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“Have you been keeping Santini up to speed?”
Darby didn’t seem surprised or off ended at the lack of opening courtesy.
“I thought that was the thing to do,” he said.
“I want to meet with your boss,” Castillo said, “as soon as possible.”
“I think that’s a good idea. You want me there?”
“That’s why I asked about Santini. I’d rather you did the real estate.”
“Okay.”
“Could you take Sergeant Kensington and his radio out there with you? I’d like to get that set up as soon as possible.”
“Not a problem.”
“Where’s Yung?”
“Howell just called. Yung should be at Jorge Newbery in thirty minutes.”
“Can you have somebody—Solez, maybe, or Sieno—meet him and sit on him anywhere but where you are for a couple of ho
urs?”
“We are a little crowded here, aren’t we?” Darby replied. “Solez, I think. I’d rather have Sieno here.”
“Okay.”
“You want me to call our friend and tell him you’re coming? Hell, I don’t even know if he’s there.”
“I don’t want to go to his office.”
“Any reason?”
“I don’t want the Argentine rent-a-cops to recognize who I have with me.”
“Let me call him and see what he suggests. I’ll call you back.”
“Tell Tor and Davidson that Kocian is not to leave the apartment or make any telephone calls under any circumstances.”
“Okay. I’ll get right back to you, one way or the other.”
“¿Hola?”
“How long will it take you to make it to our friend’s house on Libertador?” Darby asked.
“Give me thirty minutes.”
“He’ll be waiting for you on the sidewalk. Drive past his office on the way.”
“You mention the rent-a-cops to him?”
“He understands.”
“I’ll be in touch,” Castillo said, broke the connection, and turned to look at Munz.
“I’ll get in the back again,” Munz said. “When we get close, pull onto a side road.”
