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A light gray 1941 Plymouth was standing at the curb outside the railroad station. When the driver saw them coming he quickly got from behind the wheel and opened the rear door. The last time Mannhoffer had seen the driver was also at the SS headquarters. SS-Hauptsturmführer Konrad Forster, now known as Konrad Fassbinder, had been wearing his black uniform.

“This is Señor Mannhoffer, Fassbinder,” Richter said in Spanish.

“It’s good to see you again, sir,” Fassbinder said.

Their Spanish is fluent; they sound like they’ve been here all their lives.

I do not sound as if I’ve been here since 1917.

Richter put Mannhoffer’s suitcase in the trunk of the Plymouth and then got in beside him. The car pulled away from the railroad station.

“This is Avenida Libertador,” Richter said, gesturing. “Which we are now going to cross, pass through Plaza San Martín, and then turn right until we come to Avenida 9 Julio, where we will turn left. About halfway down 9 Julio we will come to the Colón Opera and the Obelisk. The Obelisk was built in 1936 by us—Siemens, working with Grün & Bilfinger—in thirty-one days.”

“Fascinating,” Mannhoffer said sarcastically. “And the apartment?”

“The apartment we’re going to is behind the opera on Calle Talcahuano.”

“Is it safe?” Mannhoffer asked.

“The embassy rented it for years. Its last occupants, before he deserted his post, was commercial attaché Wilhelm Frogger and his wife—”

“What do we know about them?” Mannhoffer interrupted.

“As far as I know, Herr Brigadeführer—”

Mannhoffer interrupted him again, this time angrily.

“That was the last time you will ever refer to me by my rank! You understand?”

“I beg your pardon, sir.”

After a significant, and icy, pause, Mannhoffer asked, “The Froggers?”

“As far as I know, señor, they are still at Frade’s estancia in Mendoza.”

“Isn’t Mendoza near the Andes?”

“Yes, sir. It is.”

“I was under the impression Frade’s estancia was somewhere near Buenos Aires.”

“He has more than one estancia, sir. This one, the one in Mendoza, Estancia Don Guillermo, is where he is holding the Froggers.”

“Estancias? How many estancias does Frade have?”

“I don’t know, sir. At least five. Probably more than that. Oberst Frade, the father, was a very wealthy man.”

“And this gottverdammt American son of his inherited them all?”

“Yes, sir. And all the veterans of the Húsares de Pueyrredón.”

“Explain that to me.”

“Oberst Frade, and his father before him, commanded the Húsares de Pueyrredón cavalry regiment. Most of the men in the regiment were from one of his estancias. When they completed their conscript service, or retired, they went back to their estancias. They have transferred their allegiance to the son. The result is what people are calling Frade’s Private Army. They protect him, his family, and all of his properties, including Estancia Don Guillermo.”

“These ex-soldiers are armed?” Mannhoffer asked incredulously.