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“Úr Gossinger, we are both very concerned about Úr Kocian’s safety. I can do my job better if I am not in the dark.” He paused and waited until he understood Castillo was not going to reply, then went on: “Forgive an old policeman for not believing you are who you say you are, Úr Gossinger.”
Well, he had to be told sooner or later.
“I’m an American intelligence officer.”
The nod Tor made automatically told Castillo he wasn’t surprised.
“CIA?”
Castillo shook his head. “No.”
Sándor Tor visibly didn’t believe that.
“And what is your interest in Úr Kocian?”
“Right now, to keep him alive,” Castillo said, and then, gesturing for Tor to follow him, added, “Come with me, please.”
Castillo led him into Kocian’s bedroom and pointed to the photograph of Eric Kocian holding his mother’s and his uncle Willi’s hands.
“That’s my mother as a girl. And,” he went on, pointing to the pictures of him holding his mother’s hand, “that’s her as a young woman and me as a boy.”
Tor looked at the photographs, then at Castillo, and pointed to the photo of Castillo with the newly awarded medals on his tunic.
“And you were a soldier. So was I.”
“I am a soldier. Lieutenant colonel.”
“I suppose that would explain the marksmanship,” Tor said. “But this raises more questions than it answers.”
“When there is time, I will try to answer those questions. But for now, my government is interested in what Úr Kocian has learned about the oil-for-food scandal.”
“Enough, obviously, for those involved to send these scumbags to kill him.”
“First to find out how much he knows and then to kill him.”
“He told me that the night they tried to kidnap him on the bridge,” Tor said.
“He tell you anything else?”
“He said he had files here in the apartment.”
“Did he say where?”
Tor shook his head. “He said he didn’t want me to know.”
“Well, he can tell us in the morning.”
“And how are we going to protect him after that?”
“In my business, there are times when you have to trust your gut feeling about somebody,” Castillo said. “And tell him things that just might come around and bite you on the ass.”
“I know,” Tor said, simply. “And what is your gut feeling about me?”
“In a couple of hours, an airplane will land at Ferihegy Airport. After we get Úr Kocian out of the hospital here, and he has his files, I’m going to take him to Argentina in it.”
“Argentina is halfway around the world,” Tor said. “It must be quite an airplane.”
“A Gulfstream III,” Castillo furnished.
