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“You saw him while surveilling Casa Montagna? Or perhaps as he went up and down Route 60?”

For a long moment it looked as if O’Reilley wasn’t going to reply, but then, as if he had carefully composed his reply before uttering it, he said, “I saw Don Cletus on several occasions while carrying out my lawful orders to report on any suspicious activity I saw here.”

“Lawful orders from el Coronel Klausberger, you mean?”

This time O’Reilley didn’t reply.

“Who else could issue an order like that but el Coronel Klausberger?” Martín asked. “Or did this ‘lawful order’ come from someone else? And if so, whom?”

It took a long time for O’Reilley to consider the answer he finally gave.

“Yes, sir. I was ordered to surveille Casa Montagna by el Coronel Klausberger.”

“And did el Coronel Klausberger order you to protect the SS men as they looked for, and ultimately found, a spot along Route 60 from which they could attack Don Cletus?”

O’Reilley didn’t reply.

“If I were in your shoes, O’Reilley, faced with the choice between lying and betraying your commander, I wouldn’t have answered that question either,” Martín said, almost kindly.

“May I suggest, General,” Frade said, “that you tell the captain that in the failed attempt on my life, all of the SS men involved died?”

“Don Cletus speaks the truth, Captain O’Reilley,” Martín said. “But I suggest it would not be wise for you to heave a sigh of relief because dead men tell no tales and thus you can’t be tied to them. We should know their identities shortly, in a matter of days.”

Again there was no response from O’Reilley.

“Cronley,” Martín said, “tell the captain how we are going to identify the SS men who tried to assassinate you and Don Cletus earlier today.”

How the hell am I going to do that?

He looked at Martín, who directed him with his eyes to the stack of dossiers Cronley was still in the process of straightening.

“Yes, sir,” Jimmy said. “Actually it’s quite simple.”

And I will explain how simple once I figure it out.

“We have dossiers, like these,” Jimmy said, holding one up.

“Who is ‘we’?” O’Reilley blurted.

“The U.S. Army,” Jimmy answered.

“Señor Cronley is Don Cletus’s liaison officer with the U.S. Army in Germany,” Martín clarified.

“He’s an American officer?” O’Reilley asked incredulously.

“Yes, I am,” Jimmy said. “We captured all the records of the SS, all their dossiers like this. They include photographs and fingerprints. Now as I understand how this is going to work, General Nervo’s people have photographed the people we killed and taken their fingerprints. The photographs and prints will be sent as priority cargo on SAA to Germany, where they will be matched with the SS dossiers. I think we’ll have answers in less than a week, and certainly in ten days.”

Jimmy looked at O’Reilley and decided, to his genuine surprise, that O’Reilley wasn’t questioning anything he had said.

“Thank you,” Martín said. “So, O’Reilley, these dead men will tell tales.”

O’Reilley didn’t reply.

“What I don’t understand, O’Reilley,” Martín said reasonably, “is why el Coronel Klausberger wanted to kill Don Cletus. He must know who he is.”

“I am afraid I do not know what that means, mi General.”

“Well, he’s one of el Coronel Perón’s closest advisers. You don’t know that? I’m sure Klausberger does.”