it's criminal that his resources make him acceptable to London and New
York.'
'Perhaps necessary is a more appropriate term.'
'I'm sure that's the rationalization, at any rate.'
'It's mine.'
'Of course. Forgive an old man's obsolete limits of necessity. But we have
no quarrel. You have an assignment. What can I do for you? I understand
it's very little.'
'Very little indeed, sir. Just have me- listed on the embassy index; any
kind of office space will do as long as it has a door and a telephone. And
I'd like to meet your cryp. I'll have codes to send.'
'My word, that sounds ominous,' said Granville, smiling without humor.
'Routine, sir. Washington relay; simple Yes and Nos.'
'Very well. Our head cryptographer, is named Ballard. Nice fellow; speaks
seven or eight languages and is an absolute whiz at parlor games. You'll
meet him directly. What else?'
'I'd like an apartment 9
'Yes, we know,' interrupted Granville gently, snatching a brief look at the
wall clock. 'Mrs. Cameron has scouted one she thinks you'll approve ... ~.
Of course, Washington gave us no indication of your length of stay. So Mrs.
Cameron took it for three months.'
'That's far too long. 1911 straighten it out.... I think that's almost all,
Mr. Ambassador. I know you're in a hurry.'
'I'm afraid I am.'
David got out of his chair, as did Granville. 'Oh, one thing, sir. Would
this Ballard have an embassy index? I'd like to learn the names here.'
'There aren't that many,' said Granville, leveling his gaze at David, a
subtle note of disapproval in his voice. 'Eight or ten would be those you'd
normally come in contact with. And I can assure you we have our own
security measures.'
David accepted the rebuke. 'That wasn't my point, sir. I really do like to
familiarize myself with the narnes.'
'Yes, of course! Granville came around the desk and walked Spaulding to the
door. 'Chat with my secretary for a few minutes.
218
I'll get hold of Ballard; he'll show you around!
'Thank you, sir.' Spaulding extended his hand to Granville, and as he did
so he realized for the first time how tall the man was.
'You know,' said the ambassador, releasing David's hand, 'there was a
question I wanted to ask you, but the answer will have to wait for another
time. I'm late already.'
'What was that?'
'I've been wondering why the boys on Wall Street and the Strand sent you.
I can't imagine there being a dearth of experienced bankers in New York or
London, can you?'
. 'There probably isn't. But then I'm only a liaison carrying messages;
information best kept private, I gather. I have had experience in those
areas ... in a neutral country.'
Granville smile d once more and once more there was no humor conveyed.
'Yes, of course. I was sure there was a reason.'
t
219
23
Ballard shared two traits common to most cryptographers, thought David. He
was a casual cynic and a fount of information. Qualities, Spaulding
believed, developed over years of deciphering other men's secrets only to
find the great majority unimportant. He was also cursed with the first name
of Robert, by itself acceptable but when followed by Ballard, invariably
reduced to Bobby. Bobby Ballard. It had the ring of a 1920s socialite or the
name in a cereal box cartoon.
He was neither. He was a linguist with a mathematical mind and a shock of
red hair on top of a medium-sized, muscular body; a pleasant man.
'That's our home,' Ballard was saying. 'You've seen the working sections;
big, rambling, baroque and goddamned hot this time of year. I hope you're
smart and have your own apartment.'
'Don't you? Do you live hereT
'It's easier. My dials are very inconsiderate, they hum at all hours.
Better than scrambling down from Chacarita or Telmo. And it's not bad; we
stay out of each other's way pretty much.'
'Oh? A lot of you hereT
'No. They alternate. Six, usually. In the two wings, east and south.
Granville has the north apartments. Besides him, Jean Cameron and I are the
only permanents. You'll meet Jean tomorrow, unless we run into her on the
way out with the old
220
man. She generally goes with him to the diplobores.'
'The whatT
'Diplo-bores. The old man's word ... contraction. I'm surprised he didn't
use it with you. He's proud of it. Diplobore is an embassy duty bash.' They
were in a large empty reception room; Ballard was opening a pair of French
doors leading out onto a short balcony. In the distance could be seen the
Nxaters of the Rio de la Plata and the estuary basin of the Puerto Nuevo,
Buenos Aires' main port. 'Nice view, isn't it?'
'Certainly is.' David joined the cryptographer on the balcony. 'Does this
Jean Cameron and the ambassador ... I mean, are they ... ?'
'Jean and the old manT Ballard laughed loud and goodnaturedly. 'Christ, no!
... Come to think of it, I don't know why it strikes me so funny. I suppose
there're a lot of people who think that. And that's funny.'
GWhy?t
'Sad-funny, I guess I should say,' continued Ballard without interruption.
'The old man and the Cameron family go back to the original Maryland money.
Eastern Shore yacht clubs, blazer jackets, tennis in the morning - you
know: diplomat territory. Jean's family was part of it, too. She married
this Cameron; knew him since they could play doctor together in their
Abercrombie pup tents. A rich-people romance, childhood sweethearts. They
got married; the war came; he chucked his law books for a TBF - aircraft
carrier pilot. He was killed in the Leyte Gulf. That was last year. She
went a little crazy; maybe more than a little.'
'So the ... Granville brought her down here?'
'That's right.'
'Nice therapy, if you can afford it.'
'She'd probably agree with that.' Ballard walked back into the reception
room; Spaulding followed. 'But most people will tell you she pays her dues
for the treatment. She works damned hard and knows what she's doing. Has
rotten hours, too; what with the diplobores.'
'Where's Mrs. GranvilleT
'No idea. She divorced the old man ten, fifteen years ago.'
'I still say it's nice work if you can get it.' David was thinking, in an
offhand way, of several hundred thousand other women whose husbands had
been killed, living with reminders every day. He dismissed his thoughts;
they weren't his concerns.
221
'Well, she's qualified.'
'WhatT David was looking at a rococo-styled comer pillar in the wall, not
really listening.
'Jean spent four years - off and on - down here as a kid. Her father was in
Foreign Service; probably would have been an ambassador by now if held
stuck with it.... Come on, I'll show you the office Granville assigned you.
Maintenance should have it tidied up by now,' Ballard smiled.
'You've been employing a diversion,'laughed David, following the cryp out
the door into another h
allway.
'I had to. You've got a room in the back. So far back it's been used for
storage, I think.'
'Obviously I made points with Granville.'
'You sure did. He can't figure you out.... Me? I don't try.' Ballard turned
left into still another intersecting hallway. 'This is the south wing.
Offices on the first and second floors; not many, three on each. Apartments
on the third and fourth. The roof is great for sunbathing, if you like that
sort of thing.'
'Depends on the company, I suppose.'
The two men approached a wide staircase, preparing to veer to the left
beyond it, when a feminine voice called down from the second landing.
'Bobby, is that youT
.It's Jean,' said Ballard. 'Yes,' he called out. 'I'm with Spaulding. Come
on down and meet the new recruit with enough influence to get his own
apartment right off.'
'Wait'll he sees the apartmentV
Jean Cameron'came into sight from around the comer landing. She was a
moderately tall woman, slender and dressed in a floorlength cocktail gown
at once vivid with color yet simple in design. Her light brown hair was
shoulder length, full and casual. Her face was a combination of striking
features blended into a soft whole; wide, alive blue eyes; a thin, sharply
etched nose; lips medium full and set as if in a half-smile. Her very clear
skin was bronzed by the Argentine sun.
David saw that Ballard was watching him, anticipating his reaction to the
girl's loveliness. Ballard's expression was humorously sardonic, and
Spaulding read the message: Ballard had been to the font and found it empty
-for those seeking other than a few drops of cool water. Ballard was now a
friend to the lady; he knew better than to try being anything else.
222
Jean Cameron seemed embarrassed by her introduction on the staircase. She
descended rapidly, her lips parted into one of the most genuine smiles
David had seen in years. Genuine and totally devoid of innuendo.
'Welcome,' she said, extending her hand. 'Thank heavens I have a chance to
apologize,before you walk into that place. You may change your mind and
move right back here.'
'It's that bad?' David saw that Jean wasn't quite as young at close range
as she seemed on the staircase. She was past thirty; comfortably past. And
she seemed aware of his inspection, the approbation - or lack of it -
unimportant to her.
'Oh, it's all right for a limited stay. You can't get anything else on that
basis, not if you're American. But it's small.'
Her handshake was firm, almost masculine, thought Spaulding. 'I appreciate
your taking the trouble. I'm sorry to have caused it.'
'No one else here could have gotten you anything but a hotel,' said
Ballard, touching the girl's shoulder; was the contact protective? wondered
David. 'The portehos trust Mother Cameron. Not the rest of us.'
'Portefios,' said Jean in response to Spaulding's questioning expression,
'are the people who live in BA .....
'And BA - don't tell me - stands for Montevideo,' replied David.
'Aw, they sent us a bright one,' said Ballard.
'You'll get used to it,' continued Jean. 'Everyone in the American and
English settlements calls it BA. Montevideo, of course,' she added,
smiling. 'I think we see it so often on reports, we just do it
automatically!
'Wrong,' interjected Ballard. 'The vowel juxtaposition in "Buenos Aires" is
uncomfortable for British speech.'
'That's something else you'll learn during your stay, Mr. Spaulding,' said
Jean Cameron, looking affectionately at Ballard. 'Be careful offering
opinions around Bobby. He has a penchant for disagreeing!
'Never so,' answered the cryp. 'I simply care enough for my fellow
prisoners to want to enlighten them. Prepare them for the outside when they
get paroled.'
I "Well, I've got a temporary pass right now, and if I don't get over to the
ambassador's office, he'll start on that damned address system.... Welcome
again, Mr. Spaulding.'
223
'Please. The names David! ,
-'Nfine's Jean. Bye,' said the girl, dashing down the hallway, calling back
to Ballard. 'Bobby? You've got the address and the key? For ... David's
place?'
'Yep. Go get irresponsibly drunk, I'll handle everything!
Jean Cameron disappeared through a door in the right wall.
'She's very attractive,' said Spaulding, 'and you two are good friends. I
should apologize for. . .'
'No, you shouldn't,' interrupted Ballard. 'Nothing to apologize for. You
formed a quick judgment on isolated facts. I'd've done the same, thought
the same. Not that you've changed your mind; no reason to, really!
'She's right. You disagree ... before you know what you're disagreeing to;
and then you debate your disagreement. And if you go on, you'll probably
challenge your last position!
'You know what? I can follow that. Isn't it frightening?'
'You guys are a separate breed,' said David, chuckling, following Ballard
beyond the stairs into a smaller corridor.
'Let's take a quick look at your Siberian cubicle and then head over to
your other cell. It's on C6rdoba; we're on Corrientes. It's about ten
minutes from here.'
David thanked Bobby Ballard once again and shut the apartment door. He had
pleaded exhaustion from the trip, preceded by too much welcome home in New
York - and God knew that was the truth - and would Ballard take a raincheck
for dinner?
Alone now, he inspected the apartment; it wasn't intolerable at all. It was
small: a bedroom, a sitting room-kitchen, and a bath. But there was a
dividend Jean Cameron hadn9t mentioned. The rooms were on the first floor,
and at the rear was a tiny brickleveled patio surrounded by a tall concrete
wall, profuse with hanging vines and drooping flowers from immense pots on
the ledge. In the center of the enclosure was a gnarled fruit-bearing tree
he could not identify; around the trunk were three ropewebbed chairs that
had seen better days but looked extremely comfortable. As far as he was
concerned, the dividend made the dwelling.
Ballard had pointed out that his section of the Avenida C6rdoba was just
over the borderline from the commercial area, the 'downtown' complex of
Buenos Aires. Quasi residential, yet near enough to stores and restaurants
to be easy for a newcomer.
-224
David picked up the telephone; the dial tone was delayed but eventually
there. He replaced it and walked across the small room to the refrigerator,
an American Sears Roebuck. He opened it and smiled. The Cameron girl had
provided - or had somebody provide - several basic items: milk, butter,
bread, eggs, coffee. Then happily he spotted two bottles of wine: an Orfila
tinto and a Col6n blanco. He closed the refrigerator and went back into the
bedroom.
He unpacked his single suitcase, unwrapping a bottle of Scotch, and
remembered that he'd have to buy additional clothes in the morning. Ballard
had offered to go with him to a men's shop in the Calle Florida - if his
goddamned dials w
eren't 'humming.' He placed the books Eugene Lyons had
given him on the bedside table. He had gone through two of them; he was
beginning to gain confidence in the aerophysicists' language. He would need
comparable studies * in German to be really secure. He would cruise around
the bookshops in the German settlement tomorrow; he wasn't looking for
definitive texts, just enough to understand the terms. It was really a
minor part of his assignment, he understood that.
Suddenly, David remembered Walter Kendall. Kendall was either in Buenos
Aires by now or would be arriving within hours. The accountant had left the
United States at approximately the same time he had, but Kendall's flight
from New York was more direct, with far fewer stopovers.
He wondered whether it would be feasible to go out to the airport and trace
Kendall. If he hadn't arrived, he could wait for him; if he had, it would
be simple enough to check the hotels -according to Ballard there were only
three or four good ones.
On the other hand, any additional time - more than absolutely essential -
spent with the manipulating accountant was not a pleasant prospect. Kendall
would be upset at finding him in Buenos Aires before he'd given the order
to Swanson. Kendall, no doubt, would demand explanations beyond those David
wished to give; probably send angry cables to an already strungout
brigadier general.
There were no benefits in hunting down Walter Kendall until Kendall
expected to find him. Only liabilities.
He had other things to do: the unfocused picture. He could begin that
search far better alone.
David walked back into the living room-kitchen carrying the
225
Scotch and took out a tray of ice from the refrigerator. He made himself a
drink and looked over at the double doors leading to his miniature patio. He
would spend a few quiet twilight moments in the January summertime breeze of
Buenos Aires.
The sun was fighting its final descent beyond the city; the last orange
rays were filtering through the thick foliage of the unidentified fruit
tree. Underneath, David stretched his legs and leaned back in the
rope-webbed chair. He realized that if he kept his eyes closed for any
length of time, they would not reopen for a number of hours. He had to
Robert Ludlum - Rhineman Exchange.txt Page 27