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“Certainly.”
“I read something in the papers about some bodies—six, I recall—being found on an estancia somewhere here in Uruguay. What was that all about?”
“Our investigation concluded that was another drug deal that went wrong. Such an ugly business yet so common. The estancia owner apparently led a dual life as a drug dealer. I frankly doubt if we’ll ever be able to make an arrest. The case is closed, for all practical purposes.”
“Thank you very much.”
“Not at all,” he said, pumping Castillo’s hand. “Perhaps we’ll meet again under happier circumstances. Any friends of my dear friend Alfredo, so to speak, are friends of mine.”
“I’d like that,” Castillo said.
[EIGHT]
The Restaurant Kansas
Avenida Libertador
San Isidro
Buenos Aires Province, Argentina
2025 14 August 2005
Castillo waved the waiter over and called for the check.
“Why don’t you let me take care of that?” Ambassador Juan Manuel Silvio said. “I can charge it to my representation allowance.”
“Your pockets, sir, are nowhere near as deep as those of the Lorimer Charitable Trust, but thank you anyway. I’m really grateful to you for coming all the way out here to meet with us.”
“This is Argentina. The only other place you could have eaten before eight would have been one of the places in the port. Or a McDonald’s.”
“Not to ask a rude question, but isn’t this the place where they snatched Mr. Masterson?” Delchamps asked.
“In the parking lot,” Silvio said, pointing. “So in a way, this is ending where it began, I suppose.”
“But it’s not ended,” Castillo said. “Masterson’s murderers, for all I know, are still running around free.”
“But some of their peers, and their superiors, are no longer with us, are they?” Silvio said. “And some have left us under circumstances, God forgive me, that I consider entirely appropriate.”
Castillo’s cellular buzzed.
“Now what?” he muttered.
He took the phone from his pants pocket.
“¿Hola?” he said into it.
“I’m sorry I had to go back on my word, friend Charley.”
“You sonofabitch. You told me I could have him.”
“He knew too much about me to have him talking to you, Charley.”
“Fuck you, Alek!”
“And besides, I decided that five years of regular rape was not sufficient punishment for his betrayal of me.”
“Fuck you, again.”
