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And then, to cover his ass—or perhaps he wanted a witness when he caught me smuggling something into Argentina—Martín called Perón, and Tío Juan called the estancia and told Enrico.
The radios I can explain.
But how do I explain the SIGABA device?
Frade waved cheerfully out the window to Perón and Martín as Delgano taxied the Lodestar up to the hangar South American Airways had rented until the hangars—and the runways—being built in Morón were completed.
Frade was first out the door.
“Where’s the brass band?” he called as he walked to Perón and Martín. “You two are all we get? No crescendo of trumpets, no roll of drums?”
The intended humor failed. Both Martín and Perón looked confused.
He kissed Tío Juan, then—what the hell!—Martín.
“A pleasant flight, Cletus?” Perón asked.
Delgano answered for him.
“Two hours and sixteen minutes from Pôrto Alegre, mi coronel,” he proclaimed. “At an average speed of three hundred forty!”
“That fast? You were trying to set a record?”
“No, actually, we didn’t try to do anything but get here safely,” Frade said.
“It is a beautiful machine,” Perón said.
“Would you like to see the inside, mi coronel?” Delgano said.
“I would, thank you,” Martín said.
Len Fischer came down the stairs.
“This is Mr. Fischer, of the Collins Radio Corporation,” Frade said. “He’s here to set up our base station radios.”
Perón smiled politely. Martín didn’t seem to be surprised to see him.
“We might as well unload them, Fischer,” Frade said. “They’ll have to pass through customs.”
Two customs officers were standing not far away.
That was your cue, Tío Juan, to say, “Oh, that won’t be necessary.”
“I’d like to see those myself,” Martín said.
Okay. A communications radio is a radio. Radios look like radios. And I made sure I told Delgano we were bringing in two radios.
But the SIGABA? How the hell am I going to be able to explain that?
“Can we get some help?” Frade asked.
Tío Juan snapped his fingers, and the older of the customs officers quickly walked to him.
“Be so good as to help this gentleman remove some cargo,” Perón said.
Two minutes later, six large wooden crates and a smaller one sat on the tarmac.
The crates had latches. Opening the first of the large ones was simple and quick.
