Windmills of the Gods by Sidney Sheldon Read Free Book Online Page B

pants who would rather fuck than eat.
    The day was starting out great.
    At nine A.M. Lantz picked up the telephone and dialed the number of Aerolíneas Argentinas. “What time is your first flight to Buenos Aires?”
    The 747 arrived at Ezeiza Airport in Buenos Aires at five P.M. the following afternoon. It had been a long flight, but Harry Lantz had not minded it. Fifty thousand dollars for delivering a message. He felt a surge of excitement as the wheels lightly kissed the ground. He had not been to Argentinafor almost five years. It would be fun to renew old acquaintances.
    As Harry Lantz stepped out of the plane, the blast of hot air startled him for a moment. Of course. It’s summer here.
    During the taxi ride into the city, Lantz was amused to see that the graffiti scrawled on the sides of buildings and sidewalks had not changed. PLEBISCITO LAS PELOTAS (Fuck the plebiscite). MILITARES , ASESINOS (Army, assassins). TENEMOS HAMBRE (We are hungry). MARIHUANA LIBRE (Free pot). DROGA , SEXO Y MUCHO ROCK (Drugs, sex and rock ‘n’ roll). JUICIO Y CASTIGO A LOS CULPABLES (Trial and punishment for the guilty).
    Yes, it was good to be back.
    Siesta was over and the streets were crowded with people lazily walking to and from appointments. When the taxi arrived at the Hotel El Conquistador in the heart of the fashionable Barrio Norte sector, Lantz paid the driver with a million-peso note.
    “Keep the change,” he said. Their money was a joke.
    He registered at the desk in the huge, modern lobby, picked up a copy of the Buenos Aires Herald and La Prensa, and let the assistant manager show him to his suite. Sixty dollars a day for a bedroom, bathroom, living room, and kitchen, air-conditioned, with television. In Washington, this setup would cost an arm and a leg, Harry Lantz thought. I’ll take care of my business with this Neusa broad tomorrow, and stay around a few days and enjoy myself.
    It was more than two weeks before Harry Lantz was able to track down Neusa Muñez.
    His search began with the city telephone directories. Lantz started with the places in the heart of the city: Area Constitution, Plaza San Martin, Barrio Norte, Catelinas Norte. None of them had a listing for a Neusa Muñez. Nor was there anylisting in the outlying areas of Bahía Blanca or Mar del Plata.
    Where the hell is she? Lantz wondered. He took to the streets, looking up old contacts.
    He walked into La Biela, and the bartender cried out, “ Señor Lantz! Por dios —I heard you were dead.”
    Lantz grinned. “I was, but I missed you so much, Antonio, I came back.”
    “What are you doing in Buenos Aires?”
    Lantz let his voice grow pensive. “I came here to find an old girl friend. We were supposed to get married, but her family moved away and I lost track of her. Her name is Neusa Muñez.”
    The bartender scratched his head. “Never heard of her. Lo siento. ”
    “Would you ask around, Antonio?”
    “¿Por qué no?”
    Lantz’s next stop was to see a friend at police headquarters.
    “Lantz! Harry Lantz! ¡Dios! ¿Qué pasa?”
    “Hello, Jorge. Nice to see you, amigo.”
    “Last I heard about you, the CIA kicked you out.”
    Harry Lantz laughed. “No way, my friend. They begged me to stay. I quit to go into business for myself.”
    “ ¿Sí? What business are you in?”
    “I opened up my own detective agency. As a matter of fact, that’s what brings me to Buenos Aires. A client of mine died a few weeks ago. He left his daughter a bundle of money, and I’m trying to locate her. All the information I have on her is that she lives in an apartment somewhere in Buenos Aires.”
    “What’s her name?”
    “Neusa Muñez.”
    “Wait here a moment.”
    The moment stretched into half an hour.
    “Sorry, amigo. I can’t help you. She is not in our computer or in any of our files.”
    “Oh, well. If you should come across any information about her, I’m at the El Conquistador.”
    “Bueno.”
    The bars were next. Old familiar haunts.