The colonel drew up a chair for me and we sat down.

“Back in 1932 there were two sensational murders in the German newspapers.”

“There were a lot more than two,” I said sourly.

“Not like these two. I remember reading about them in some lurid detail. These were lust murders, were they not? Two girls similarly mutilated. Just like poor Grete Wohlauf. One in Berlin and one in Munich. And you, Herr Gunther. You were the investigating detective. Your picture was in the paper.”

“Yes. I was. Only I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“The murderer was never caught, Herr Gunther. He was never caught. That’s why we’re talking.”

I shook my head. “That’s true. But look, it was almost twenty years ago. And several thousand miles away. You’re surely not suggesting that these three murders might be connected.”

“Why not?” The colonel shrugged. “I have to consider every possibility. With the benefit of hindsight, it seems to me that these were peculiarly German crimes. Who was that other fellow who murdered and sexually mutilated all those boys and girls? Haarmann, wasn’t it? He bit out their throats and cut off their genitals. And Kurten. Peter Kurten. The Vampire of Dusseldorf. Let’s not forget him, shall we?”

“Haarmann and Kurten were executed, Colonel. As I’m sure you must remember. So it can hardly be them, now can it?”

“Of course not. But there were other lust murders, too. As I’m sure you remember. Some of them involving mutilation and cannibalism.” The colonel leaned forward on his chair. “All right. Here’s where I’m going with this. Many Germans have come to live here in Buenos Aires. Before the war, and after the war. And not all of them are civilized people like you and me. Naturally I’ve been paying close attention to the trials of your so-called war criminals. And it’s quite clear to me that some of your countrymen have done some terrible things. Unimaginable things. So here’s my theory, if you can call it that. Not everyone who has come to Argentina in the last five years is an angel. Some might be devils. Just like in that old Berlin club. The Heaven and Hell. You will admit that much, surely?”

“Freely. You heard what I said to the president.”

“Yes, I did. It made me think that you might be a man I could use, Herr Gunther. An angel, if you like.”

“I’ve never been called that before.”

“Oh, I think you have, but I’ll get to that. Let me finish this particular train of thought. You will also admit, I hope, that many of your colleagues in the SS enjoyed killing, yes? I mean, it stands to reason, doesn’t it? That some of these men in the SS were psychopaths. Yes?”

I nodded. “I can see where you’re going with this, I think.”

“Exactly. Take the case of Rudolf Hoss, the commander of the Auschwitz concentration camp. He’d murdered before. In 1923. As had Martin Bormann. A man does not become a psychopath because he puts on a uniform. Therefore it must be the case that there were many psychopaths who found a congenial home in the SS and the Gestapo as licensed murderers and torturers.”

“I always thought so,” I said. “You can imagine my pleasure when I was inducted into the SS, in 1940. It comes as quite a shock to spend your whole life investigating murder, then to be sent to Russia and expected to start committing it yourself.”

“Oh, I wasn’t suggesting you were a psychopath, Herr Gunther. Look, let’s say that in 1932 this murderer is not caught. In 1933 the Nazis come to power and he joins the SS, where he finds a new, socially acceptable means of achieving his lust for cruelty. During the war he works in a death camp, killing as many as he wants, with total impunity.”

“And then you invite him to come and live in Argentina.” I grinned. “I take your point. But I don’t see how I can help.”

“I should have thought it was obvious. A chance to reopen an old case.”

“I’m not the neat type, Colonel. And believe me, there were plenty of other unsolved cases on our books. None of them costs me any sleep.”

The colonel was nodding but I could see that he still had cards to play.

“Another girl has gone missing,” he said. “Here in B.A.”

“Girls go missing all the time. Darwin called it natural selection. A girl selects a young man and naturally her father doesn’t like him very much. So she runs off with him.”

“So I can’t appeal to your social conscience?”

“I hardly know my way around this city. I barely speak the language. I’m a fish out of water.”

“Not exactly. The girl who is missing is of German-Argentine origin. Like Grete Wohlauf. I was thinking you might confine your inquiries to our German community. Didn’t I just explain that I have a hunch we’re looking for a German? You don’t need to speak good Spanish to do that. You don’t need to know the city. You do need to be a German. And to hunt among the people I want you to hunt among, you need to be one of them. When I said you could be my angel, I meant my black angel. Isn’t that what Germans called men who were in the SS? Black angels?”

“Set a thief to catch a thief, is that it?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“They’re not going to like that, my old comrades. They have new names. New faces, some of them. New names, new faces, and amnesia. I could find myself becoming very unpopular with some of the most ruthless men in South America. Present company excepted.”

“I already thought of a way of handling things so that you don’t wind up dead.”

I smiled. He was persistent, I had to give him that much. And I was beginning to have a feeling he had already second-guessed all of my objections. “I bet you have, Colonel.”

“I’ve even considered your financial situation,” he said. “After having converted your money at the Bank of London and South America-the branch on Calle Bartolome Mitre, wasn’t it?”

“So much for banking secrecy in this country,” I said.

“You will have learned that twenty-five thousand Austrian schillings is not such a lot. By my calculations, you have about a thousand dollars, which is not going to last you very long in Buenos Aires. A year, maybe less, if there are unforeseen expenses. And it’s my experience that there are always unforeseen circumstances. Especially for a man in your position. On the other hand, I’m offering you a job. Unlike the kind of a job Carlos Fuldner will probably offer you, this is a job you would actually be good at.”

“Working for you? In the secret police?”

“Why not? There’s a salary, a desk in the Casa Rosada, a car. There’s even a passport. A proper one. Not that piece of shit the Red Cross gave you. With a proper passport you could go back to Germany, perhaps. Without having to answer all sorts of awkward questions when you got there. After all, you would be an Argentine citizen. Think about it.”

“Perhaps if I had the original case files, it might have been possible.” I shook my head. “But it was almost twenty years ago. Probably the files were lost during the war.”

“On the contrary. They’re here in B.A. I had them sent from Berlin Alexanderplatz.”

“You did that? How?”

The colonel shrugged modestly, but still managed to look quite pleased with himself. As well he might have done. I was impressed with him.

“Actually, it really wasn’t very difficult. It’s the Americans who dislike Peron and the generals, not the Russians. Besides, the Delegation for Argentine Immigration in Europe has many friends in Germany. You should know that better than anyone. If the DAIE can get Eichmann out of Germany, a few old files are not going to present much of a problem.”

“My compliments, Colonel. You seem to have thought of everything.”

“In Buenos Aires it is better to know everything than it is to know too much,” said the colonel.

He crossed his legs and picked some fluff off his knee and waited patiently for my answer. I felt certain I was about to trump him, but he looked so cool I couldn’t help but think he still had something up his sleeve.