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“And why did Chief Inspector Ordóñez want you to do that, do you think?”
“He wanted to show me a photograph of one of the dead men, Mr. Ambassador.”
“And why would he do that?”
“Probably because the photograph was of one of the dead men standing in a wedding party with J. Winslow Masterson.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Probably because the photograph was of one of the dead men standing in a wedding party with J. Winslow Masterson.”
Now I have your attention, Artigas thought, you pompous little asshole!
“That’s difficult to believe,” Ambassador McGrory said after a moment. “You’re sure it was our Mr. Masterson?”
“Yes, sir, it was Jack the Stack, all right.”
“The late Mr. Masterson’s athletic accomplishments are long past. You don’t think it is disrespectful of you to refer to him that way?”
“No disrespect was intended, sir. I was a great admirer of Mr. Masterson.”
“Still, Artigas…” McGrory said, disapprovingly. He went on: “Do we know the name of the man in the photograph with Mr. Masterson?”
“Chief Inspector Ordóñez identified him to me as Señor Jean-Paul Bertrand, the owner of the estancia, sir.”
“And he was dead, you said?”
“Shot twice, sir. In the head.”
“By whom?”
“I have no idea, sir.”
“And you think your good friend Chief Inspector Ordóñez, if he had suspects in the case, would confide them to you?”
“Yes, sir, I think he would.”
“But he has not done so, has he?”
“What the chief inspector has done, sir, is to request our assistance.”
“What kind of assistance?”
“There were seven dead men in all, sir. Señor Bertrand and six others.”
“Who were they? Who killed them?”
“We have no idea, sir. There was no identification of any sort on their bodies. What the chief inspector has asked me to do, Mr. Ambassador, is to send their fingerprints to Washington to see if the FBI has them on file.”
Ambassador McGrory thought that over for a moment.
“I can see no problem with doing that,” he said, finally. “But what makes you—or Chief Inspector Ordóñez—think their fingerprints would be in the FBI’s files? These are not Americans, presumably.”
“We don’t know that, sir.”
“Is there any reason to think they might be?”
“No, sir. I don’t think there is. On the other hand, there is no reason to presume they are not.”
