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Guillermo García Medina and Otto Skorzeny’s relationship

Los pacientes del doctor García

Guillermo García Medina and Otto Skorzeny’s relationship begins in conspiracy and murder, then settles into a profitable, carefully bounded business association. Guillermo kills the real Adrián Gallardo at Skorzeny’s direction, helping preserve the escape network and his own assumed identity; in the years that follow, he and Skorzeny—living as Rolf Steinbauer—continue to work together without naming the crime that binds them. The arrangement makes Guillermo rich, but its success also measures the defeat of the political hope that once guided him.

From clandestine network to lethal bargain

The relationship takes shape within the Nazi escape network surrounding Clara Stauffer. At Galileo 14, fugitives arrive thin and exhausted, receive food and new clothes, and return to the office after arrangements are made for them. Sole Ruiz notices the steady traffic and suspects its purpose; a carelessly unsealed parish envelope reveals a German baptismal certificate dated 1907. Such documents, obtained through sympathetic priests and contacts in the state administration, are believed to help fugitives acquire Spanish papers and continue toward Argentina. Manuel Arroyo Benítez, working undercover inside the network, gathers evidence of this system while posing under successive identities.

The network’s suspected reach extends beyond shelter and forged documentation. Manuel believes that shipments Guillermo has agreed to supervise may include art looted from museums and Jewish owners in occupied territories, along with jewelry, antiques, and perhaps precious metals or currency taken from Nazi stores. He also recalls Clara’s attempt to introduce him, at a gathering in Cercedilla on 18 July 1947, to a man whose name might have been Ban or Bam. If it was Bam, the name pointed to Hans Lazar, whose missing embassy treasure and archive the Allies had long sought. The connection places Guillermo’s business activity within a larger apparatus of escape, concealment, and the movement of Nazi assets.

The killing of Adrián Gallardo

When the real Adrián Gallardo returns, his survival threatens the false identity that Manuel has used while infiltrating Stauffer’s organization. Manuel tells him that the organization believed him dead and that his identity has enabled a valuable man to leave the country. He offers 150,000 pesetas immediately and the same amount a year later in exchange for silence. He then proposes a different arrangement: 300,000 pesetas at once if Adrián leaves Spain for any country other than Argentina. Manuel recognizes that this improvised alternative is a grave mistake. It offers no assurance that Adrián will stay away, and Manuel understands that the negotiation is partly an attempt to make the killing he intends to carry out feel less like murder.

Adrián examines the money. Manuel draws his pistol, places its muzzle against the left side of Adrián’s neck, where the carotid artery lies, and fires before he can turn his head. It is 7:45 on the evening of 29 December. The shot is louder than Manuel expects, but nobody comes to investigate. He waits, puts on gloves, arranges the body, and washes blood from his torso, arms, and face with cold water. Then he changes into a clean shirt, takes apart the pistol, retrieves the cash, and restores the chairs around the desk, leaving Adrián’s body apparently asleep in its seat. His hands tremble afterward, and it takes nearly fifteen minutes before he can work normally again.

Manuel calls Rolf Steinbauer in Munich and tells him the job is done. Steinbauer praises him as a comrade and says that professional associates will collect the package. The exchange makes their roles plain: Manuel commits the violence, while Steinbauer receives confirmation and arranges the removal. The killing protects the assumed identity and serves the network, but it also leaves Manuel with a crime that cannot be reduced to the businesslike language of payment, planning, and disposal.

A business association under assumed names

Years later, Steinbauer lives in El Viso and runs a company based on Gran Vía. The name is another cover: he has signed contracts as Otto Skorzeny, then sometimes needs to return them so that they can be sent back with his forged signature as the company’s owner. Since the summer of 1951, his firm has used La Meridiana, Guillermo’s transport agency, to send and receive materials and documents. Guillermo does not welcome the renewed connection, but the two remain on friendly terms as client and service provider, never allowing the relationship to become intimate.

Their business is also a source of shared exposure. When Steinbauer first asks whether the agency now belongs to Guillermo, he already knows the answer: Guillermo owns most of it, while Don Gabino’s heirs retain 35 percent. Steinbauer’s repeated use of La Meridiana gives the association a practical foundation, but the company’s success rests partly on the same former Nazi’s position in Spain. Guillermo recognizes that the favor the Franco regime extends to Skorzeny has helped make La Meridiana one of the country’s most prosperous and important transport agencies.

Silence, complicity, and the chess clock

The two men establish distance as a condition of continued contact. Steinbauer once suggests that he would like to invite Guillermo to his home and meet his family; Guillermo puts him off, and Steinbauer does not press. They do not speak on the telephone. Their secretaries handle arrangements, and they meet for meals only a couple of times a year, with Guillermo paying. Given the scale of German companies’ steel imports into Spain, refusing those meals altogether would itself look suspicious.

At these lunches, neither man discusses the past. Steinbauer mentions Clara Stauffer only in passing and says nothing about Hans Lazar or how he disposed of an unnamed body. Guillermo never says Adrián Gallardo’s name or identifies the street where the Sociedad Europea de Comercio Exterior had its office. Each understands that the other has reasons for silence; they share the knowledge that they were fortunate and have no wish to revisit the events. Their tacit agreement leaves the relationship balanced, usable, and deliberately incomplete: business, women, restaurants, and everyday matters are safe subjects; the dead man is not.

That equilibrium is captured by a Junghans chess clock made of cherry wood. Steinbauer gives it to Guillermo for Christmas in 1954, after Guillermo has been unable to find one himself. It resembles the clock once owned by Guillermo’s grandfather and sits above the fireplace in the family’s living room. The gift is personal enough to carry their history, yet it does not break the silence around it. Guillermo’s children treat the clock as an heirloom, but for him it becomes a private emblem of a life split between the man he is and the identities he has inhabited.

The price of success

The partnership reverses Guillermo’s political purpose. Trade involving Nazi gold has made him wealthy, and Skorzeny’s preferential treatment by the regime Guillermo once hoped to overthrow has helped make his transport agency thrive. Guillermo understands the paradox as a personal reckoning: his failure has become his success, and the death of his hope has become the source of his wealth. The prosperity does not erase the murder or restore the cause he abandoned; it ties both men to the material benefits of a political order that has survived.

The chess clock remains in view as a reminder of that contradiction. Guillermo does not leave it to his son Manuel, who never takes up chess, and although his daughter Rita becomes a strong player, he does not let her carry it to her room. He keeps it above the fireplace, a sign of the life that joined a concealed doctor and political leftist to a successful businessman working with Skorzeny. Their relationship endures not through trust or confession but through profitable exchanges and mutual silence. Its apparent stability is the final irony: the agency flourishes, the men continue to meet, and the past remains present in the object Guillermo cannot bring himself to remove.