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“You work for him? Can I ask that?” Görner said.
“You can ask. No, I don’t work for him. He wishes that I did. The President told him no, I told him no, but Montvale doesn’t like no for an answer—”
“Karl,” Görner interrupted and then stopped.
Castillo smiled at him. “I read minds, you know. What you were about to ask is, ‘Why are you telling us this?’ And/or, ‘Aren’t you liable to get in trouble talking so freely to us?’ Am I close?”
Görner shook his head in disbelief and then nodded in resignation.
“I’m telling you because I think you should know certain things, and because both of you are on my short list”—he held up his left hand with the fingers spread widely and his right hand with three fingers held upward—“of people I trust absolutely. And, no, I won’t get in trouble. The President gave me the authority to tell anyone anything I want to tell them.”
Görner met his eyes for a moment and thought: He means that. He’s telling the truth. But I now understand there is a third reason. Karlchen has just put both Onkle Otto and Tante Gertrud in his pocket. And I think he knows that. My God, he’s so much like the old man!
“And the final reason I’m going to tell you about what I’m doing is because
I’m going to need your help and I want you to understand why I need that help; why you’re doing what I’m going to ask you to do.”
Görner started to speak, then stopped—Goddamn it, I have to say this—then said what was on his mind: “Karl, what we do here is publish newspapers, newspapers started by your great-great-grandfather. I can’t stand idly by while you turn it into a branch of the CIA.”
“The simple answer to that, Otto,” Castillo said, “is you’re right. It’s a newspaper. But let’s not forget, either, that I own Gossinger Beteiligungsgesellschaft, G.m.b.H.” He let that sink in a moment, then went on: “A more complicated answer is that I’ve thought about Grosspappa. And the Tages Zeitung newspapers. I’m not turning them into a CIA asset. For one thing, I don’t work for the CIA. And from all I remember about him, all I’ve heard about him, he was a very moral man. I think he would be as annoyed—as disgusted—with the greedy bastards behind this oil-for-food scandal as Eric Kocian is. And I think if he was still alive and Ignatz Glutz came to him with CIA tattooed on his forehead and said he was trying to do something about those greedy, murderous bastards, Grosspappa would have helped. Within certain boundaries, of course. Anyway, that’s the way I’m going to play it. Carlos Castillo is going to ask certain things of the Tages Zeitung and if Karl von und zu Gossinger thinks his grandfather would have given Castillo what he’s asking for, the Tages Zeitung is going to give it to him.”
“It says in the Bible, Karlchen, that a man cannot serve two masters,” Görner said.
“It also says in the Bible that Jonah was swallowed whole by a whale and lived through it,” Castillo said. “Aren’t you the man who told me to be careful about what you read? Not to believe something just because it’s in print?”
“‘Within certain boundaries’ covers a lot of ground, Karl,” Görner said, softly. “Who defines those boundaries?”
“I do. But it should also go without saying that if I step over the line, you are free to tell me how I am over that line.”
Görner stared at him intently for a long moment.
“The older I get, the more I believe in genetics,” he said, finally. “So I’m going to go with my gut feeling that there’s a hell of a lot more of Oberst Hermann Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger running through your veins than there is Texas cowboy, Colonel Carlos Castillo.”
Castillo didn’t reply.
“Tell me about Ambassador Montvale and his message,” Görner said.
“I have no idea what’s in Montvale’s message, but if it was really important he would have gotten it to me.”
“I don’t understand,” Frau Schröder said.
“If I go to Berlin to get the message, I’m a cute little dachshund answering its master’s whistle. Which is what he wants.”
“Oh,” she said, and then a moment later said, “But what if there is something important in the message?”
“If something important happened, Dick Miller would know what it was and he would have gotten through to me. But just to be sure, as soon as we get the money straightened out, I’m going to give Dick a call.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Görner asked. “About that money in the Liechtensteinische Landesbank?”
“Mostly.”
“What else?”
“I want all your notes, all your reporters’ notes, on oil for food,” Castillo said. “They will go no further than me. I really don’t work for the CIA, Otto. Or anybody but the President.”
Görner didn’t reply.
“Am I crossing the line, Otto?” Castillo asked, softly.
