“Why didn’t he come himself?”
“He called me from Buenos Aires.”
“Ah-ha! The plot deepens,” Julia Darby said.
“Is Alex here?”
She shook her head.
“Can you point me either to him or Charley?”
“The question is not whether I can, but whether I will. If I pointed at somebody, you would feel duty-bound to tell Montvale, right?”
“Yes, I would.”
“I cannot tell a lie, especially to a senior officer of the United States Secret Service,” she said. She then took a moment to orient herself and pointed in the general direction of South America. “To the best of my knowledge and belief, both of them are somewhere down there.”
“Your cooperation is deeply appreciated. You were pointing at South America, right?”
>
“In that general direction, yes.”
“Can you ... will you be more specific?”
She shook her head.
“Not even if I told you that Ambassador Montvale told me he’s acting for President Clendennen?”
“Especially if you told me that.”
“One final question, Julia. You’re not concealing two ex-SVR officers on the premises, are you?”
“I will answer that question. No, I am not.”
“And you wouldn’t know where such people would be, either, right?”
Julia Darby again pointed toward South America.
“They could be down that way,” she said. “But on the other hand, maybe not. Those SVR people are slippery, you know.”
He chuckled.
“Is my interrogation over, or is there anything else you’d like to know?” Julia Darby asked.
“This interview is concluded, Mrs. Darby. Thank you for your cooperation.”
“I’m always willing to cooperate with the Secret Service, Mr. McGuire. It’s my duty as a patriotic citizen.” Julia smiled warmly, then said: “Dianne and I were about to have a Bloody Mary. Would you like one?”
He hesitated.
“Come on, Tom. The interrogation is over. I swear Montvale will never know.”
He smiled. “Why not?”
“Let’s go in the kitchen,” Julia said. “Dianne is baking brownies for the boys. I was never much in the kitchen department, but I do make great Bloody Marys.”
In the kitchen, McGuire asked Dianne Sanders, “Where’s Harold?”