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“Got you working the radio, do they, Jack?” Castillo asked, in a strange tongue Inspector Davidson had never heard before. He had no idea what it was but it wasn’t Hungarian.
“That’s not Hungarian!” Doherty accused.
Castillo looked at him and softly said, in English, “Actually, Inspector, it’s Pashto, one of the two major languages spoken in Afghanistan, the other being Afghan Persian.”
Delchamps and Miller smiled and shook their heads.
Castillo turned to the radio and, switching back to Pashto, said, “Do you know if the old man’s up yet, Jack?”
The reply came in Pashto: “That’s why I’m working the radios, Colonel. Kocian and Kensington are kicking the soccer ball for Max. I was, but that big sonofabitch knocked me on my ass and I quit.”
“I need to talk to the old man right now.”
“Hold one, Colonel.”
“Tell him to speak Hungarian,” Castillo ordered, looking at Doherty and smiling.
“Will do. Hold one.”
“I wondered if I was ever going to hear from you, Karlchen,” Eric Kocian said, in Hungarian. “And I am not surprised that you called ninety seconds before Max and I are to have our breakfast.”
“Uncle Billy, did you ever see one of those books, Windows for Dummies, Microsoft Word for Dummies?”
“You called me on your science fiction radio and are making me late for breakfast to ask a stupid question like that?”
Delchamps laughed and said, “I think I like this guy,” which caused Inspector Doherty to realize that Delchamps spoke Hungarian and caused him further discomfiture.
“It’s important or I wouldn’t have interfered with Max’s breakfast,” Castillo said. “What I need is a lecture: ‘How the Oil-for-Food Scam Worked for Dummies.’” He switched to English. “And give it to me in English and slow, because we have a man here who’s going to write it down—make a chart of it—on a blackboard.”
“I have the strangest feeling this odd request of yours is important to you,” Kocian said, in English.
“One can sense an enormous feeling of relief on the part of our FBI coconspirator,” Delchamps said, in Hungarian.
Castillo chuckled.
Doherty picked up on the “FBI” and glared at Delchamps, which caused Castillo to chuckle again.
“It’s very important to us, Uncle Billy,” Castillo said, in Hungarian. “I think we’re getting close.”
“I thought we were going to speak English,” Kocian said, also in Hungarian. “Make up your mind, Karlchen!”
“I really like this guy!” Delchamps said. “Make up your mind, Ace!”
“English, please, Uncle Billy,” Castillo said, in English. “We believe that an American company in Midland, Texas, a small broker, is involved. I need to know how likely that would be, who he had to pay off, and how that was done.”
There was a perceptible pause as Kocian gathered his thoughts.
“Remember the first time we did this, Karl, in the bath at the Gellért? Let’s try that again. It worked for the dummies the first time.”
“Unsheath your Magic Marker, please, Inspector,” Castillo said.
“I’m supposed to put what this guy says on my blackboards?”
“Yes, you are,” Castillo said. “Go ahead, Uncle Billy.”
“Draw a rough map of Iraq on the blackboard,” Kocian ordered. “Down off the lower right corner, draw in the Persian Gulf. Put a dot on the Iraqi coast and label that Mahashar. That’s the major Iraqi oil terminal. I’ll spell that for you.”
Doherty drew the map as ordered.
