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“Or mine,” von Lutzenberger said. “I’m as culpable as they are.”

And so you are, Your Excellency, Cranz thought.

You are nobly accepting responsibility for something over which you had no control, and could not be expected to, with a senior Sicherheitsdienst officer—now conveniently dead—in charge of that sort of thing.

The proof of that came immediately.

“Your Excellency,” von Deitzberg said smoothly, “I admire your position, but I respectfully suggest that if Oberst Grüner—an expert in these matters— could not detect this traitor, you really couldn’t be expected to.”

Now he’s “Your Excellency”?

And you “respectfully suggest,” von Deitzberg?

You’re now friends, are you?

“I am the ambassador of the German Reich, Herr Generalmajor, and responsible for everything that happens—or doesn’t happen—on my watch,” von Lutzenberger said. “But, readily acknowledging your expertise in these areas, may I ask what you suggest we do now?”

And if you go along with that, von Deitzberg, won’t that dump the responsibility for whatever happens next in your lap? I know you’re too smart not to see that.

So the question becomes, How are you going to react? As a professional, and agree with von Lutzenberger that the responsibility is in fact his? Or will your ego take over?

Von Deitzberg took a moment to reply. When he finally did, Cranz thought his ego had overridden his common sense.

“Let’s consider other possibilities before we decide on a course of action,” von Deitzberg said. “And, please, feel free to interrupt me at any time.”

“Jawohl, Herr Generalmajor,” Cranz said.

“The first question, it would seem to me,” von Deitzberg began, “is, Where is this swine? Did he just put his wife on a train and go somewhere? Or— and we know he had to plan for this—are the English or the Americans perhaps involved?”

“Frogger was of course under routine security surveillance,” von Lutzenberger said. “And Gradny-Sawz and I read all of the reports that Schneider and others submitted to Grüner. There was nothing that ever suggested any contact with the Americans or the English. Isn’t that so, Gradny-Sawz?”

“I never saw anything, Your Excellency.”

“His social life, such as it was,” von Lutzenberger went on, “was limited to participation in activities of the German community. The Froggers were Protestant and regularly attended church services at the German community church—”

“Where, so far as we know, the man on his knees next to them,” Cranz interrupted, “might well have been from MI-5, right? Or the OSS?”

“More likely MI-5, Karl,” von Deitzberg said. “I don’t think the Americans are that smart.”

Cranz chuckled his agreement.

I’m now “Karl,” am I, Herr SS-Brigadeführer von Deitzberg?

Well, since we are now friends and dealing with a common problem, I will not argue with your assessment of the ability of the OSS by saying the Americans were smart enough to find and sink the Reine de la Mer.

“Frogger,” von Deitzberg went on, “was obviously far more clever than even Oberst Grüner thought. I don’t think, therefore, that we stand much chance at all of locating them by ourselves. It would be my recommendation, Your Excellency, that we report they are missing to the Argentine authorities.”

“And what will we tell the Argentine authorities?” Cranz asked.

The ambassador said, “What we know for sure: that they are missing. And we are naturally concerned for their safety.”

“Mentionin

g nothing about their possibly having deserted?” Gradny-Sawz asked.

It earned him a withering glare from von Deitzberg.

“We don’t know that they have deserted, do we?” von Deitzberg said. “For all we know, Gradny-Sawz, they may have been stolen by gypsies or taken bodily into heaven.”