Page 91

That “courteous” response was intended to be menacing.

He’ll have to learn right now that he’s no longer in a position to menace anyone.

“Thank you,” Moreno said. “I have received from Banco Suisse Creditanstalt a list of people the Americans are looking for. It was provided to the Swiss border authorities. I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn, Herr Hoffmann, that you are on that list. I would be surprised if the names of the other SS officers who came here with you aren’t also on that list.

“For the moment, you are relatively safe here. For the moment.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Herr Hoffmann, but U-405 surrendered to the Armada Argentina early on the morning of nine October.”

“Surrendered?” Hoffmann asked. “I ordered von Dattenberg to scuttle his vessel.”

“Her captain?” Moreno asked, and when Hoffmann nodded curtly, went on, “Well, the vessel was surrendered intact. The BIS—the Bureau of Internal Security, Herr Hoffmann, corresponding to the former Sicherheitsdienst—”

“I know what the BIS is,” Hoffmann interrupted.

“As I was saying, the BIS was apparently notified. The same day U-405 surrendered, Brigadier General Martín, the head of BIS, flew to the Puerto Belgrano Naval Base and interrogated her captain. I understand the captain said that he had come directly from Germany—that, in other words, he denied any knowledge of putting anyone or anything ashore.

“I’m sure General Martín and Vicealmirante Crater did not believe him. And that it’s simply a matter of time before it comes out that U-405 did in fact put you, the other officers, and your cargo ashore—”

Klausberger interrupted: “Brigadeführer Hoffmann ordered this man to—”

Hoffmann silenced him with a raised palm.

Moreno went on: “—At which time, if not before, General Martín will turn his attention to you, el Coronel Klausberger. He is aware of your previous roles in assisting el Coronel Schmidt in bringing people and cargo from German submarines ashore, and, if I have to say this, General Martín does not like you.

“General Martín, Herr Hoffmann, is not only a very good intelligence officer, but a very powerful man. He has the ear of President Farrell. He does not need to ask for permission to carry out what he sees as his duty, and only President Farrell can tell him not to do so.

“You can therefore expect, el Coronel Klausberger, that the barracks of the Tenth Mountain Regiment in San Martín de los Andes—and any other place where he thinks fleeing German officers and what they brought with them might be concealed—will shortly be searched by BIS personnel.

“So far as the other German officers are concerned, I think they will be safe in the homes of the loyal Argo-Germans to which Señor Mueller arranged for them to be taken.

“The cargo—in other words, the currency, gold, other precious metals and diamonds, et cetera—is something else. Its discovery would mean not only its loss, but an intensification of the search for you and your officers.

“The obvious thing to do is twofold: You and your officers will have to remain in deep hiding for at least a month, possibly longer, until the search for you is, if not called off, then less intense. The cargo will have to be taken somewhere where it cannot be found. In my judgment, the most safe place for it is in the vaults of the Banco Suisse Creditanstalt in Buenos Aires, and its branches in Rosario, Mendoza, and elsewhere.

“To that end, when I heard you were here, I dispatched an armored car, with a crew that has worked for me for years and can be trusted, to San Martín de los Andes. I told the driver to drop off sufficient bank bags—you know the type, heavy leather and lockable—at

el Coronel Klausberger’s office.

“What I want you to do now, Klausberger, is go back to San Martín and load those bags with the contents of the crates. My driver will take the bags off your hands at noon tomorrow.”

Klausberger looked alarmed.

“I’ve cared for the . . . the special cargo . . . often before,” he protested. “I can see no reason . . .”

Moreno glanced at him, then turned to Hoffmann.

“I don’t wish to debate this, Herr Hoffmann,” Moreno said. “If you prefer to leave the ‘special cargo’ in Colonel Klausberger’s care, that’s fine with me. My armored car will return to Buenos Aires, you and el Coronel can deal with General Martín, and I will conclude that our relationship is over.”

“Over?” Hoffmann said softly.

“Over,” Moreno confirmed. “Bluntly, if our business relationship is going to continue, it will have to be on my terms. I have no intention of putting Banco Suisse Creditanstalt—or myself—at risk.”

“Now see here, Moreno!” Klausberger began, and was again silenced by Hoffmann’s raised palm.

“We will, of course, listen to your wise advice,” Hoffmann said. “But there is one question I hope you will have time to answer before you leave.”

“Which is?”