"Gradny-Sawz has some difficulty with the Argentine version of the kleines fruhstiick," he said. "As a Viennese, he naturally believes Viennese pastry is the best in the world. More cream, more butter."
"And?"
"They make the same pastry here. Viennese make the same pastry here. Even the names in Spanish are the same. Except that if the Viennese recipe calls for six eggs, and two hundred grams of butter, here they use a dozen eggs and half a kilo of butter. It not only does terrible things to Gradny-Sawz's waistline, but causes him to question his most sacred belief in the superiority of all things Viennese."
Goltz smiled. "I knew Gradny-Sawz in Vienna," he said. "Before the Anschlusse."
"So I understand," von Lutzenberger said, and then, as the door opened, "Ah, here he is!"
Gradny-Sawz came into the room and gave a somewhat more correct Nazi salute than Goltz had done earlier.
"Heil Hitler!" he said. "Good morning, Herr Ambassador Graf."
Oberst Karl-Heinz Gr?ner, in civilian clothing, was on his heels. His only greeting was a curt bow of his head to the Ambassador.
"I've ordered coffee and some cake," von Lutzenberger said, neither ac-knowledging Gradny-Sawz's greeting nor returning his salute.
Gradny-Sawz then walked to a couch and settled himself comfortably on it. Gr?ner sat down beside him.
"Josef," Gradny-Sawz said, "you won't believe the pastry here. It's quite as good as in Vienna. Probably because it's made by Viennese."
Goltz and von Lutzenberger smiled at each other.
Von Lutzenberger's secretary, Fraulein Ingebord Hassell, wheeled in a cart loaded with pastries and a silver coffee service.
Gradny-Sawz looked it over without paying much notice to Fraulein Has-sell. She was a middle-aged spinster who wore her graying hair drawn tight against her skull and gathered in a bun at the nape of her neck.
"And even Schlagobers"-whipped cream-he said. "It's almost like being in Vienna."
The secretary went to the Ambassador first and then to each of the others in turn and poured coffee, adding sugar and spoonfuls of Schlagobers as directed. Finally, after awaiting pointed finger instructions, she slid pastries on plates and served them.
"That will be all, Fraulein Hassell, thank you," von Lutzenberger said when she was finished, "and no interruptions of any kind, please."
Fraulein Hassell smiled tightly and left the room.
Goltz set his coffee cup down, stood up, and went to von Lutzenberger.
"The first question we Germans always ask is 'by whose authority?'" he said with a smile. "This is my authority, Herr Ambassador Graf."
He handed him the envelope he had received from Reichsleiter Mart¡n Bormann at Wolf's Lair.
Von Lutzenberger opened the envelope, read the letter without any visible reaction, refolded it, replaced it in the envelope, and handed it back to Goltz.
"A remarkable document, Herr Standartenf?hrer," he said.
Goltz handed the envelope to Gr?ner.
Not to Gradny-Sawz, von Lutzenberger thought. Which means that Gradny-Sawz has already seen it.
"It should go without saying that what is said in this room goes no further," Goltz said.
"It's really a pity this is a secret document," Gr?ner said, handing it back to him. "With those signatures on it, it would bring a hell of a price from a dealer in signatures of the powerful."
"I'll keep it," Goltz said, "with that in mind, Herr Oberst. Perhaps after the war..."
There were polite chuckles. Gradny-Sawz's chuckle came a little after the Ambassador's.
"How may we assist you in your mission, Herr Standartenf?hrer?" von Lutzenberger asked.