"That changed. I came back here on my Argentine passport."
"But you're still OSS?"
"I'm still what?"
"Sorry."
Clete shrugged.
"I was asking as a friend, concerned for your welfare. You understand that, I hope?"
Clete nodded again.
"You can count on them trying to kill you, you know that?" Peter said.
"When I was in fighter school, the instructors kept harping, 'watch your back, watch your back, watch your back.' I didn't know what they were talking about then, but eventually I got pretty good at it."
He looked at his watch. It was quarter to one.
"I'll see Claudia in the morning," he said. "And Enrico. They should have an idea where my father would put something he didn't want anybody else to get at."
"I better go home," Peter said.
"I'll drop you."
"You go, I'll finish my drink, then catch a cab."
"OK."
"This might be a good place to meet, if we have to."
"Sure. What'll we call it, in case anybody is listening, as they probably will be."
"It's The Horse. Let's call it The Fish."
They looked at each other. Clete stood up and put out his hand.
"It's good to see you, amigo," he said. "But do me a favor, will you?"
"Certainly."
"Try to walk like a man when you leave. The waiter is three-quarters con-vinced that we're a pair of fairies."
"What the hell, we've been up here by ourselves, holding a whispered con-versation, doing everything but holding hands, what do you expect him to think?"
[FOUR]
Recoleta Plaza
Buenos Aires, Argentina
0145 10 April 1943
There was no answer when Clete rang the bell of Tony Pelosi's apartment in a run-down building in the heavily Italian La Boca* district.
He's probably out with Maria-Teresa, damn him!
Though Clete thought it was a dump, Tony had selected his apartment pri-marily because it was close to the Ristorante Napoli. Its proprietor, Se¤or Alberghoni, had a daughter named Maria-Teresa. Tony was in love... not a very smart thing for someone in Tony's line of work to be, Clete thought.