A Quiet Flame

“She was very good,” I said. “But then, she is an actress, after all. What will happen to them? To Ilse? To Fabienne?”

“They will be kept here, in Buenos Aires. Kept safe. No harm will come to them, I can assure you. As I told you on the plane, von Bader is the only one of the three remaining trustees of the Reichsbank accounts with a family. Therefore he is the only trustee who can be trusted to go to Zurich and do what we require him to do. Which is to sign over the Reichsbank accounts to the Peróns. Ilse von Bader feared allowing herself and her daughter to become hostages for her husband’s safe return. That is why they disappeared. Which left our plans in obvious disarray, since we could hardly let von Bader go to Zurich without some guarantee that he would come back again.” The colonel lit a cigarette. “So as soon as you tell me where they are hiding, we can pick them up and he can be on his way.”

“How much is there?” I asked. “In the Zurich account.”

“No one knows for sure. Not even the trustees. But in all likelihood, it’s several billion dollars.”

I whistled. In the Jockey Club, it sounded like a bomb falling out of a Junkers 88.

“Stolen, of course,” I said. “From millions of murdered Jews.”

The colonel shrugged. “Perhaps so. However, you’ve seen what she does with the money. She gives it away to the sick and the poor. Can you think of a better thing to do with it?”

“She’s buying an electorate.”

“Don’t be so naive. All electorates are bought in one way or another. Promises to reduce unemployment. Promises to reduce taxes. Promises to raise public spending. There’s not much difference between that and what Evita does. And who’s to say her way isn’t less wasteful, with no money used up by a bureaucracy.” He smoked patiently. “So. Where are they?”

I had little desire to help the Peróns. But it was that or the plane ride to the bottom of the river.

“They’re living with your friend Hans Kammler,” I said. “At Wiederhold, his ranch near Tucumán. Posing as his wife and daughter.”

“That’s impossible,” said the colonel.

“No, it’s not.”

“You must have made a mistake. His real wife and daughter are living at Ingenios. It was I who arranged their visas to come here from Germany. More than a year ago. I think I’d know if it wasn’t them.”

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. I didn’t say they were his wife and daughter. I said they were posing as his wife and daughter. It took me a while to recognize Fabienne. She calls herself Mercedes now and has dyed her hair red. But her father, von Bader, was right. She’s still a real beauty. Only it wasn’t she who captivated Kammler. It was Ilse. She’s a beauty, too. Kammler is very much in love with her.”

“So where are his real wife and daughter?”

“Kammler’s a rich man, Colonel. He’s got a plane in his back garden. My guess is that he paid the real wife off with a nice piece of change, and then flew her and his real daughter to Chile. Set them up somewhere else. Maybe they’re already back in Germany.”

“I didn’t know he had a plane up there.”

“He’s got it all up there. Wealth. A beautiful home. A beautiful mistress. I almost envied him.”

“Kammler.” The colonel frowned. “How very ungrateful of him.” His frown deepened. “You’re sure of this?”

“Of course I’m sure. I always remember a face. Especially a pretty face. It’s names I have a problem with.”

“Yes, I think I believe you.” The colonel shrugged. “In which case, this is yours.” He patted the briefcase. “You know, it’s nice to be proved right about someone. I was right about you. In your own haphazard way, you’re a hell of a detective, Gunther.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, perhaps that was it. You were the random factor that was needed in this case.”

“If you say so, Colonel.”

“Incidentally, the passport contains visas to a number of foreign countries, including Uruguay, Brazil, Cuba, and Spain. There’s also a first-class ticket for tonight’s riverboat service to Montevideo. Leaving at twenty-one hundred hours. I know how much you dislike air travel. Anyway, I strongly suggest you be on that boat. Very strongly. You can leave the car in the Compañía de Navegación Fluvial Argentina office at the ferry station.”

“Getting rid of me, is that it?”

“As I said to you before. Many times. In Argentina, it is better to know everything than to know too much. I’m afraid that now you know too much. Like Isabel Pekerman, for example. Leaving the country, for good, is the only possible solution for a man who won’t disappear.” He smiled his infernal smile. “I hope I’ve made myself very clear this time.”

“Very. I was thinking of leaving anyway.”