Honor Bound (Honor Bound 1)

“A suit. I have an important lunch.”

“The double-breasted gray?”

“That should do,” Frade said. “With one of the new shirts.”

“Sí, mi Coronel.”

“And for a tie?”

“Lay several out,” Frade said.

“Sí, mi Coronel. And the black wing tips?”

Frade nodded.

“The Señora asks that you call when you have time,” Antonio said. “At her home.”

“Here? She’s in town?”

“Sí, mi Coronel.”

“The Señora will have to wait. If she calls again, please tell her I will try to call her this afternoon. And while you’re on the phone, call the Centro Naval* and tell them I may require my table for luncheon.”

“For how many guests, mi Coronel?”

“One.”

“Sí, mi Coronel,” Antonio said as he picked up a silver coffeepot and refilled, el Coronel’s cup. “You will require the car when, mi Coronel?”

“My appointment is for twelve, at the Alvear Palace.”

“Eleven-thirty, mi Coronel?”

“A little earlier, I think. I don’t want to be late.”

“Sí, mi Coronel.”

At ten forty-five, when el Coronel descended the wide marble staircase to the entrance foyer and looked out the window, his car was not standing before the door.

He turned and went down a corridor into the kitchen. Antonio was sitting at the kitchen table with the housekeeper and one of the maids, drinking coffee.

“Mi Coronel, you said eleven-thirty,” he said with reproof in his voice, as he stood up.

“It is not a problem,” Frade said, walked past him, and passed through a door leading to the basement garage.

Enrico was there, his suit jacket off, his shirt sleeves rolled up, polishing the hood of the Buick station wagon. He was carrying a .45 automatic in a shoulder holster.

“Antonio said eleven-thirty, mi Coronel,” he said.

“Better to be early than late,” Frade said.

“Where are we going, mi Coronel?”

“We are not going anywhere. I will not need you this morning, Enrico.”

“¿Mi Coronel?”

“I am going to the Alvear Plaza, and then to the Centro Naval. And I wish to be alone.”