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Authors: James McCreath

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weight lifting and extensive workouts, he had grown to be an imposing figure.

Lonnie De Seta turned the heads of both sexes wherever he went.

Renaldo’s reaction to his father’s death was totally unlike his older

brother’s. There were no fits of temper, no angry outbursts. He was inquisitive

about the family’s future, asking question after question. Lydia, in particular,

reassured the boy that the family would be fine, and that they would be able to

remain at Casa San Marco and Buenos Recuerdos as long as they wanted.

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RENALDO

The younger brother spent many hours alone in his room practicing his

acoustic guitar, in time requesting additional lessons on the instrument. He

also demonstrated an increased interest in soccer, asking to be taken to another

Boca Juniors game, with the assurance that he would not be scared this time.

He would play the game with his brother at every opportunity, but Lonnie

seemed hesitant to engage in the sport that he felt had caused his father’s death.

Renaldo could be found in the garden for hours at a time, alone but happy as

he dribbled, headed, and shot against an imaginary opponent. The boy would

carry on a dialogue with himself as if he were a sports announcer calling the

play by play of a Boca Juniors game. He was always victorious and often scored

the winning goal. Whenever he could, Renaldo would conscript Olarti to be

the opposing goalkeeper, but the old Indian proved too slow to stop all but the

most direct shots from this young wizard with a football.

By the time the youngest De Seta son was old enough to play on the

academy’s lower school side, his coaches and instructors were amazed at the

boy’s proficiency and athletic skill. Renaldo was an inquisitive and talented

student as well, and despite his awkward shyness, maintained a standing near

the top of his academic class. Math and science were his forte, just as they had

been his father’s before him.

The same psychiatrist that had been seeing Lonnie interviewed Renaldo

on several occasions, just to make sure the boy had no hidden demons that he

was harboring. The doctor’s conclusion was that Renaldo had accepted and

adjusted to his father’s passing very well. There was some concern that the boy

was trying to emulate his father by focusing too strongly on Peter’s interests,

namely math and science, the guitar, and soccer. Taken as a whole, however,

Renaldo’s progress in school and his social behavior with others convinced the

psychiatrist that there was no need for continued therapy unless problems arose

in the future.

Florencia took a long time to come to grips with Peter’s death. She was

barely able to attend his funeral and spent the following month sequestered

behind the walls of Casa San Marco. Slowly, mainly due to Lydia’s patience

and encouragement, Florencia began to function in a more normal fashion,

venturing out on shopping excursions or for long walks in the park. The two

women saw their bond grow stronger through this tragedy, and they became

virtually inseparable as time went on.

In truth, it was Lydia’s strength that allowed the whole family to function

in a more or less normal manner. She took charge not only of the household, but

the family business matters as well. Peter had not been a keen businessman.

He had preferred, instead, to let professional investment advisers oversee the

distribution and allotment of the millions of dollars that the liquidation of

Lonfranco’s ventures had garnered. Lydia remained the person to whom these

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JAMES McCREATH

men would report, and she continued to handle the task of dealing with the

‘suits’ in her usual, self-confident manner. The investments flourished, ensuring

the family’s comfortable lifestyle would go uninterrupted.

The eleven years following Peter De Seta’s death passed without major

disruption or trauma in the lives of the four De Setas. Several suitors would

make proposals of marriage to Florencia, who was still an extremely attractive,

and now very wealthy, single woman. She had rebuffed them all, preferring

instead to center her attention on her sons and charity work for underprivileged

children. She ensured that Peter’s camp in Tigre was maintained and periodically

expanded to keep his dreams alive. Most notably, she had little to do with the

society set, other than when it benefited one of her charitable causes.

By 1977, she and Lydia had the right to feel justifiably proud of the job

they had done in raising the two boys and managing their financial affairs in

a diligent and efficient manner. Neither of the ladies had any way of knowing

that the storm clouds gathering on the horizon in December 19 would soon

cause drastic upheaval in each and every one of the De Seta family’s lives.

120

Chapter nine

Lonnie, are you crazy? Mama will tan your hide. You haven’t moved

from where I left you a half hour ago. What are you doing?” A freshly

showered, nattily attired Renaldo De Seta inquired of his older brother.

Lonnie awoke with a start, disoriented for the first few seconds.

“What? Holy shit! I must have dozed off in the sunshine. What time is

it? How long do I have?” He was up and into the casa on the fly, tearing off his

pajama top as he ran. The same question that had kept him awake all night and

had resurfaced once he was alone on the patio kept running through his mind.

What is Celeste up to? What was going on with her and her two brothers?

He had been trying to come up with some logical answers to these

questions when exhaustion finally overcame him as he sat alone in the warm

morning sun.

Celeste Lavalle had not been marking term papers as Lonnie had implied.

Her two brothers, Jean Pierre and Serge, had arrived in town the day before. As

was always the case, Celeste had canceled their Saturday night date at the last

minute to attend to what she described as “family business matters.”

Lonnie had never met the two men from Tucumán, and Celeste was

always extremely secretive and uptight whenever they appeared on her doorstep,

usually without prior notice. He knew that if his relationship with her was to

go anywhere at all, she would have to answer the questions that were eating

away at him. For now though, it was the other woman in his life, his mother,

that he had to deal with.

He dressed quickly, without showering, ran his electric razor over his

morning stubble, slicked back his straight black hair with pomade, and

was down in the entrance foyer before his mother descended the sweeping

staircase.

Lydia had taken up early residence at Buenos Recuerdos that spring, for

even at age seventy-seven she preferred to be on hand for the spring breeding

session. She still controlled almost every aspect of the family’s business interests

and remained personally involved with matters effecting the Pergamino

operations in particular. Hector Brown was still the resident manager of the

estate, although his son Oliviero handled most of the labor to which his father

once tended.

JAMES McCREATH

Now that her grandsons were fully grown, Lydia preferred the tranquility

and fresh air of her country estate to the stifling humidity and pollution of

the city. Her mind seemed freer there to wander back to the enchanted days

when her husband had first introduced her to the Argentine Pampas. It was the

happiest time of her life, and there wasn’t a day when the memory of her Latin

lover didn’t enter her thoughts. She felt truly blessed that she had known and

loved him as she had.

Sunday mass had become one of the few occasions for which Florencia De

Seta would venture out in public. She still derived a great deal of pride from

showing off her two handsome sons to the other society matrons and their

adoring daughters. Although she liked Celeste Lavalle well enough, Florencia

would be the first to admit that she was very much a snob as far as choosing the

proper wives for her sons. The girl from Tucumán lacked certain social graces

that were necessary to survive in the rarefied air of Porteño society. And all that

political nonsense! The change in Lonnie had not gone unnoticed by his mother,

and she much preferred the macho athlete he used to be to the firebrand debater

that he had become. There was nothing but trouble to be had by speaking out

against the powers that ruled Argentina in these times. Even in the old days,

Lonnie’s grandfather knew that premise well and practiced it with great skill.

Keep a low profile and make friends, not enemies, of government officials.

Lonnie had always been such a hothead, but at least when he was playing

rugby, he had a sensible outlet for his pent-up emotions. Now, this Celeste

had turned him into a deep thinker, a political philosopher. Florencia wanted

Lonnie to be more practical in his course selection, to get his business degree

and continue on to law school. It was about time that a male member of the De

Seta family took the helm of their corporate enterprises!

Renaldo would, in all likelihood, follow in his father’s footsteps, for he

had a vocation for the sciences, and she thought him too mild-mannered and

introverted to develop the killer instinct that a great businessman needed.

No, it would be her strong-willed Lonfranco that would ascend to the

president’s chair of De Seta International SA one day. The private family

holding company had, for the time being, a figure-head executive made up

bankers and accountants. Lydia was the nominal president, but she was getting

on in years, and Florencia knew that she would be more than happy to pass

the mantle to her grandson, provided he had obtained the proper academic

credentials. Now, if only she could find him the proper young debutante to

tame his unpredictable spirit and keep him in line!

In this regard, Florencia made sure that she and her sons lingered after

mass to exchange pleasantries with the appropriate young ladies and their well-

to-do parents. The boys were polite, but disinterested. Renaldo could think of

only two things: Astor Gordero and the possibility of him keeping his promise

122

RENALDO

of a future meeting and his bed, for he was exhausted to the point of nodding

off during the sermon. Lonnie was consumed by Celeste and her whereabouts.

He had telephoned her flat before departing for the basilica, but there remained

no answer. He was confused rather than jealous, for after all, these men that

were depriving him of her company were her brothers. Had it been anyone else,

Lonnie would have taken the bull by the horns, confronted his competition,

and settled the matter once and for all. The only thing he could do now was

wait and wonder.

Oli was sent to awaken Renaldo at ten a.m. the following morning. It

was Monday, and because his school term was finished, he had been allowed to

sleep late. He had, in fact, slept almost twenty hours. There was a phone call

for him from Señor Estes Santos, Oli said. Hearing his coach’s name cleared the

cobwebs from the boy’s head instantly.
Santos must have talked to Astor Gordero
,

he thought.

“Renaldo, the man is true to his word. We have a meeting with him at

noon on the twenty-second of this month. Will you still be in town?” the older

man asked excitedly.

“I am not sure, Estes. We usually go to Pergamino for Christmas, but we

haven’t set a departure date yet. I suppose for something this important, I could

always stay behind and arrive separately. Who did you talk to? What exactly

was said?”

“Gordero wasn’t in his office yet, but when I left my name with his

secretary, she put me through to his executive assistant, one Wolfgang Stoltz.

Herr Stoltz is as Teutonic as his name sounds, very proper, very, very German.

He had been informed by Gordero to expect a call from us, and we were given

the first appointment that was open. So you better make an effort to stay in

town, amigo. Chances like this don’t pop up every day.”

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