name, I would have had them pass you in,” he said. “All I heard was a ‘friend from Vienna,’ and I have many of those.”
“I understand,” Castillo said. “You thought it might be Henri Douchon, miraculously raised from the dead.”
“Who? I have no idea what you’re talking about, my friend.”
“Okay,” Castillo said, smiling.
“Come on in the house, we’ll have a glass of wine. Have you had luncheon? Can I offer you something?”
“I had a small ham-and-cheese sandwich at the airport in Montevideo, and yes, you may offer me something. Thank you very much.”
“Anna and the kids are at school. I have been at school. Horse school—”
“Equestrian, Alex,” Castillo corrected him. “I keep telling you things, and you keep forgetting them.”
“So you do. I was at equestrian school—I wonder, what’s the etymology of that word? What’s it got to do with horses?”
“It means horses, Alex. From the Latin equus,” Castillo said.
“I keep forgetting how smart you are, Charley. At least most of the time.”
“You mean you keep forgetting most of the time? Or that I’m smart only part of the time?”
“How about both? Anyway, I am just back from learning how to properly ride a horse, and I was about to have a lomo sandwich. May I offer you the same, or would you prefer something . . .”
“A lomo sandwich would be delightful, Alex.”
“With wine or beer?”
“Beer, please. And coffee.”
“Let’s go in the breakfast room,” Pevsner said, gesturing. “And would you mind if Alfredo joined us?”
“Not at all.”
“I thought he would like to hear what you have come to tell me.”
“What makes you think I’ve come to tell you anything?” Castillo asked.
Pevsner didn’t answer. He gestured for them to sit at a round, glass-topped table, and then left, presumably to order their lunch.
“So how do you like working for Alex, Alfredo?”
“It pays much better than SIDE did,” Munz replied. “How is your female agent?”
“Thank you for asking. She’s a lot better than she could be. I saw her a few days ago in Philadelphia.”
“And the Mastersons? Are they well? Safe?”
“They are being protected by twenty-four Delta Force shooters and half of the Mississippi gendarmeria.”
“I saw your President on television,” Munz said. “When he said ‘this outrage will not go unpunished.’”
“I saw that, too.”
“Would it be reasonable to assume that you’re somehow involved with doing that for him?”
“Where would you get an idea like that?”
“Where would Alfredo get an idea like what?” Pevsner asked as he came back into the breakfast room.
“The U.S. President promised he would punish those responsible for what he called ‘this outrage,’ the murders of Masterson and the sergeant . . .”
“The sergeant’s name was Markham,” Castillo interrupted. “Sergeant Roger Markham.”
“. . . and I asked Karl if he was involved.”
“And what did my friend Carlos say?”
“He asked me where I got an idea like that.”
“Aha!” Pevsner said. “So if you’re not involved in punishment, and you didn’t come here to tell me something, to what do I owe the honor?”
“I came here to borrow your helicopter for a couple of days,” Castillo said. “I just knew you’d be happy to loan it to me.”
Pevsner’s head snapped around to look at him.
After a moment, he said, “So he is alive and here.”
“Who’s alive and here?” Castillo asked.
“The man you asked Howard Kennedy to find for you.”
“Did Howard find him?”
“You know he didn’t, Carlos.”
“The word on the street in Paris and elsewhere in the old country is that he’s in either the Seine or the Danube.
Didn’t Howard tell you that? What was his name again?”
“Jean-Paul Lorimer, as you damned well know,” Pevsner said.
“You told me you’d never heard of him, when I asked you,” Castillo said.
“Sometimes it’s better not to know people’s names,” Pevsner replied. “I know who a lot of people are who do things. Sometimes I can’t put a name to them. I just know what they do.”
“That’s interesting,” Castillo said. “Can I take that as a ‘Yes, I’ll be happy to loan you my helicopter’?”
“Let me offer a hypothetical situation,” Pevsner said. “Let’s suppose someone came to you in Texas and said,
‘I want to borrow a horse. I have an errand to run.’ And you said, ‘But it’s raining and if I loan you my horse, you will get soaking wet, and maybe even get your death of cold and die. Why don’t you let me run your errand for you?’ Wouldn’t that make more sense?”
“Not if your idea of an errand is to send someone to the beauty parlor to put an Indian beauty