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“In the cooler, in the British Hospital on Avenida Italia. It was taken there for an autopsy. Chief Inspector Ordóñez of the federal police has promised me a copy of the autopsy report sometime today.”
“I’d like a copy of that, too, of course. And is there going to be any kind of a problem getting into the estancia?”
“Ordóñez has the estancia pretty well sealed off. He’d be the man to ask about that.”
“Well,” Howell suggested, “why don’t we go to my office, see if we can get him on the phone? And get out of Jim’s hair.”
“Just to be sure I know what’s going on here, this has the blessing of the ambassador, right?” Artigas asked.
“Yes, it does,” Howell said. He nodded toward the door. “Shall we go?”
“I’d like a brief word with you, Artigas,” Monahan said, then added for Howell, “It’ll take just a couple of seconds, Bob.”
“Certainly,” Howell said, smiling, and walked out of Monahan’s office. Yung followed him.
Both heard Monahan say, “Close the door, Jim,” and exchanged glances.
“I suspect Monahan just told him to report everything we do,” Howell said. “Does that make me paranoid?”
[FOUR]
Office of the Cultural Attaché
The Embassy of the United States of America
Lauro Miller 1776
Montevideo, República Oriental del Uruguay
1055 6 August 2005
There was no reason for Julio Artigas to report the substance of his conversation with Chief Inspector Ordóñez to Howell and Yung. Howell had punched the speakerphone button on his telephone and they had heard the entire conversation.
Howell spoke first: “Chief Inspector Ordóñez is certainly obliging, isn’t he?”
“Uruguayan courtesy,” Yung said. “Or professional courtesy. Maybe—probably—both.”
“I thought his offer of a Huey to fly us to the estancia was more than generous,” Howell said.
“And volunteering to go with us. That was rather nice of him,” Yung said.
“My cousin José is a very charming man,” Artigas said. “But what I think you two have to keep in mind is that he’s one smart cop.”
“Why do you think we should we keep that in mind, Julio?” Howell asked.
“Oh, come on,” Artigas said.
“Oh, come on what?” Howell replied.
“Something is going on here. I have no idea what. But you two do.”
“Really?” Howell asked. “What do you think is going on, Julio?”
“What I don’t think is that Lorimer was a drug dealer who got himself killed when a deal went wrong. And neither does José Ordóñez.”
“He told you that?” Yung asked.
“He didn’t have to. I know him pretty well.”
