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“I don’t know,” Ramos said simply.
The woman went to the door, through it, closed it behind her, and then reappeared a moment later. She held the door open.
“The secretary will see you, gentlemen,” she said.
Ramos entered Perón’s office first, with Martín on his heels.
“Well, another unexpected pleasure,” Perón said, not rising from behind his desk. “We don’t often see you in uniform, General Martín.”
Martín ignored that, then announced: “Colonel Perón, by order of his Excellency, the President of the Argentine Republic, you are under arrest.”
“Et tu, Brutus?” Perón said to Ramos.
“For the love of God, Juan Domingo, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.”
“What are the charges?” Perón asked.
“Violations of the Code of Honor of the officer corps of the Ejército Argentino,” Martín said. “You will be apprised of the specifics at a later time.”
“You knew this was coming,” Ramos said. “I warned you it was coming.”
“Colonel, I will require your sidearm,” Martín said.
“And, as soon as I draw it from my holster, will you—with the greatest reluctance, of course—shoot me for resisting arrest?”
“And I told you this was for your protection,” Ramos said. “You may yet get shot, Juan Domingo, but not by General Martín or me.”
Perón didn’t reply.
With exaggerated delicate motions to show he had no intention of grabbing the weapon, Perón took a gleaming Luger 9mm Parabellum pistol from a shiny, form-fitting black leather holster and, using only his thumb and forefinger, held it in front of him.
“Take that, Montenegro,” Martín ordered. “See to it that there is no round in the chamber and give it to me.”
“That is a personal, rather t
han an issued, weapon,” Perón said. “It was a gift from el Coronel Jorge Frade. When we were at the Kriegsschule, we were given a tour of the Deutsche Waffen und Munitionsfabriken in Berlin. You remember, Eduardo?”
“I remember, Juan Domingo.”
“And they offered to sell us special Lugers, highly polished like that one, as presentation pieces.”
“And Jorge, who had been at the schnapps over lunch, said he would take a dozen,” Ramos said. “I remember. I have one just like that.”
“I wonder what happened to the others,” Perón said.
“They’re probably at Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo,” Ramos said.
“The weapon is now safe, mi General,” Montenegro reported.
“Give it to General Ramos, please,” Martín said. “He can return it to el Coronel Perón when this issue is over.”
“An unexpected courtesy, General,” Perón said. “Thank you.”
“Colonel, I take no pleasure in this,” Martín said. “I am here at the direct personal order of the president.”
“Of course you are,” Perón said sarcastically.
“Colonel,” Martín then began, “we now come to the question of transporting you to your place of confinement—”
