"Hypothetically, if I knew (a) where somebody I wanted to teach to sing was located-in a foreign country; and (b) I knew that other people were trying to make sure that he didn't sing, what I think I would do would be to get him back home to the good ol' USA as quickly and quietly as possible. A helicopter would be useful if someone was, hypothetically, of course, thinking of doing something like that."

"You just told me, you realize, that Lorimer is not living in Buenos Aires. Or any other city. You want the helicopter to move him from someplace in the country to an airport. An airport large enough to take a plane that could fly him out of the country. You didn't, by any chance, come all the way down here in that Lear you had in Cozumel?"

"I'd love to keep playing twenty-questions with you, Alex, but I have to be running along. Are you going to loan me your helicopter or not?"

"G.o.dd.a.m.n you, Charley."

"You already said that. Nice to see you, Alex." Castillo stood up. "I'll have to pa.s.s on the lomo lomo sandwich and the beer. Thanks anyway." sandwich and the beer. Thanks anyway."

"Sit down, Charley," Pevsner said. "You can have the helicopter."

"Thank you."

"What do I tell the pilot? Have you thought this through?"

"Tell your pilot to fly it to Jorge Newbery by five o'clock this afternoon. Tell him to park it at Jet-Aire. Have him top off the tanks, leave the key under the pad in the pilot's seat, and take three days off."

"Who's going to fly it?"

"I will. And when I'm through with it, I'll take it back to Jorge Newbery, give you a call, and your pilot can pick it up."

Pevsner nodded. He looked at Munz, and after a momentadded, "Take Alfredo with you. I'm sure he'll be useful."

"Absolutely not. But thank you just the same."

"Alfredo is not in the beauty spot business, if that's what you're thinking."

"But he could come back and tell you where we'd been, couldn't he?"

"If you'd already taken Lorimer out of the country, what difference would that make? What I'm thinking is that when it comes out-and it will-that you got to Lorimer before the other people looking for him did, it would be embarra.s.sing for me if people knew you'd used my helicopter to kidnap him."

"Kidnap him? What a terrible thing to even think! What I'm thinking of, hypothetically, of course, is returning this poor, lost soul to the bosom of his loved ones."

"Of course. What I'm suggesting is that if something happened while you were carrying out this humanitarian mission of yours-officialdom asking questions you'd rather not answer, for example-Alfredo could deal with that better than you could."

G.o.ddammit, he's right.

The question is, will Munz deal with the officialdom, or just wait for the opportunity to whack Lorimer?

Castillo looked at Munz.

"Are you wondering, Karl, if I have become an a.s.sa.s.sin for hire?" Munz asked.

"That occurred to me."

Munz met his eyes for a long moment.

"If I were in your place, I would wonder, too. The answeris no, I have not. I ask you to consider this: These people have changed my life, too. I bear-and my wife and my family shares-the shame of my being relieved and retired for incompetence. I would really like to find out who they are."

So you can pop them, Alfredo?

"I said the thought had occurred to me. It did, and I dismissed it," Castillo said.

Do I mean that? Or am I already wondering who I can trust to pop him the moment he looks like he's thinking of whacking Lorimer?

I guess I meant it.

But that doesn't mean I shouldn't seriously consider the selection of someone to pop him in case I'm wrong. Or prepare to do it myself.

"Thank you," Munz said.

"Why don't you tell your pilot to fly Alfredo to Jorge Newbery?" Castillo said. "That will make him less curious about what's going on."

Pevsner considered that and nodded.

The maid appeared with a tray laden with hard-crusted lomo lomo sandwiches and a wine cooler filled with ice and beer bottles. sandwiches and a wine cooler filled with ice and beer bottles.

"Ah, our lunch," Pevsner said. Then he turned to Castillo. "Didn't you say something about having to call someone, Charley, to let them know you're with friends?"

"I was lying about that, Alex."

Pevsner looked at him, shook his head, and said, "You sonofab.i.t.c.h. I say that in the spirit of friendship and mutual trust, of course."

[THREE].

Nuestra Pequena Casa Mayerling Country Club Pilar, Buenos Aires Province, Argentina 1505 29 July 2005 Amba.s.sador Juan Manuel Silvio, Ph.D., amba.s.sador extraordinary and plenipotentiary of the President of the United States of America to the Republic of Argentina, was sitting in the living room attired in blue jeans, battered health shoes, and a somewhat ratty-looking sweatshirt on which was the faded logo of Harvard University. He had a beer bottle in his hand.

"Good afternoon, sir," Castillo said.

"Good to see you again, Charley," the amba.s.sador said, rising from his chair to offer his hand. "Do I detect curiosity on your face? Perhaps because of my attire?"

"If I may say so, sir, you're not your usual natty self."

"I'm glad you asked," Silvio said, as he sat down. "When Alex said you wanted to see me and here, rather than at the emba.s.sy, the problem then arose, 'How was I going to get out here without having my SIDE escort wonder what I was doing at Our Little House?'"

"So you ditched the SIDE escort?" Castillo said, smiling.

"In a manner worthy of James Bond," Silvio said. "I left the emba.s.sy, went to the residence, changed clothes, and went jogging. I led three SIDE stalwarts on a merry chase through the park until they were puffing with the exertion. Then I speeded up the pace until they were far behind. And then I just happened to see a car driven by one of Alex's men, who stopped and offered me a ride."

"Just happened to see it, huh? What they call a fortuitous happenstance?"

Silvio nodded. "I've always wanted to be the subject of an all-points bulletin," Silvio said. "I can just see my good friend the foreign minister somewhat incredulously asking, 'You're telling me you lost the American amba.s.sador?'"

Castillo chuckled, then said, "Thank you for coming, sir."

"Thank you for asking me," Silvio said. "Or aren't you going to tell me what you've been doing? Or plan on doing?"

"Alex," Castillo said, "is there someplace here where the amba.s.sador and I can have a couple of minutes alone?"

Darby pointed through the plate-gla.s.s windows toward a small, tile-roofed building in the garden.

"How about the quincho?" he asked. "There's even beer in a refrigerator out there."

"That will do very nicely," Castillo said.

Castillo helped himself to a bottle of Quilmes beer, and then offered one to Amba.s.sador Silvio, who smiled and nodded and said, "Please."

When Castillo handed him the bottle, the amba.s.sador settled himself in an upholstered armchair and looked at him expectantly.

"I don't think you want to know all of it, sir," Castillo said.

"Tell me what you think you can," Silvio said.

"Well, sir, the President was waiting for the Globemaster at Biloxi with a finding he had just made. . . ."

". . . And that's about it, sir," Castillo concluded twenty minutes later.

Silvio, obviously considering what he had heard, didn't reply for a moment.

"My Latin blood took over for a moment," he said. "The first thing I thought was sympathy for Betsy Masterson and Amba.s.sador Lorimer. To learn that your brother and your son was not only involved in that slimy oil-for-food business, but-indirectly, perhaps, but certainly-responsible for the murder of your husband and son. And the murder of a very nice young Marine. And the wounding of . . ."

He stopped and looked at Castillo. "I'll understand if you'd rather not answer this. Is Dr. Lorimer on your list you intend to 'render harmless'?"

"What I intend to do with him, sir, is take him to the States. Alive."

Silvio nodded.

"I'm sure he could be a cornucopia of interesting information," he said. "But that won't keep Amba.s.sador Lorimer and Betsy from having to learn what a despicable sonofab.i.t.c.h he is, will it?"

"Sir, I'm ashamed to say I never even thought about that before. What I want Lorimer to do is point me in the direction of those who murdered Mr. Masterson. They're the ones I have been ordered to render harmless. Both Santini and Darby tell me the most likely scenario once I get him to the States is for him to be taken into the Witness Protection Program, which is run by the U.S. Marshal's service, in exchange for his cooperation."

Silvio grunted. "And if he doesn't choose to cooperate?"

"I think he will, sir. He knows that people are looking for him. And he'll understand, I think, that if we can find him, the people trying to find him to kill him- torture and kill him-can also find him. And I've had the fey notion that one thing I could tell him, to get him to cooperate, would be to threaten to take him back to Paris and turn him loose on the Place de la Concorde."

"After making sure Le Monde, Le Figaro, Le Monde, Le Figaro, and and L'Humanite L'Humanite are informed that the missing UN diplomat can be found there? I don't think that's a fey notion at all; that makes a good deal of sense." are informed that the missing UN diplomat can be found there? I don't think that's a fey notion at all; that makes a good deal of sense."

"I didn't think about telling the newspapers," Castillo admitted.

"Is there anything I can do to help, Charley?"

"Would you be willing to call Amba.s.sador McGrory and tell him the reason I didn't go to see him?"

"He wanted to see you?"

"He doesn't know what Yung is really doing in Montevideo . . ."

"And therefore feels he has the right to know what Yung is doing? Especially with you? What the telephone call from Secretary Cohen was really about?"

"Yes, sir. He told Yung if I went to Yung without going through the emba.s.sy first to tell me he wanted to see me immediately. I don't think he has to know about the finding. I'd like to leave him in a position where he can truthfully say he knew nothing about this. Either what I'm going to do, or what Yung has been doing."

"I understand. I'll call him as soon as I get back to the emba.s.sy."

"Thank you."

"He's going to be curious-from his standpoint, he has a right to know-what Yung's role in what you're going to do is going to be. Or, past tense, was. Can I tell him that after you're gone?"

"Yung's not going to have a role in what I'm going to do."

"Okay," Silvio responded. "That answers that, doesn't it?"

What's that look on Silvio's face mean?

That he doesn't believe Yung won't be involved?

That he's surprised that he won't be?

That he doesn't like me keeping McGrory, a fellow amba.s.sador, in the dark, to pick up the pieces after I screw up?

"Sir . . . there was a look on your face. Did something I said make you uncomfortable?"

"I guess I don't have the poker face good diplomats are supposed to have," Silvio replied. "And I certainly have no expertise in your area. But I was surprised that you're not going to use Yung and then take him out of the country when you leave."

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, won't his position with Amba.s.sadorMcGrory be compromised? McGrory will soon learn that Yung wasn't what he believed him to be. And since you're not going to tell him that you're operating with the authority of a Presidential Finding, I'm sure he'll go to the State Department with that. I would, in his shoes. Absent a Presidential Finding, an amba.s.sador is responsible for anything any government agency is doing in his country. And has veto power over any action proposed. He's not even going to know about this until it's over. He's going to be more than a little annoyed."

"Yes, sir. I know. What I'm trying to do is leave the amba.s.sador in a position where he truthfully can deny any knowledge of what I plan to do. Or did."

"I understand. What I did was presume that you would take Yung with you, taking advantage of his expertise, and then take him out of the country when you left. And that, once your mission was accomplished, the secretary would tell Amba.s.sador McGrory there were reasons for what had happened, and that she had decided it was best that he not be cognizant of those reasons. He wouldn't like it, but he would understand."

"And if I don't take Yung with me, and Yung obeys my orders to tell McGrory nothing-I threatened him with the felony provisions of violating Top Secret- Presidential material, so I think he would keep his mouth shut-McGrory would blow his top?"

"And a number of senior officials in the State Department who have no legitimate reason to know, would know that something had gone on in Uruguay . . ."

"And be curious and ask questions that shouldn't be asked," Castillo finished for him. "Which questions would come to-be leaked to-the Washington Post Washington Post and the and the New York Times New York Times and other President-haters." and other President-haters."

Silvio nodded.

"With all the ramifications of that," Castillo added.

"I'm sure you've thought of the risks involved, Charley. I'm not trying to tell you your business."

"The truth is I didn't think about it all," Castillo confessed. "Mr. Amba.s.sador, you just kept me from making a stupid mistake. A serious mistake. Thank you." Then he blurted, "You know what Amba.s.sador Montvale said about me?"

Silvio shook his head.

"Montvale said that I am someone 'who was given more authority than he clearly will be able to handle.' It looks like he's right on the money, doesn't it?"