"It would be impossible today," she said. "He just left for Barcelona on a business trip."

"Is he a good friend of yours?"

"Freddie? He's my fiance."

"You're kidding!"

"No. I'm to be the Marquesa de Runa. Didn't you know?"

"Does anyone else know it?"

"Yes," she said. "He does. Now don't start cross-examining me about that! It's my affair."

"I won't. You always know what you're doing."

"Thanks. I feel like doing some plowing over the week-end. With you.

Let's talk about it then, if it still interests you. And in the meanwhile, I'll have someone look through the car for your notebook."

"Thanks a lot."

Hall went to the car. "Let's go back to the hotel," he said, "and find Souza. Or is the day clerk reliable?"

"Don't worry," Pepe said. "Arturo can be trusted. That's why Souza got him the job."

"We have a lot to do, Pepe. I want to search the room of the Dutchman, Androtten. We'll need all the help we can get."

They found the task very simple. Androtten had left that morning with a small handbag on what he described to the clerk as a two-day buying trip in the south. With the day clerk standing guard at the phone and Vicente lounging in the hall to sound any needed alarm, Hall and Pepe entered the Dutchman's room with a pa.s.s key and drew the blinds.

There was a picture of Androtten and what was evidently his family in a portable leather frame on the bureau. It showed Androtten and a fat blond matron sitting at a table, with a youth in his teens at Androtten's left and a little girl leaning at the woman's knee. "He's a family man," Pepe said.

"We'll see." Hall went through the wastebasket, the clothes hanging in the closet, every drawer in the bureau. He examined every piece of luggage for false sides and bottoms, hidden compartments, and stray papers. In the traveling bag he found in the closet, Hall discovered a heavy brown envelope. Inside was the picture of a young colonial Netherlands officer and a letter from the Dutch Government-in-Exile. The letter regretted to inform Androtten that his esteemed son, Lieutenant Wilhelm Androtten II, had perished fighting the n.a.z.i invaders in the battle for the Lowlands, and had been posthumously awarded the second highest decoration the Queen gave such heroes. Hall had to guess at the contents of the letter, using his German as a basis for deciphering the Dutch.

"Does this look like that boy grown up?" he asked Pepe.

"I think so, Mateo. What does the letter say?"

Hall gave him the gist of the letter as he understood it. "But I still think he's a fraud, Pepe. Let's examine the labels on his clothes again."

The labels revealed only what Androtten had already indicated. London, Amsterdam, New Orleans, Rio. He had purchased no clothes in San Hermano.

"Let's get out of here, Pepe."

"Where are you going now?"

"I've got to write a letter in my room. But wait for me. I think we're going to visit Duarte when I've got the letter finished."

His own room, he soon discovered, had also been searched that day. The lock on his traveling bag had been picked, and the stethoscope was missing. He flung the new straw hat in the closet and went to the lobby.

Pepe was talking to the day clerk. He grinned at Hall, asked, "So soon?"

"I changed my mind." Then, to the clerk, "Where is Miss Olmstead? At the University laboratory?"

"No, senor. She went to the country with the two doctors."

"Do you know where exactly?"

"No. Only that she went to the country. They will not be back tonight.

They left an hour ago."

"Come on, Pepe. We have to get started."

They sat down in the car. "First stop the Mexican Emba.s.sy," Hall said.

"But wait there for me. I won't be too long."

"What happened?"

"My room was searched. The stethoscope is missing."

"That means trouble, Mateo."

"Sure. It also means that someone was careless. Where the h.e.l.l were Arturo and Vicente?"

"It's a big hotel, Mateo. We were talking about it only this morning.

Duarte wants you to stay with him in his house for the night."

"What do you think about it?"

"Duarte is right."

"But I have a good gun, Pepe. And good friends."

"I know that, Mateo. But stay with Duarte tonight. I think that tonight someone else should sleep in your bed. Duarte suggested three pillows or a log. Then, in the morning, if there are no bullet holes in the pillows ..."

"Or the log ..."

"... or the log, then you can say it was a mistake to sleep at Duarte's house tonight. Someone followed me this morning, Mateo. I drove him crazy, but I couldn't get a look at him myself. It was very funny. But it is also serious."

Hall put the gun back in his pocket. "Maybe it is," he said. "I'll stay with Duarte."

"It is the right thing to do, Mateo. I'll leave you with Duarte. I have to see Souza and some other friends tonight."

Pepe waited at the curb until Hall was admitted to the Mexican Emba.s.sy.

Then, his eyes sweeping the streets for signs of anyone shadowing him on foot or by automobile, he took the most roundabout route he could devise to reach the Transport Workers' Union headquarters.

Duarte had had no word from General Mogrado. "I'm sure he met the courier," he told Hall. "But I'm worried by his silence. It is not like him."

"Give him another night, Felipe. In the meanwhile, I'll send another letter to Havana. I just can't believe that the evidence on Ansaldo is not available on this side of the ocean. If it's nowhere else, it must be in Havana."

"Why are you so sure?"