“I didn’t see any swastika, Dad,” she said.
The Old Man looked at his daughter-in-law. “You know what’s going on, don’t you?” he challenged.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dad,” she said.
“The hell you don’t,” the Old Man said. “God damn it, Martha!”
“Hey!” Martha Howell said warningly.
“And I’m expected to believe the old guy’s carrying that shotgun to bag a few quail for dinner, right?”
“Dad, Enrico blames himself for what happened to Clete’s father,” Martha Howell said. “Clete doesn’t have the heart to run him off.”
His disbelief showed on his face. “And he had those binoculars handy in case Clete wanted to go bird-watching, right?”
“Let it go, Dad!” Martha Howell said, almost threateningly.
“I’m an old man, and in my lifetime I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but not one of them holds a candle to the one I made when I got suckered into getting my family involved in helping the goddamn OSS.”
“Since we’re telling all our family secrets, grandfather, why don’t you tell Father Welner those are stolen binoculars?” Clete said.
Welner looked surprised.
“You think he’s kidding, don’t you?” the Old Man said. “They are. They were stolen from the U.S. Navy, and Clete bought them, knowing damned well they were stolen, from a hockshop in New Orleans.”
“I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Clete said.
“The hell you don’t! You boasted about it!”
By then they had walked back to the gazebo. The empanadas had been replaced with the main course, a bife de chorizo (the Argentine version of a New York strip steak) on a bed of spinach and mushrooms.
“Oh, isn’t that attractive!” Martha Williamson Howell said.
The Old Man looked down suspiciously at his plate.
“What the hell is that? Spinach?” he asked.
“God, I hope so!” Clete said, which triggered giggles in the girls.
The Old Man looked at them indignantly.
He’s old, Martha thought. Very old. And when he’s gone, Clete will be the only man in the family.
“If you don’t like it, don’t eat it,” she said.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to eat it. But that’s a hell of a way to serve a steak. They’re really strange, these people down here.” He looked at Welner. “No offense, Father.”
“None taken, Mr. Howell,” Welner said.
V
[ONE]
Estancia Santo Catalina
Near Pila, Buenos Aires Province
1355 1 May 1943