“Who is Whatsisname??
??
“I think of him as the Minister Without Portfolio,” Karl said. “He and Canaris are very close.”
And I shouldn’t have even said that.
Karl reached out and touched the shoulder of a passing waiter. “We will be joined by a senior officer,” he said. “We will require a table.”
The waiter looked at him dubiously. “That may be difficult, Mein Herr.”
“Arrange for it,” Karl ordered coldly.
“I will see what I can do, of course,” the waiter said, and walked away.
Von Wachtstein laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“He wanted you to give him money.”
“To hell with him.”
“If you had given him money, he would have scorned you. Now he respects you. He understands that you are speaking for the senior officer, not sucking up to him.”
“Is that what happened?”
“Your father is a senior officer, you should know the drill.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Is that what it is? Is that why I like von Wachtstein? Because we are both children of senior officers?
The waiter unsmilingly provided a banquette in the rear of the bar. Three minutes later, Canaris and von und zu Waching entered the room, standing for a moment just inside so their eyes could adjust to the darkness. As soon as the waiter saw them, he approached them and, now smiling broadly, led them to the table.
Canaris impatiently waved the two young officers back into their seats after they’d popped to attention. “My name is Canaris, Major von Wachtstein,” he said, offering his hand.
“I am honored to make your acquaintance, Herr Admiral,” Peter said.
“Fregattenkapitän von und zu Waching,” Canaris said, pointing to him.
Von und zu Waching offered Peter his hand but said nothing, then offered his hand to Boltitz and said nothing to him either.
“Good evening, Sir,” Boltitz said.
“We’ll have whatever these gentlemen were drinking,” Canaris said to the waiter.
“Immediately, Herr Admiral,” the waiter said.
“I understand you had a difficult time at Samborombón Bay, Major,” Canaris said, “the details of which I am sure will be in Boltitz’s report. I wanted to talk to you about the Graf Spee internees.”
Gott! Boltitz thought, chagrined. I didn’t ask von Wachtstein one question about the internees!
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about them, Herr Admiral,” Peter said.
Canaris ignored him. “For one thing, despite repeated requests, the late Oberst Grüner was until very recently unable to provide aerial photographs of the place of their internment. And they weren’t very good photographs.”
“Villa General Belgrano was overcast, and it was raining the day they were taken, Sir,” Peter said, adding, “and with a Leica, not an aerial camera.”