she said. “ ‘Are you trying to tell me, Sylvia, that my source was lying to me?’ ”
“To which you respond, ‘I cannot vouch for your unnamed sources. I can only tell you what I have been told.’”
“To which they will respond, ‘Oh, bovine excreta, Sylvia,’ or words to that effect.”
“Sylvia, I’m sorry, but your splendid relations with the press are going to have to be sacrificed for operational requirements.”
“I was afraid of that,” she said. “The ambassador said I was to handle this any way you wanted.”
“The one thing I don’t need is my name, picture, or the words ‘Presidential Agent’ in the newspapers or on the tube.”
“Okay, you got it. But be warned, they’ll be looking for you. Since there are—with one exception—no other developments in the story, you—the President’s agent— are the story.”
“What’s the one exception?”
“Presuming the ambassador can get Mrs. Masterson to go along—he hasn’t asked her yet—the Argentines want to pin the Grand Cross of the Great Liberator on Jack’s casket, which at the time will be lying in state in the Catedral Metropolitana. If she goes along—and she might not; if I were her I think I’d tell the Argentines to go piss up a rope—that will be a spectacle. The press— especially TV—likes spectacles, and that may get some of the heat off you.”
“I was about to go to the German Hospital,” Castillo said.
“You got somebody from SIDE with you who can get you in the back door? Otherwise be prepared for celebrity.”
“How will they know what I look like?”
“The leak about the President’s agent was intentional. I think it follows they would have also leaked a description.”
“You have any idea who the leaker is?”
“If I had to bet, I’d bet it was one of the law enforcement types . . .”
Yeah, Castillo thought, and I’ll bet the bastard’s name is Yung.
“. . . but nothing more specific than that. If I can get the name, you want it?”
“Indeed I do.”
“I was hoping you would.”
“Why?”
“Because I ran out of imagination after I thought castration would be a suitable punishment for the sonofabitch, and I’m sure you can think of something more exquisitely painful.”
“Indeed I can.”
“Stay in touch, please, Mr. X.”
“Thanks, Sylvia.”
Castillo put the cellular in his trousers pocket, whereupon it immediately rang again.
Now what the hell does she want?
“Yes, Sylvia?”
“Actually, this is Juan Silvio.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“Before I get into this, I presume Ms. Grunblatt did get in touch with you?”
“Yes, sir. I just got off the line with her.”
“I guess she told you there’s been a leak?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry. I’d really like to know who did it.”
“So would I.”
“Did Sylvia also tell you the Argentine government wants to honor Mr. Masterson both by having him lie in state in the cathedral, and by posthumously decorating him with the Grand Cross of the Great Liberator?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I didn’t think I had the right to agree to either without talking to both you and Mrs. Masterson. And I think we should talk this over before I broach the subject to her.”
“Sir, I was just about to go to the hospital. I want to introduce Special Agent Schneider to Mrs. Masterson. She’s the female agent I asked be sent down here. And I have Colonel Torine, who flew the C-17 down here, with me. I thought he might be able to reassure Mrs. Masterson about the travel arrangements. Which brings up something else, sir. Colonel Torine informed me the President wants to inter Mr. Masterson at Arlington, and—”
“All of which suggests that we should talk, and not on the telephone, as soon as possible.”
“I’m at your disposal, sir.”
“Since we both are going to the hospital, why not there? I’m sure we could find someplace there to talk.”
“You tell me when and where, sir.”
“The hospital in thirty, thirty-five minutes. Can you do that?”
“I’ll see you there, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Castillo broke the connection, looked at the cellular for a moment, and then pushed an autodial button.
“¿Sí?”
“Alfredo?
“Sí.”
“Karl, Alfredo. I need a service.”
“Whatever I can do, Karl.”
“I’m on my way to the German Hospital. Someone at the American embassy not only got the crazy idea that there is some sort of White House agent down here, and that I am that agent, but he told the press.”
“Herr Gossinger, you mean?”
“Probably Castillo. Anyway, I understand that the press is all over the hospital . . .”
“Then, my friend, I suggest you stay away from the hospital.”
“I have to see Mrs. Masterson; and the ambassador’s going to meet me there.”
There was just a moment’s