and the Andalusians. As a result, Serrador had intelligence that some of the other groups might be talking about joining together for a political or military move against the Castilians. A preemptive strike.”
“And it isn’t just a national issue,” McCaskey said. “My Interpol sources tell me that the French are supporting the antiseparatist Basques. They’re afraid that if the separatist Basques get too much power, the French Basques will act to form
“Is there a real danger of that?” Herbert asked.
“There is,” said McCaskey. “From the late 1960s through the middle 1970s, the quarter-million Basques in France helped the two million Basques in Spain fight the repression of Francisco Franco. The camraderie between the French Basques and the Spanish separatist Basques is so strong that the Basques — Spanish and French alike — simply refer to the region as the northern and southern Basque country, respectively.”
“The Basques and the Castilians are the two groups Serrador wanted us to investigate immediately,” Hood said. “But in addition to them, there are the Catalonians, also of central and northern Spain, who make up sixteen percent of the population. They’re extremely rich and influential. A large portion of the Catalonians’ taxes go to supporting the other minorities, especially the Andalusians in the south. They would be just as happy to see the other groups disappear.”
“How happy would they be?” Lanning asked. “Happy enough to make that happen?”
“As in genocide?” Hood asked.
Lanning shrugged. “It doesn’t take more than a few loud men to fan suspicion and hate to those levels.”
“The men on the yacht were Catalonian,” McCaskey said.
“And the Catalonians have always been separatists,” Lanning said. “They were a key force in spurring on the Spanish Civil War sixty years ago.”
“That’s true,” Ron Plummer said. “But the Catalonians also have a bunker mentality regarding other races. Genocide is usually the result of an already dominant force looking to turn widespread public anger against a specific target. That’s not what we have here.”
“I’m inclined to agree with Ron,” Hood said. “It probably would have been easier for the Catalonians to exert financial pressure on the nation than to resort to genocide.”
“We’ll be able to check this out more thoroughly after we find out who else was on the yacht,” Herbert said confidently.
Hood nodded and turned back to the computer monitor. “In addition to the Basques, Castilians, and Catalonians, we’ve got the Andalusians. They comprise roughly twelve percent of the population and they’ll side with any group in power because of their financial dependency. The Galicians are roughly eight percent of the population. They’re an agricultural people — very Spanish, traditionally independent, and likely to stay out of any fray that might erupt.”
“So,” Lanning said, “they’ve got a complex situation over there. And given the volatile history of the interrelations I can understand them wanting to keep the disputes quiet. What I don’t understand is something Mr. Herbert said — why this Deputy Serrador wanted to see Martha specifically.”
“Deputy Serrador seemed comfortable with her due to her familiarity with Spain and the language,” Hood said. “He also liked the fact that she was a woman who belonged to a racial minority. He said he could count on her to be both discreet and sympathetic.”
“Sure,” Herbert said. “But I’ve been sitting here thinking that she also happened to be the perfect victim for one of those ethnic groups.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What do you mean?” Hood asked.
“To put it bluntly,” Herbert said, “the Catalonians are male-supremacists who hate black Africans. It’s an animosity that goes back about nine hundred years, to the wars with the Moors of Africa. If someone wanted to get the Catalonians on their side — and who wouldn’t want the folks with the money in their camp? — they’d pick a black woman as a victim.”
There was silence for a moment.
“That’s a bit of a reach, don’t you think?” Lanning asked.
“Not really,” the intelligence chief replied. “I’ve seen longer shots pay off. The sad truth is, whenever I go looking for muddy footprints in the gutter of human nature, I’m rarely disappointed.”
“What ethnic group does Serrador belong to?” Mike Rodgers asked.
“He’s Basque, General,” McCaskey’s voice came from the speakerphone, “with absolutely no record of antinationalist activity. We checked him out. To the contrary. He’s voted against every kind of separatist legislation.”
“He could be a mole,” Lanning said. “The most damaging Soviet spy we ever had at State was raised in whitebread Darien, Connecticut, and voted for Barry Goldwater.”
“You’re catching on,” Herbert said, grinning. He had a feeling what was coming: there was no one more passionate than a convert.
Lanning regarded Hood. “The more I think about what Mr. Herbert just said, the more troubled I am by all of this. We’ve had situations before where we’ve been set up by foreign interests. Let’s assume for the moment that that’s what happened. That Martha was lured to Spain to be assassinated, for whatever reason. The only way we’ll ever find that out is if we have access to all aspects of the investigation. Do we have that, Mr. McCaskey?”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” McCaskey replied. “Serrador said he’s going to look into it, but Aideen and I were both shuttled off to our hotel rooms and we haven’t heard anything since.”
“Yeah, the Spanish government isn’t always very forthcoming about their private activities,” Herbert said. “During World War II, this supposedly neutral nation rode shotgun on train- and truckloads of Nazi booty sent from Switzerland to Portugal. They did it in exchange for future favors, which, luckily, they never got to collect on.”
“That was Francisco Franco,” Ron Plummer said. “Professional courtesy, dictator-to-dictator. It doesn’t mean that Spanish people are that way.”
“True,” Herbert said, “but the Spanish leaders are still at it. In the 1980s the defense minister hired drug smugglers as mercenaries to kill Basque separatists. The government purchased guns for the team in South Africa. They let them keep the weapons afterward, too. No,” he said, “I wouldn’t count on any Spanish government to help the United States with anything.”
Hood held up both hands. “We’re getting off the subject here. Darrell, for the moment I’m not concerned about Serrador, his motives, or his intelligence needs. I want to find out who killed Martha and why. Mike,” Hood looked at Rodgers—“you recruited Aideen. What’s she made of?”
Rodgers was still standing behind Carol Lanning. He unfolded his arms and shifted his weight. “She stood up to some pretty tough dealers in the drug trade in Mexico City. She’s got iron in her back.”
“I see where you’re going, Paul,” Liz said, “and I want to caution you. Aideen’s under a lot of emotional stress. Throw her into a covert police action right now and the pressure could break her.”
“It could also be just what she needs,” Herbert said.
“You’re absolutely right,” Liz replied. “Everyone is different. Only the question isn’t just what Aideen needs. If she goes undercover and cracks, she could be the nail that cost the horse that cost the kingdom.”
“Besides,” Herbert said to Hood, “if we send someone else over to follow the muddy footprints, we lose time.”
“Darrell,” Hood asked, “did you hear that?”
“I heard.”
“What do you think?”
“I think a couple of things,” McCaskey said. “Mike’s right. The lady’s got backbone to spare. She wasn’t afraid to get right in Serrador’s face. And my gut tells me the same thing as Bob’s: I’m inclined to let her loose on the Spaniards. But Liz has also got a solid point. So if it’s okay with you, let me talk to Aideen first. I’ll know pretty quick whether she’s up to it.”
Hood’s eyes shifted to the staff psychologist. “Liz, if we decide to go ahead with something and Aideen’s involved, what should Darrell look for? Any physical signs?”
“Extreme restlessness,” Liz replied. “Rapid speech, foot tapping, cracking the knuckles, heavy sighing, that sort of thing. She’s got to be able to focus. If her mind wanders into guilt and loss, she’s going to drop down a hole and not be able to get out.”
“Any questions, Darrell?” Hood asked.
