident that the Anglo-Argentine Bank would be delighted to loan an important man, such as himself, whatever he needed for this business venture.”
“The board won’t like that,” Duarte said. “Where’s the collateral?”
“You’ve just been telling me how wise I would be to be nice to the sonofabitch, that he’s destined to become really important. Tell the board the same thing.”
“If you’re going to be in business with him, it might be a good idea for you to stop referring to him as ‘the sonofabitch.’ ”
“Yes or no? If necessary, I’ll guarantee his loan, but I’d rather he thought I had nothing to do with it. And that Martín learned that, too.”
Duarte didn’t reply directly. “And the other investors?”
“Why do I think you’re not slobbering at the mouth to get a piece of my get-rich-quick scheme?”
“Because I’m a banker, and I recognize a risky venture when I see one. Who else, Cletus?”
“My father-in-law, for one. Señora Carzino-Cormano, for another, and possibly even—I don’t know if she has any money—Señora Alicia Carzino-Cormano de von Wachtstein.”
“Alicia? Because of her husband?”
“How could I possibly be doing something anti-German with my airline if the wife of Major Freiherr Hans-Peter von Wachtstein is a major investor? I suspect the Germans would tell him to get as close to it as he could.”