Secret Honor (Honor Bound 3)

“Nor I,” Feldmarschall Keitel said.

“And that’s what I’m supposed to report to the Führer?” Bormann asked.

“I am going to tell the Führer, Martin,” Himmler said, “that in my judgment, and that of Admiral Canaris, Operation Phoenix has not been compromised, and that he no longer has to spend his valuable time thinking about it.”

“Obersturmbannführer Cranz and Korvettenkapitän Boltitz are also going to South America, presumably?”

“Only Korvettenkapitän Boltitz, Martin,” Himmler said. “And I’m going to bring Oberführer von Deitzberg back. I need both von Deitzberg and Cranz here, and I have great faith in Boltitz to continue the investigation and institute appropriate security measures in South America. Furthermore, Boltitz will have the services of Sturmbannführer Raschner, who will remain in Argentina.”

“Then that winds up our business?” Von Ribbentrop asked. It was the first time he’d spoken.

“I think so,” Himmler said, and looked around the room.

Keitel got to his feet. “I am pleased, I must say, that we are not going to have to trouble the Führer further with this.”

He picked up his field marshal’s baton, touched it to his forehead, and walked out of the room.

“I have film of the Warsaw ghetto,” Himmler said. “If anyone has time to see it—it’s about twenty minutes.”

No one had the time.

[FOUR]

Café Tortoni

Avenida de Mayo

Buenos Aires

1505 25 May 1943

“I don’t think this will take long,” Coronel Bernardo Martín said to Sargento Manuel Lascano as Lascano stopped the blue 1939 Dodge on Avenida de Mayo in front of the Café Tortoni. “Why don’t you go around the block and park across the street?”

Lascano nodded his head vigorously to indicate he understood his orders. He was still having trouble following el Coronel’s orders not to say “Sí, Señor”—much less “mi Coronel”—when they were in civilian clothing. He had tried “Sí, Señor Martín,” but Martín hadn’t liked that, either, ordering him not to use his name unless absolutely necessary.

Martín sensed Lascano’s discomfort and smiled. “Try ‘OK,’ Manuel,” he said. “It’s an Americanism, but it’ll work for us.”

“Sí, Señor,” Manuel replied, adding, somewhat uncomfortably, “OK.”

Martín laughed, then stepped out of the car and walked across the wide sidewalk to the café. It was a historical landmark, the gathering place of Argentina’s literati, thespians, and musicians for nearly a century. Photographs—or sometimes oil paintings—or the more famous of these decorated the paneled walls of the large main room, and even hung on the walls of the stairway leading down to the rest rooms.

Though the place was crowded with patrons of all ages, there was, Martín thought somewhat unkindly, a high percentage of dramatically dressed and coiffured ladies well past their prime, but still with a coterie of admirers.

He walked slowly through the room until he saw Milton Leibermann, sitting alone at a small table, reading La Nación. “Well, what a pleasant surprise,” Martín said. “May I join you, Milton?”

“It would be my great pleasure,” Leibermann said, laying the newspaper down.

Their rendezvous was scheduled; they had decided upon it at the Frade reception at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo. That was fortunate, because something had come up that Martín considered—a gut feeling; he could offer no explanation—he should pass on to Leibermann.

An elderly waiter appeared and took their order for coffee.

“Anything interesting in the paper?” Martín asked.

“Actually, there’s a pretty good piece in here—from Reuters, which I suppose will make you think it’s British propaganda—saying that fourteen thousand Jews were killed in the suppression of the uprising in the Warsaw ghetto.”

“That seems an incredible number,” Martín said.

“And forty thousand were arrested,” Leibermann went on. “The number of dead and prisoners doesn’t really surprise me, actually, but how long it took the German army to do it does. We hear all these stories about the invincible German army, and here they are, forced out of Africa, and taking six weeks to defeat people armed with only pistols and rifles, most of them without military experience.”