"And as far as getting money to pay the ransom, all that would take is a telephone call, telling somebody- his financial guy, probably; they're old friends-to get five hundred thousand, or a million, in cash and get it down here as quickly as possible. A courier could have been on the same plane I was on, for that matter, and there's a direct American Airlines flight from Dallas. Or he could have hired a Citation or something like it. He has-had-the money, and he was desperate."

"Yeah," Hall agreed thoughtfully, and then asked, "Where are you?"

"I'm with Amba.s.sador Silvio. In his office."

"He knows you were sent down there by the President?"

"Yes, sir."

"What's your next step? You know he's going to ask."

"I'm going to go to the hospital. Maybe, when she comes out of it . . ."

"How am I going to be able to get in touch with you?"

"Santini, Joel's buddy, loaned me a cellular. I don't know if you can call it, but I know I can call the States with it."

"Give me the number."

Ninety seconds later, as Castillo held it in his hand, the cellular rang.

"Castillo."

"It works, apparently," Hall said. "I'm going back to the secure line."

Two seconds later, Hall said, "I could have said this on the cellular. Keep in touch, Charley. Let me know anything you find out."

"Yes, sir."

Hall broke the connection without saying anything else.

"White House. Are you through?"

"Shut it down, please," Castillo said, and replaced the handset in its cradle. He sensed Silvio's eyes on him.

"You think Jack Masterson was trying to pay ransom?" Silvio asked.

"Sir, that's one-"

A female voice came over an intercom loudspeaker.

"Mr. Amba.s.sador, the foreign secretary is on two."

Silvio reached for the telephone.

"Good morning, Osvaldo.

"Osvaldo, I'm always happy to receive you at your convenience.

"That will be fine. I will be expecting you.

"I appreciate that, Osvaldo. And I agree, this is a genuine tragedy. I will be waiting for you."

Silvio broke the connection with his finger, but kept the handset in his hand.

"The foreign minister officially requests an immediate audience," Silvio said. "And personally, he said he's heartbroken. I think he means that; he got along very well with Jack."

Castillo nodded, but didn't say anything.

Silvio took his finger off the switch, then pressed a b.u.t.ton on his telephone.

"Oh, Sylvia. I'm glad you're in. Could you come in right away, please? Thank you."

He hung up the telephone and looked at Castillo again.

"The foreign minister, sometime during our audience, is going to ask me how I intend to deal with the press. To avoid hurting his feelings by having some doubts about his suggestions along that line, I'm going to show him what I have already released to the press."

A moment later, a slightly chubby woman in her late forties put her head into Silvio's office. She had heavily rimmed spectacles sticking out of her salt-and-pepper- and somewhat unkempt-hair. Silvio waved her in.

"Good morning, Sylvia," Silvio said.

"With all due respect, Mr. Amba.s.sador, what's good about it? Jack was one of the good guys. And those poor kids!"

"Sylvia, this is Mr. Castillo. Mr. Castillo, this is Mizz Sylvia Grunblatt, our public affairs officer."

Ms. Grunblatt's offered handshake suggested that while she considered it a strange custom and a complete waste of her time, she resigned herself to the act.

"How much have you heard, Sylvia?"

She looked at Castillo as if wondering what she could say before a man she didn't know.

"Ken Lowery gave me a heads-up earlier," she said finally. "And then he called and told me he was at the German Hospital, and I went there on my way here. He pretty much filled me in."

"The foreign minister is on his way here. When he gets here I want to be able to tell him what we have released to the press."

"Which is?"

"In the opening lines, I'd like something to the effect that we are grateful to the Argentine government-on whom we have been relying to get to the bottom of this tragic event since it developed-for their great efforts, in which we have complete confidence."

Ms. Grunblatt considered that for about fifteen seconds.

"Okay. And what else?"

"Sylvia, I learned from you that when all else fails, tell the truth."

"And the truth is?"

"All we know is that Mrs. Masterson disappeared undercirc.u.mstances that suggested she had been kidnapped, and that Mr. Masterson was murdered, probably by the abductors, as she was left in the taxicab with him."

"Okay," she said. "I'll get right on it."

"It will take him, say, fifteen minutes to get here."

"You'll have it, Mr. Amba.s.sador."

"I'd like a look at what Miss Grunblatt comes up with, please," Castillo said.

That earned him a frosty glance. She said, "It's Mizz Grunblatt, Mr. Costello."

"It's Castillo, Mizz Grunblatt."

"You think you might wish to add something, Mr. Castillo?" Silvio asked.

"Oh, no, sir. I'd just like to know what we're saying."

"Am I allowed to ask who Mr. Castillo is?" she asked.

"He works for the President, Sylvia, which means we tell him anything he wants to know."

"Is that for dissemination?" she asked.

"Absolutely not," Castillo said.

She held up both hands, palms out, to indicate that that information could not be torn from her under any conditions.

He smiled at her.

"Do you kill people who look over your shoulder while you work?" Castillo asked.

"Only if they're looking down my dress," Ms. Grunblatt said. "You that hot to see what I come up with?"

"I'd like to see it before I go to the German Hospital," he said.

"Sure, why not?" she said.

"I'll see that you have a car and driver, Mr. Castillo," the amba.s.sador said.

"I can take a taxi, sir."

"Indulge me," the amba.s.sador said.

"Thank you, sir."

[THREE].

"So what do you think?" Ms. Grunblatt asked.

"I think it's just what the amba.s.sador wants," Castillo replied. "Who gets this?"

"Once the boss approves it, I'll e-mail it first to the Herald- Herald-that's the English-language paper here-and then AP, then the New York Times. New York Times. Then I'll call them to let them know I sent it. After that, everybody else-the local media." Then I'll call them to let them know I sent it. After that, everybody else-the local media."

"Fax one to a man named Karl Gossinger at the Four Seasons."

"Who is he?"

"He works for a German newspaper called the Tages Zeitung. Tages Zeitung."

And he will shamelessly paraphrase your very well-written yarn and send it off as his own.

She looked at him curiously but said only, "Consider it done."

The door to her office opened and a large and muscular young man in civilian clothing came in. His tweed jacket didn't do much to conceal the large revolver on his belt. Castillo was sure he was one of the Marine guards.

"Mr. Castillo?"

"Right."

"Sir, I've got your car anytime you're ready to go."

"I'm ready," Castillo said. He looked at Ms. Grunblatt. "Thanks."

"If you find out anything over there, you'll keep it to yourself, right?"

"You will be the second to know."

The Marine led him to an emba.s.sy BMW in the emba.s.sy bas.e.m.e.nt and held the rear door open for him.

"Would it be all right with you if I rode up front?" Castillo asked.

"Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir."

Castillo walked around the front of the car and pulled the pa.s.senger door open. There was a leather toilet kit on the seat.

"There's a toilet kit on the seat," Castillo announced. "Yours?"

"No, sir. That's for you, sir."

"The amba.s.sador thought I needed a shave?"

"It's a weapon, sir. A pistol."

"Really?"

Castillo unzipped the bag. It held a GI 9mm Beretta semiautomatic pistol.

That was a d.a.m.ned nice thing for Silvio to do for me.

Castillo took the pistol from the bag and pressed the magazine release b.u.t.ton. The magazine did not slip out. He looked. There was no magazine.