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Roscoe took out his wallet and started to look for his White House press pass.
The third man snatched the wallet from his fingers and handed it and the passport to Liam Duffy.
“My press passes are in there,” Roscoe said. “Including my White House—”
Duffy silenced him with a raised hand, examined the passport and the contents of the wallet, and then handed all of it to Darby.
Then he made another gesture, patting his chest with both hands.
The two men standing beside him instantly started to pat down Roscoe, finally signaling that he was clean except for a wad of currency, a sheaf of papers, several ballpoint pens, a box of wooden matches, and two cigars. They handed everything to Duffy.
“How did you happen to come to this address, Mr. Danton?” Darby asked, courteously.
Roscoe decided to tell the truth.
“I saw the for-sale ad, for the BMW, in the daily bulletin at the embassy,” he said. He pointed to the sheaf of papers.
“What were you doing at the embassy?”
“I went there to see if they could point me at you.”
“Why would you want to be pointed at me?”
“I told you, Eleanor Dillworth said you would be helpful.”
“In what way?”
“That you could point me toward Colonel Carlos Castillo.”
“I know no one by that name. An Argentine Army officer?”
“An American officer, Mr. Darby,” Roscoe replied, stopping himself at the last second from saying, As you fucking well know.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, Mr. Danton,” Darby said. “But apparently someone has given you incorrect information. I’m sorry you’ve been inconvenienced. How did you get here?”
“In a taxi.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The Plaza Hotel.”
“Well, the least we can for you is give you a ride back there,” Darby said. “We can do that, can’t we, Liam?”
“Absolutely,” Liam said.
“Nice to have met you, Mr. Danton,” Darby said, and gestured toward the door.
“Likewise,” Roscoe Danton snapped sarcastically. “And I’ll pass on the free ride, thank you just the same.”
Comandante General Liam Duffy locked eyes with Danton, and evenly said, “Let me explain something to you, Señor. There are some irregularities with your documents—”
“What kind of irregularities?” Danton interrupted angrily.
Duffy ignored him. He went on: “I’m sure they can be quickly cleared up. Possibly even today and certainly by the morning. Our usual procedure is taking people with irregular documents to our headquarters. Then we would notify the U.S. embassy and ask them to verify your documents. Sometimes, they can do that immediately. In the case of someone like yourself, a distinguished journalist, I’m sure they would go out of their way to hasten this procedure—”
“Call the public affairs officer,” Danton interrupted again. “Sylvia Grunblatt. She knows who I am.”
Duffy ignored him again. “—and by late today, or certainly by tomorrow morning, a consular officer would come by our headquarters, verify the legitimacy of your documents, which would then be returned to you and you could go about your business.
