"Since she makes twelve-day cruises out of Miami about the sunny Caribbean, each of which features two steak nights, and filet mignon is an ever-present option on her luncheon and dinner menus, yeah, Edgar, 'a lot.' "And has either of you ever wondered where they get all this meat-or the grapefruits and oranges from which is squeezed the fresh juice for the 2,680 breakfasts served each day, etcetera, etcetera?"
"Argentina?" Castillo asked innocently.
"You win the cement bicycle, Charley," Weiss said. "And have either of you ever wondered how all those filet mignons make their way from the Argentine pampas to the coolers of the Holiday Spirit and her many sister ships?"
Castillo and Delchamps waited for him to go on.
"I left out the succulent oysters, lobsters, and other fruits of the sea sent from the chilly Chilean South Pacific seas to the coolers of the Holiday Spirit and her sister ships," Weiss said.
"You're forgiven," Delchamps said. "Get on with it."
"Air freight!" Weiss said. "Large aircraft-some of them owned by Aleksandr Pevsner, by the way-make frequent, sometimes daily flights from Buenos Aires to Jamaica loaded with chilled but not frozen meat and other victuals for the cruise ship trade."
"Jesus!" Castillo said, sensing where Weiss was headed.
"We all know how wonderful Argentine beef is, and how cheap. And most cruise ships-just about all of the Southern Cruise Line ships, and there are four of these, the smallest capable of carrying eleven hundred passengers-call at Montego Bay or Kingston, or both, on each and every voyage. Kingston is served by Norman Manley International Airfield, and Montego Bay by Sangster International.
"While the happy tourists-is there a word for the people who ride these floating hotels? Cruisers, maybe?-are wandering through the picturesque streets of Kingston and Montego Bay, soaking up culture and taking pictures for the folks back home, the hardworking Jamaican gnomes are moving loins of Argentine beef from refrigerator plants, and occasionally-if yesterday's flight from Buenos Aires was delayed for some reason-directly from the airplane to the coolers on the cruise ships."
"And under the ice is that day's shipment of heroin," Delchamps said.
"Edgar, you've always been just terrible about thinking such awful things are going on," Weiss said, mock innocently.
"And how do they get it off the ship in the States?" Castillo asked.
"There are several ways to do that," Weiss said. "One is with the ship's garbage and sewage, which now has to be brought ashore, rather than as before, when it was tossed overboard, thereby polluting the pristine waters of the Atlantic. Or, in the wee hours of the morn, as the vessel approaches Miami, it is dumped over the side, to be retrieved later by sportfishermen. Global Positioning System satellites are very helpful to the retrievers."
"And where is the DEA, or the Coast Guard, or whoever is supposed to be dealing with this sort of thing while all this is going on?" Castillo asked.
"So far they don't know about it," Weiss said, and Castillo sensed that suddenly Weiss had become dead serious, that his joking attitude had just been shut off as if a switch had been thrown.
And he made some remark before about Montvale-who was supposed to be on top of everything going on in the intelligence community-not knowing about an "important operation."
What the hell is going on?
Weiss met Castillo's eyes for a moment, and Castillo was again reminded of Aleksandr Pevsner.
"And we don't want them to know about it," Weiss went on.
"Are you going to tell me about that?" Castillo asked carefully.
"That's why I'm here, Castillo. I told you, you're in a position to fuck up an important operation. But before I get into that, I want you to understand this conversation never took place."
"I can't go along with that."
"You don't have any choice," Weiss said. "I'll deny it. And so will Delchamps."
"That leaves out the Secret Service guy you ran off," Castillo said. "He saw you here."
"He saw Delchamps and me taking a walk down memory lane. That's all. Paraguay and Timmons never came up."
Castillo looked at Delchamps.
"I gave him my word, Ace. Not for auld lang syne, but because it was the only way I could get him to come."
"I'm not giving you my word about anything," Castillo said. "And that specifically includes me not going to Montvale and telling him you're withholding intelligence I should have."
"Before this gets unpleasant, let me tell you about the important operation," Weiss said. "The bottom line, Castillo, is that it'll be your call."