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“You’re referring to Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for Latin America Quiglette?”
Yung nodded. “Nice lady.”
“It was Mr. Quiglette who told you to tell me nothing of your special orders?”
“What special orders is that, sir?”
“The ones to keep me in the dark about what you were actually doing down here?”
“Yes, sir. But it wasn’t a question of not telling you specifically, sir. I was told that no one was to know what I was doing.”
“But you were aware that was highly extraordinary?”
“No, sir. I didn’t think anything about it. I’ve had other assignments where no one knew what I was really doing.”
“such `as?”
“Sir, I really can’t discuss anything like that.”
“And can you discuss why you were suddenly ordered out of here?”
“No, sir,” Yung said.
“Deputy Assistant Secretary Quiglette messaged me that you were coming back here, to take over the late Mr. Lorimer’s body, his assets, etcetera. Are you aware of that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then, presumably, you are aware of the circumstances of Mr. Lorimer’s death?”
Yung looked at the ambassador. Now, here’s where I’m going to have to start being deceptive and dishonest. Goddamn Castillo for getting me into this!
“I know he was murdered, sir, and that he was Mr. Masterson’s brother-in-law, but that’s about all.”
“I’m curious why the State Department felt it necessary to send someone down here to do what we’re perfectly capable of doing ourselves?” McGrory asked, but it was more of a statement than a question.
Yung answered it anyway: “I was given the impression, sir, that that came from the secretary herself.”
“You didn’t deal with the secretary herself?”
“No, sir. But I was led to believe that it was personal courtesy—maybe professional courtesy—probably both—on her part to Mr. Lorimer’s father, who is a retired ambassador.”
“But why you, Yung?”
“Because I was here, I suppose. I know Uruguay and the banks and people at the embassy.”
McGrory appeared to think that over, then nodded.
“That may well put you in a very delicate situation, Yung,” McGrory said.
“Sir?”
“As it does me, frankly, Yung,” McGrory said. “Could we go off the record a moment, do you think?”
“Yes, sir. Of course.”
“Not that you’re really keeping a record, of course. Just as a manner of speaking.”
“Yes, sir.”
