The Honor of Spies

When Nervo finally sat down and was pouring himself another drink, Frade said, "Santiago, tell Casanova what it is that you are also having a hard time believing."

Nervo pointed with his glass at one of the manager's houses, into which the Mollers and the Kortigs and their families had been taken. Clete knew that both Dorotea and Claudia were there "to help with the children" and also that there were enough peones discreetly watching the house to make sure everything remained under control.

"Something smells with those two," Nervo said.

Schultz met his eyes. "Yeah," he said softly.

That's interesting. What have I missed that these two see?

"Look, Cletus," Nervo said, as if he'd read his mind. "I'm a policeman. I'm not like you and Martin, into politics and espionage and all that. Just a simple policeman."

Like hell you're just a simple policeman. You didn't get to be Inspector General of the Gendarmeria by being simple.

What is he doing now? Schmoozing me?

"But . . . ?" Frade said.

"Like most old policemen, I have learned to know when people are lying. And those two are."

"About what?"

Nervo shrugged. "You tell me. What have they got to lie about?"

Clete shrugged.

"They're either not who they say they are," Schultz said, "or they're not telling you something, or both."

"What do you mean, they're not who they say they are?"

Now Schultz shrugged.

"Tell me about this Gehlen guy," Nervo said. "He must be pretty smart, would you say?"

Smart enough to run the Russian Intelligence branch of the Abwehr, and smart enough to deal with Allen Dulles.

Yeah, I'd say he has to be pretty smart.

"He'd have to be," Frade said, "wouldn't he?"

"And he knows about Valkyrie, right?"

Frade sipped his drink, then nodded. "Yeah. Knows about--and is involved in--Valkyrie."

"Which makes a simple policeman like me think Gehlen doesn't think Adolf Hitler is God's sword against the Antichrist, and believes the best thing for Germany is to kill the bastard. Or am I wrong?"

"I think you're absolutely right," Clete said.

"So why did he send Moller?"

"I don't know where you're going," Clete admitted.

"Moller was not lying when he told me I should understand that he considers himself a serving officer who has taken a personal oath of allegiance to Hitler," Nervo said.

"And he made a point of telling you that. And he made a point of telling me that earlier today when we first met," Clete thought aloud. "So what?"

"And this guy comes as a trusted assistant to Gehlen?" Nervo said. "That smells, Cletus."

"What are you suggesting?" Clete asked.

"Well, I'm just a simple policeman, Cletus. But that phone call I made when we first came here, right after we landed?"

"What about it?"

"I told Subinspector General Nolasco to send two of my people to Santa Rosa--that's just about in the middle of the pampas--with orders not to come back until they have the cattle robbers--"

"Rustlers," Clete corrected him without thinking.

Nervo gave him a dirty look, then went on: "--operating down there in handcuffs. They're good people, Cletus, but they like Nazis and don't like Americans, and I didn't want them around to be curious about you and Alejandro and me suddenly becoming good friends. And talking about it."

"You think Gehlen sent Moller here to get rid of him?"

"Maybe to do both things," Nervo said. "To set things up to bring the rest of the Abwehr Ost people here, and to get him out of the way while he works on Valkyrie. But you're the intelligence officer. What do I know?"

What do you know? You knew about Valkyrie, didn't you?

And you didn't have to search your memory very hard to come up with Abwehr Ost, did you?

"You said before that both Moller and Kortig were lying. What's Kortig lying about?"

Schultz now spoke up. "Well, for one thing, I don't think he's really a sergeant major."

Frade looked at him without replying.

Schultz went on: "Clete, I'm certainly no intelligence officer. I spent all my life, from the time I was sixteen until a couple of months ago, as an enlisted sailor. But a lot--most--of that time I was a chief petty officer, and I know another senior noncommissioned officer when I see one, and Kortig ain't one. I have the gut feeling he's the OIC."

"You'll recall, el Jefe," Frade challenged, "that I had to tell you that Jose Cortina, Martin's sergeant major, is really a lieutenant colonel."

Schultz didn't back down.