"An old friend of mine in Vienna showed me photos of Lorimer entering and leaving Douchon's apartment in Vienna. They were taken after someone had pulled his teeth and carved him up. After that, Mr. Lorimer disappeared. It could be, of course, that he was taken bodily into heaven, but I think it far more likely that someone besides the Austrian Geheimpolizei were keeping an eye on that Cobenzlgasse apartment to see if Lorimer might show up, and they grabbed him."
"We know that somebody bought a train ticket to Paris on his UN American Express card," Castillo said. "Let's say it was Lorimer himself. They didn't grab him in Vienna, in other words. Let's say they didn't grab him in Paris, either. If he saw what happened to Douchon, he was watching his back. Let's say he got on the train, and didn't go to Paris because he thought they might be looking for him there. So, say he got off the train in Munich. Or didn't even get on the train to Paris. He could have bought a ticket to Paris on his credit card, then bought another for cash to… anywhere. Maybe even to Budapest."
"That's possible, of course," Kocian said. "But I don't think you're going to be able to find him."
"If he was going to hide-and why wouldn't he have thought of having someplace to hide if something went wrong?-where do you think he might have gone?"
"Anywhere," Kocian said. "The south of France. Lebanon. Maybe even the United States. Anywhere. Who knows?"
"You didn't mention South America," Castillo said. "Argentina or-"
Castillo stopped in midsentence, surprised when Kocian flashed Otto Goerner an angry look. This caused Kocian to look at him.
"Why not South America?" Castillo pursued.
Yeah. Why not? Did these bastards abduct Mrs. Mastersonin Buenos Aires and murder her husband in South America because when they couldn't find Lorimer here, they figured he might be in South America, and if his sister was there, she would probably know where he was? Or that he was there because she was?
"Otto, have you been talking to our Little Karlchen about South America?" Kocian inquired sarcastically.
"Some," Goerner admitted. "Not in this context."
"In what context?"
"I told him of your suspicions-my suspicions, too- that some of this oil-for-food money in Germany might find its way over there."
"Might find its way over there?" Kocian snapped. "The sun might come up tomorrow."
"You want to tell me about that, Herr Kocian?" Castillo asked.
"No."
"But you will, right?"
"No."
"Kranz, get out the pliers," Castillo said. "We're going to do a little dentistry."
"Karl, that's not funny!" Otto Goerner said.
"What's funny, Otto," Kocian said, seriously, "is that I'm not really sure he's kidding. I said something before about him looking like Willi. His eyes right now make him look ver
y much like the Old Man. When the Old Man looked at you with that look in his eyes, you knew he was determined to get what he wanted."
"What I really want is to find Jean-Paul Lorimer," Castillo said.
"And what I really want is to burn the greedy bastards in Germany who were involved in slimy profits from Oil for Food," Kocian said. "I'm close to having proof they won't be able to deny. And I don't want anyone-you- rushing over there and letting them know I'm getting close and giving them a chance-"
"I'm not interested in greedy German bastards unless I find out they're responsible for the death of Masterson and Sergeant Markham," Castillo said.
"Are we back to vengeance?"
"I'm back to following my orders," Castillo said.
"You heard that a lot at the Nuremberg Nazi trials," Kocian said. " 'All I was doing was following my orders.' "
"They said that to justify the murder of innocent people," Castillo replied. "These bastards are neither innocent nor helpless."
Kocian nodded. "That's true." He looked into Castillo's eyes. "You never told me exactly what your orders are."