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  society will ever know about. The male’s job is to induce conception, then

  step back until it is time to pass out the cigars. Everything in between is left

  to the women and their specialists. It is not within the realm of a gentleman

  to want to know the intricacies of what goes on during childbirth. Besides,

  it is a frightfully messy ordeal, much like fighting a pitched military battle.

  When things go wrong, especially with those people in the upper strata of

  society, a trip abroad or to their estancia is planned for several months until the

  perceived scandal dies down. Thus men hear nothing of these things, and the

  women gossip and speculate until word is sent from the grieving family that

  such and such happened a few months back, and that they would be returning

  to the capital in time for the next social season. I have personally attended to,

  and been instrumental in carrying off, more of these deceptions than I care to

  remember.”

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  All of this gibberish did nothing to appease Lonfranco’s ire. There must

  have been some terrible mistake at the hospital for them to allow Maria to die.

  Someone would pay for this. He would not rest until the person responsible was

  hung, drawn, and quartered.

  It was Maria’s lady-friends who were responsible for convincing Lonfranco

  that her tragic death was an act of God, and not due to incompetence by the

  medical staff. Avril Galaria, Maria’s maid of honor at their wedding, spent

  many torturous hours at Casa San Marco consoling and reassuring the desolate

  husband.

  “Sometimes these things are necessary, so that those left behind can follow

  the true path that God has ordained for them.”

  Lonfranco was not a religious man, but he found solace in the tender words

  of Avril Galaria. By the time Maria and their unborn male son were placed in the

  family crypt beside the general, his wife, and their three daughters, Lonfranco

  was at peace with himself and the world. He would accept Maria’s passing as

  something that must have been necessary, for whatever reason. He would never

  fully understand why, but he knew that the Roman Catholic Church would

  provide him with spiritual answers if he ever chose to seek them out.

  The widower returned home to Casa San Marco alone after the funeral and

  began charting out the course that his life must now follow. Certain adjustments

  were easier to make than others. Death had been a factor in Lonfranco’s life

  before, but to lose a baby, a son that was his own flesh and blood, that was

  something that was especially hard for him to come to grips with.

  “Maria is in heaven, reunited with her family,” or so his religious friends

  told him. Perhaps a gross oversimplification, thought Lonfranco, but the idea seems to

  give solace to so many people that possibly their theory has some virtue.

  Eventually, Lonfranco convinced himself that this train of thought was

  the only way to ease his heartbreak. He decided to focus on his business

  activities as a means of escaping the pain in his heart. The last thing on his

  mind was his social standing, yet paradoxically, the tragedies that had befallen

  him had only elevated his status within the Porteño social set. He was sought

  after with great fervor as a distinguished guest at many of the finest tables

  in the capital. Lonfranco, while not really caring for all the pretensions that

  accompanied so many of those ‘puffed-up’ people, was wise enough to play

  their games to his own advantage. When it suited him, he could be the host

  of some lavish fête at Casa San Marco, or he would invite a select group to visit

  Buenos Recuerdos for a long weekend or holiday. He not only catered to the

  local Porteño establishment, but also entertained throngs of foreign investors.

  His connections with the succession of politicians that followed President Roca

  in the nation’s highest office were always based on his ability to drum up the

  appropriate amount of foreign capital for whatever project the government of

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  the day had in mind. He traveled extensively through Europe and the Pacific

  rim over the four years following Maria’s passing, but his preferred investors

  remained the British.

  The feeling was mutual, by all accounts. Along with their financial

  interests in Argentina, the British had established a foothold in Buenos Aires

  and its environs that was beyond anyone’s wildest imagination. Scientists,

  technicians, and manufacturers were joined by bankers, tradesmen, and teachers,

  many bringing their entire families with them. The British community inside

  Argentina had attained with pound sterling what they could not accomplish

  some years earlier with saber and cannon.

  Initially, the British had arrived in Buenos Aires from the high seas

  during the later part of the eighteenth century. Most of them were smugglers

  or pirates. During the Napoleonic wars in the early nineteenth century, British

  Commodore Sir Home Popham decided to invade the city, claiming it in the

  name of his king. The arrogant Europeans were rudely expelled by the local

  militia and citizenry, but they soon recognized the bounty that extended

  peaceful relations with this unexplored and untapped market could reap for

  them. Overtures of peace and economic aid were offered in place of armed

  aggression, and this time, the Porteños welcomed the Brits with open arms

  and wallets.

  English preparatory schools, or private schools, became established to

  educate the children of the United Kingdom transplants. St. Andrew’s Scots

  School, the English High School, and a school that Lonfranco would give his

  particular attention to, the Sir Isaac Newton Academy of the Sciences, were all

  flourishing in the post-Great War era.

  As an adjunct to all their business interests, the British had also brought

  with them a peculiar game that seemed to be quite the rage among all levels of

  society. Originally, according to one of Lonfranco’s English acquaintances, the

  sport was meant to be played by gentlemen of the upper classes as a means of

  keeping the body as well as the mind physically fit. The more prominent teams

  in England came from famous schools such as Eton, Oxford, or Cambridge.

  The sport was called soccer by the gentlemen. It soon became apparent

  that such good-natured physical release could benefit the toiling masses in

  various industries. Form a company team, keep the men in top condition, keep

  them out of the pubs and free of shenanigans, and give them pride in their work

  through association with that company team.

  The factory owners and gentlemen were soon rubbing shoulders with the

  average working man out on the playing fields, the common denominator being

  the love of the sport the workers called ‘football.’

  The Italian immigrants that had arrived in ever-increasing numbers in

  Argentina had added their passion to the sport as well. It was not uncommon

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  to see groups of young boys and men kicking a ball, or whatever object they

  could find, into a makeshift net.

  The Argentine Football Association ha
d been formed in 1883 by a group

  of Englishmen with Alexander Watson as its founding president. This was the

  first organized soccer association on the South American continent. The initial

  teams all had a link to the British community, whether it be an industry such

  as the railway club, an English suburb such as Quilmes Athletic Club, or a

  school team such as the English High School Alumni.

  Over the years, the English role in the local version of the sport diminished

  as football was embraced as the national passion by Argentines of diverse

  heritage and social standing.

  Teams sprang up throughout the country. Boca Juniors were supported

  primarily by the Italian community, while Racing Club was founded by French

  residents of the capital. Rosario Central Football Club was a British endeavor,

  as were the River Plate and Independiente clubs. The first international match

  pitting Argentina against neighboring Uruguay was played in 1901.

  Lonfranco’s involvement with the Isacc Newton Academy of the Sciences

  started as a result of the academy founding the first veterinary college in

  Argentina. Both equine and bovine studies were of particular interest to the

  scientific community at the academy. Several of the top practitioners and

  researchers in the field had arrived from England, having been lured away to

  join the impressive faculty.

  Through a philanthropic foundation that he had set up in Maria’s name,

  Lonfranco gave generously to the academy. He was consumed with perfecting a

  breed of beef cattle that would not only become the finest stock in Argentina,

  but would also stand as a premium export product. In addition, he had acquired

  the general’s passion for thoroughbred racehorses and polo ponies, which he

  continued to breed at Buenos Recuerdos.

  Lonfranco spent so much time at the Newton Academy that he was offered

  a seat on the board of governors by his close friend and fellow polo enthusiast,

  Dr. C.W. Reynolds, who was its chairman. The widower graciously accepted

  the appointment.

  The Newton Academy was a school of two separate entities, the lower

  school and the university program. The lower, or preparatory school, catered

  to highschool-aged male students who had a propensity for the sciences,

  particularly medicine. While there was a sprinkling of liberal arts courses to

  round out the scholastic character of the young men, the emphasis was definitely

  on the sciences.

  Admission to ‘the prep,’ as it was called, was the most highly sought-

  after placement in the entire country. The entrance examination took an entire

  weekend to complete. With the aid of an extensive scholarship program, boys

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  from all levels of Argentine society were put on equal footing in the selection

  process. Preference was given, of course, to English families if there was a tie

  for a placement opening, but the applicants were never aware of the unwritten

  regulations that really determined admission.

  Upon graduating from the prep, a student had the opportunity to

  continue on to the academy’s university level programs that were affiliated with

  the University of Buenos Aires. This institution turned out the finest medical

  doctors, veterinarians, bio-chemists, and researchers on the continent. With a

  faculty that was world-renowned, students were guaranteed the most thorough

  and up-to-date educational experience available.

  Like all the other English schools in and around the capital, the Newton

  Academy believed in a sound body as well as a sound mind. The prep soccer

  team became an attraction in itself, traveling the length and breadth of the

  country to showcase its skills and teach the sport to anyone who cared to

  learn.

  The team played under the name ‘Newton’s Prefects,’ a prefect being a

  senior student that had the responsibility of directing the academy’s student

  body in the proper ways of being a gentleman. Prefects enforced the code of

  ethics and honor at the academy. They could act as disciplinarians among their

  peers, and their authority ranked just below that of the faculty. They were the

  most astute in the classroom and the most proficient on the playing fields. They

  were the elite of the elite. To be a Newton’s Prefect was to be a deity among the

  general population, a perception that their prowess with a football did nothing

  to diminish.

  The faculty, as well as the students at the university level, was also keenly

  interested in the sport. It was decided by the board of governors that as a means

  of promoting the academy, a senior team would join the newly formed football

  association and also play at the professional level as ‘Newton’s Prefects.’

  The popularity of the senior team was immediate and beyond anyone’s

  imagination. The team had acquired so many enthusiastic supporters that the

  board of governors immediately set about building their own stadium adjacent

  to the campus. The infusion of some fine Porteño players allowed the team to

  expand its base of support into the poorer barrios of the city, and even citizens

  who had no knowledge of the academic institution became fanatical followers

  of the football side. National championships became the norm, and the trophy

  cases in the rotunda of the academy’s administration building were constantly

  being enlarged to accommodate the spoils of victory.

  A soccer pitch was constructed at Buenos Recuerdos to honor Lonfranco’s

  British friends. Even the gauchos seemed to be taken by the game, and many a

  lively contest was held between the foreign visitors and the local plainsmen. It

  was all in good fun, and Lonfranco made sure that his staff did not insult the

  guests by running up the score, as they were usually capable of doing.

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  A fortunate visitor to the Pergamino estate would be treated to a thrilling

  polo match featuring Lonfranco’s internationally acclaimed team. Named

  to honor the memory of General Figueroa San Marco, this fine collection of

  men and mounts had traveled the world displaying their talents. More often

  than not, the team’s patron used his polo playing sojourns abroad to entice

  an investor or to explore a new business scheme. Thus the costs of playing his

  favorite sport were likely to be paid in full by his shrewd knowledge of how to

  play the financial game as well as the game of polo.

  One such trip to England in the spring of 1919 brought developments for

  which Lonfranco was totally unprepared.

  The prime reason for this trip abroad was to buy a prize bull to augment

  to his stock of beef cattle. The breeder was a gregarious character by the name

  of Liam Peters, and it took little more than a few pints of stout for the two men

  to strike a deal on the animal’s monetary value. After that, it was a night of lies

  and tall tales that concluded with Mr. Peters having to carry a very intoxicated

  Señor De Seta to his lodgings.

  Lonfranco was insistent that the Englishman turn out the next afternoon

  to watch him make a fool of himself at a charity polo event. Peters at first

  scoffed at the idea, saying he might be interested
if the game were played on

  more practical beasts of burden, such as his Holsteins. Finally, however, he

  admitted some responsibility for his guest’s inebriated state and grudgingly

  accepted the invitation.

  The pounding inside Lonfranco’s head had not subsided by the time he

  sat astride his mount for the opening chucker of the match. A large crowd had

  gathered to witness the dashing Latin side, but the only thing Lonfranco felt

  like was dashing to the W.C. He was having difficulty focusing his eyes and

  was barely able to remain upright in the saddle. His mallet overshot several

  perfect balls that he normally would have converted easily to goals.

  The English team won the day, and at the conclusion of the match, just as

  Lonfranco was about to collapse into an armchair some distance removed from

  the festivities, who should appear but Liam Peters with a bottle of champagne

  and two glasses.

  “So, me boy, it looks like ya would have preferred to be ridin’ old bossy

  today. She could have slowed things down fer ya a tad, until ya got yer sea legs

  back. Here, have a snort o’ the hair o’ the dog that bit ya.”

  Peters expelled the cork from the bottle of bubbly, poured two overflowing

  glasses, and handed one to Lonfranco.

  “Mr. Peters, this is hardly what I need to make me whole again. Perhaps

  you might direct me to a chemist and then a dark, quiet room, a long distance

  from any beverage hall.”

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  As Peters began to chide the Argentine for his reluctance to drink a toast

  to the victorious English polo side, he was interrupted in mid-sentence.

  “There you are, Father. I’ve been at my wits’ end trying to find you. Doctor

  Murphy, the vet, seems to be missing a bottle of his champagne. He says that

  he was engaged in a conversation with you just before the end of the match, and

  then both you and the bottle disappeared. So what is that object you are hiding

  from me behind your back? Why, you shameless old billy goat! Don’t you know

  that these society people don’t take kindly to . . .”

  Lydia Peters left her scolding unfinished. Her father had tried to conceal

  the open champagne bottle, and in doing so, had turned to face his twenty-

  year-old daughter, blocking Lonfranco from her view.

  As father and daughter engaged in a lively little jig over possession of the