Jack and his family had been ripe for something like this to happen for years, ever since he had been given that obscenely generous payment for being run over by the beer truck.
And Argentina certainly was the place for it to have happened. Kidnapping there had replaced schools that taught English as the national cottage industry.
He would not-could not-allow what had happened to Jack to force him to change his plans. All this really meant was that it would soon be discovered that Jean-Paul Lorimer was missing in Paris-and that might have already happened.
If he called Betsy to express his condolences, even if he didn't tell her where he was calling from, that would mean that although he had been missing since the thirteenth of July-in other words, for ten days-he'd been alive on the twenty-third.
That didn't even get into the matter of traceable telephone records, which would locate him.
And his expression of condolences would, after all, be hypocritical.
I never liked the arrogant sonofabitch, and am not at all sorry that he got knocked off his high horse with two bullets in the brain.
There was even an upside to this.
The attention by the press would be to the murder of Jack the Stack Masterson, who despite his Phi Beta Kappa key didn't have enough brains to get out of the way of a beer truck, and no one would pay much, if any, attention to the disappearance of his brother-in-law in France.
He dropped the Herald onto the floor beside the bed and turned to Maria del Juanita.
"Darling, put some clothes on, and tell Senora Sanchez I will have my coffee in the library."
VIII
[ONE] El Presidente de la Rua Suite The Four Seasons Hotel Cerrito 1433 Buenos Aires, Argentina 0647 24 July 2005 A full minute after Special Agent Jack Britton lifted the brass knocker on the door of suite 1500-which was actually a switch triggering the door chimes-Major C. G. Castillo pulled the door open to him.
Castillo was wearing a plush white ankle-length terry cloth robe adorned with the crest of the Four Seasons hotel. He needed a shave, his hair wasn't combed, and it wasn't wet, either.
Britton thought, I got here even before he got into the shower, then said: "Schneider's not up yet, either. Or she's in the shower. She didn't answer when I knocked. But your driver is. They put him through to me by mistake. I told him I'd tell you he was here."
"Come on in, Jack," Castillo said. "We're running a little late. They haven't even taken the dishes away from last night."
Castillo walked to the telephone on the coffee table, punched a number, and in Spanish asked the concierge to send up his driver with copies of La Nacion, Clarin, and the Herald; to check on his suit with the valet; and to immediately send up two large pots of coffee.
Britton listened and watched intently, trying to understand what was being said.
And then his interest really perked up.
The bedroom door opened and Special Agent Schneider came out, dressed as she had been the night before in blue jeans and a sweater.
"Good morning, Jack," she said, matter-of-factly.
She had her voice under control but not her blush mechanism.
"If you're going to order breakfast," she said, "order a big one for me."
She then walked out of the El Presidente de la Rua Suite, calling over her shoulder, "I won't be long."
The door closed, and Britton and Castillo looked at each other.
"I think, Jack," Castillo said finally, "that this is one of those times when silence would be golden."
Britton nodded, then said, "Sorry. I have to say this. From the way you looked at her just now, I could tell that you're not fooling around with her, that it's something more serious. So good for you. I know she's nuts about you."
"How the hell could you know that?"
"When we were in G-Man School, the subject of our conversations always seemed to wind up with you. And the proof came last night when we were eating. Both of you looked at everything but each other. And then, just now, the two of you looked like Adam and Eve in the garden before Eve started fooling around with the snake. She's a good lady. You're lucky."
Because he could think of nothing else to say, Castillo asked, "Is that what you call it, 'G-Man School'?"