Castillo picked up on Yung’s attitude.
He’s not sullen.
I was afraid he would be. He didn’t want to come down here and, when he did, he got shot.
I thought I would really be on his shit list.
But he’s almost cheerful. Is he a little high on painkillers?
“And this is?” Castillo asked, indicating Artigas.
“Julio Artigas, Major,” Artigas answered. “I’m a legal attaché in Montevideo.”
Castillo took the offered hand.
“And what brings you to Buenos Aires, Mr. Artigas?”
Their eyes met, causing Artigas to conclude, This is one tough, intelligent character.
“I asked him to come, Major,” Yung said.
Castillo looked questioningly at him.
“Artigas has pretty well figured out what’s going on, Major,” Yung said.
“Figured out what that’s going on?” Castillo asked.
“Colonel…” Ambassador Silvio began.
Castillo saw that Yung had picked up on the rank.
“…Mr. Artigas was taken to the estancia by the Uruguayan National Police,” Silvio continued. “He’s…been around…this situation practically from the beginning.”
“And he was with Chief Inspector Ordóñez when Ordóñez took Lowery and me to the estancia,” Yung said.
“And how much did you—and/or Lowery—tell him?”
“Nothing he hadn’t already pretty well figured out for himself, Maj…did the ambassador call you ‘Colonel’?”
“Yes, I did,” Silvio said.
“Well, congratulations,” Yung said. “Well deserved.”
He is high, Castillo thought. There’s no other explanation for that. He seems genuinely pleased.
“Thank you,” Castillo said as Yung enthusiastically pumped his hand.
“What did they give you for the pain, Dave?” Castillo asked.
“Nothing. I took a couple of aspirin.”
I’ll be damned!
“Artigas, you’re a problem I didn’t expect,” Castillo said. “Mr. Ambassador, may I use your secure line?”
“Of course,” Silvio said. “It’s in a small closet euphemistically referred to as my office.”
[THREE]