The Five Arrows

  _Chapter eleven_

  Duarte knew about the Phoenix Garage before Hall returned to the MexicanEmbassy. "Commander New dropped in while you were at the fire," heexplained. "He told me."

  "Does he know anything else about it?"

  "Not about the fire. But he does know a little more about Fielding. Hesays that Fielding's files have been cleaned out. There wasn't a singlecopy of any of Fielding's reports when the British officials opened thefiles."

  "But the British have all the dope, Felipe. Fielding's reports--at leastthe ones he showed me--were all carbons of the reports he made to hisEmbassy."

  "I know that. But if his reports are now in the hands of the Falange,the Axis knows it too. It will give them time to cover their traces. Itwill also put the finger on you. One of the things they did find in theoffice was a note Fielding had made reminding himself to prepare copiesof certain reports for you, Mateo. That might explain what happened toyou in that Falangist cafe on the waterfront the other day. Fielding hadalready been killed when you were drugged."

  Hall lay down on the couch in Duarte's office, took his shoes off. "I'llbe all right in a few minutes," he said. "I just need about ten minutesof this."

  "I'll get some cold beer."

  "No. I don't need it. Listen, Felipe, do the British know that I wasdrugged?"

  "I don't think so. I didn't tell them, anyway. I wouldn't, without yourpermission."

  "Maybe you should tell them. It might do some good. But what are wegoing to do now that we know about the fire? I still feel like a drunkon a merry-go-round."

  Duarte laughed. "You can always get off and go home," he said.

  "No. It feels worse when I get off."

  "I did something this morning, Mateo. I sent word to General Mogradothrough one of our diplomatic couriers."

  "Mogrado? Of the Spanish air force?"

  "He's living in Mexico City now. I asked him to rush everything he couldget on Ansaldo. The largest Spanish Republican colony in the hemisphereis in Mexico, you know. I figured that surely there must be one manamong the exiles--a doctor, a former Army officer, someone--who couldgive us the dope on Ansaldo."

  "Sounds like a possibility."

  "We'll see."

  "Don't let me fall asleep here. I've got things to do."

  "Then get some rest. I've got to complete my report." Duarte turned tohis typewriter, glanced at what he had written on the sheet in themachine. "Mateo," he said, "I'm meeting Dr. Gonzales in an hour. We'regoing to try to reach Lavandero with your Havana information on Ansaldo.Will you join me?"

  "No. I have some unfinished business myself. I think that before thenight is over we'll know a lot more about Ansaldo."

  "What are you going to do?"

  Hall stifled a yawn. "I'm going to take a chance and shoot the works onsomeone who can talk. It might work."

  "Be careful, Mateo. You look very tired."

  "I'll turn in early. Let's have breakfast at your place tomorrow, eh?"

  Hall found a phone booth in a tobacco shop near the Embassy. He calledJerry.

  "I knew it would be you," she said. "I was waiting for you to call, youdog."

  "I hope you're hungry," he said. "I'm taking you to dinner."

  "I'm famished. Where are you?"

  "I can be at the Bolivar in about fifteen minutes. Meet me in thelobby?"

  "All right. But hurry. And just in case you've forgotten what I looklike, I'll be wearing a red carnation."

  He became part of the growing multi-directional parade in the streets.Nightfall had brought colored torches to the hands of many of theHermanitos, and hundreds of new huge portraits of the four leaders ofthe United Nations. There was a new pattern to the street festivities.Now whole groups of Hermanitos, each marching behind a picture of one ofthe four statesmen, made their way through the crowds to the embassiesof the United Nations and then to the Plaza de la Republica, where theyparaded their signs and their sentiments in front of all the governmentbuildings and the Presidencia. After that, the marchers joined themilling groups of celebrators who just seemed to move around in slowcircles, singing, cheering, loudly wishing a long life to Anibal Tabioand the United Nations.

  The darkened Plaza was packed, torches in the hands of hundreds of thecrowd bringing more light to the ancient square than had been seen theresince the nation had been forced to begin conserving its fuel. Hall cutthrough the crowds toward the Bolivar, too excited to sense his fatigue.This is a night I shall long remember, he thought, this is the night Iwill tell my children about if I ever have any children. This is thenight that I saw the power of the common people, the night I sawdemocracy take to the streets of a nation's capital and tell the worldthat fascism's day of cheap triumphs is done. This is the night of themeek who shall yet inherit the earth.

  Through the shoulders of the crowd, he could see Jerry's red hair. As hedrew closer, he saw that she had two little girls in her arms. Thechildren were crying wildly, the tears choking in their throats andcoursing down their contorted faces.

  "There, there," Jerry was saying to them, "everything will be all right.You're only lost. We'll find out where you belong." But the strangeforeign words only added to the terror in the frightened hearts of thegirls.

  "What happened?" Hall asked Jerry.

  "They're lost. I was afraid they'd get trampled or something, Matt."

  He spoke to the kids in their own language, soothing, silly words. Thenhe took them in his arms while Jerry dried their tears with a perfumedhandkerchief. Between sobs, the little girls told Hall that they hadslipped out of the house to see the fiesta and had been having a swelltime until the crazy lady swooped them up, talking crazy words andkeeping them from going on their way.

  "Do you know where you live?" he asked them. They pointed toward theirown house. "We will take you there. And don't call the senorita a crazylady, little ones. She is your friend."

  "Are they lost?" Jerry asked.

  "Hell, no. Just tourists. Let's get them home, first."

  The girls lived nearly a mile from the Bolivar. They watched theparaders in silence while Hall carried them to their house, but when hereached their block the girls insisted that they could walk the rest ofthe way. "No," he laughed, "I'm taking you right to your door. And I'mwaiting in the street until you come to your window and throw me akiss."

  The girls, who had less than a dozen years between them, giggled and hidtheir heads in his shoulders. "We won't throw you a kiss," the older ofthe sisters said, shyly. "You aren't our _novio_."

  "These little devils!" he laughed to Jerry. The girls began to squirm inhis arms. "No, little ones," he told them, "I won't make any more crazytalk like the senorita."

  "This is our house."

  He put them down on the first steps. "Now hurry," he said. "Upstairswith you, and be quick!"

  They scrambled up the stairs. "They're sweet," Jerry said. For a briefmoment, the faces of the two little girls appeared at the open window onthe first floor. Then the ample figure of a woman in a white cottondress loomed behind them.

  "Let's scram before they catch it," Hall said, but he was too late. Theshrill cries of the girls, as their mother flailed their behinds with arighteous hand, followed Hall and Jerry down the street.

  "Me and my Good-Neighbor policy," Jerry said. "It's all my fault."

  "They deserve it. What would you do to your kids if they joined astampede?"

  Jerry had to laugh. "The same thing, I guess. But what's all thecelebrating about? Is it the local Fourth of July?"

  "No. But I have a funny feeling that in years to come it might be. Yourpatient started it."

  "Tabio?"

  "President Anibal Tabio. He decided not to die today. He got out of bedand addressed the opening session of the Congress and called for war onthe Axis."

  "You're kidding me again, Matt."

  "The hell I am. I was there. I saw him myself."

  "But he's paralyzed, Matt."

  "He spoke from a wheel chair." He told Jerry abo
ut the speech, and asthey walked through the dense crowds toward a restaurant, he translatedsome of the signs carried by the people who swarmed on all sides of her.

  "_Abajo el Eje_--that's down with the Axis. And that one says Long livethe United Nations. _Mueran los Falangistas_--death to the Falangists."

  "What are they, Matt?"

  "The Spanish fascists. Hadn't you heard of them before?"

  Jerry shook her head. "I still don't see how he got out of bed. He musthave done it on nerves alone. I was at the lab all day with Marina andTabio's X-rays."

  "He delivered a great speech, Jerry."

  "I'll bet he did. I guess nothing can stop this country from joining thedemocracies now, Matt."

  "No," he said. "Nothing but Gamburdo--if Tabio dies."

  They had to wait on a street corner while a line of students carryingred torches snake-danced across their path.

  "Where are we eating?" she asked.

  "I know a wonderful place facing the sea wall. It's very plain, but thefood is stupendous. We'll have to walk, though."

  "I'm game. It's fun walking in these crowds tonight. It's almost likeNew Year's Eve in New York."

  The restaurant was packed. The waiter had to put an extra table on thesidewalk for Hall and Jerry. "It's better from here anyway," Hall toldher. "We can see the ocean and get away from the din inside."

  A hundred happy men and women jammed the interior of the restaurant,singing to the music of the small orchestra, toasting the slogans whichwere all over San Hermano this night. Hall invited the waiter to drink atoast in sherry to Don Anibal, and then he ordered lobster salads andsteaks for Jerry and himself.

  "I missed you," he told Jerry and, hearing his words, he was startled torealize that he meant them.

  "You're just lonely. But I like to hear you say it."

  "No. I really missed you."

  "What's wrong, Matt? You look all in."

  "Nothing," he said. "I've had a long day. What do you think of thislobster salad?"

  Small talk. Make small, polite talk about lobsters and cabbages, talkabout the weather and your neighbor's garden, talk about anything beforeyou start talking love talk and then you'll forget why you have to talkto her at all. "You're beautiful tonight," he said, softly.

  "I'm ignoring you, Hall."

  Good. Banter. Nice cheap cafe-society banter. Have to play the game asshe is played; silly brittle talk about nothing. Break her down, keepher off guard, keep your own guard up. Talk about the lobster. Talkabout the steak. Make vacuous wise-cracks over the coffee. Now she'spleased with the guava pastry. Be the man of the world. Talk aboutguava.

  "You're talking down at me, Matt. I told you once before. I'm not reallystupid."

  "God, I'm sorry," he said. "I must have been groggy all through dinner."

  "You sounded it."

  "Can you walk?"

  "I'm too full."

  "Let's sit on the sea wall. It's the pleasantest spot in town."

  Hall bought a paper from a passing newsboy. They walked along the seawall for a block, and then he spread the paper out on top of the walland lifted Jerry to the broad ledge. They sat facing the sea, not sayingmuch of anything.

  "The beach looks so clean," she said. "Do you think ..."

  He leaped to the sand. "Take my hand," he said, "and bring the paperwith you." He spread the papers on the sand, laid his jacket over thepapers, and sprawled on the makeshift pallet. Jerry sat near him, tookhis head in her lap.

  "Poor Matt! You're so tired. Want to tell me about it?"

  "About what?"

  She stroked his face with soft, gentle hands. "About what's botheringyou, darling. Something terrible is happening to you."

  "There's nothing wrong."

  "You're such a bad liar, darling. I can see it in your face."

  "Only that?"

  "It's enough. That is, when you care for a guy."

  "You're sticking your chin out, baby."

  "No, I'm not. You're really a very gentle person. But you want to behard as nails, don't you, Matt?"

  "I don't know what I want to be, baby. I'd like to see the world a goodplace for little guys who like republics. I'd like to kill the bastardswho are fouling up such a world. It sounds very big, I know. But I'm notbig. I'm a little guy and I like the world of little people. Or don't Imake sense?"

  "I think I understand you, Matt."

  "Later I'll read you Tabio's speech. Or at least the high lights, inEnglish. You'll get a pretty good idea of the things I believe in."

  "What was it like on the other side, Matt? In the war, I mean. Or don'tyou want to talk about the war?"

  It's now or never, he thought. Tell her about the war, tell it to herstraight. If she's ever going to see it, she's got to see it now. "Idon't like to talk about it," he said, "but I will. I guess I owe it toyou to talk about it. I was there when it started, and I kept holleringthat it had started, but no one would believe me."

  "In Poland?"

  "Hell, no! In Madrid. The summer of '36. I reached Madrid in the fourthweek of July, and by September I'd seen enough of the Nazis and theItalians to know it was World War Two." The words came easily, the wholefabric. Tabio had told the story as a historian. This was the other wayit could be told, the way of the eyewitness, of the partisan. He toldher everything, about the fighting in Spain and about the slaughter ofthe innocents; about the grotesque ballets of death and disintegrationon the green tables of Geneva; about the arrows of Falange, reaching outfrom the festers of Spain to the New World. Everything but the role ofAnsaldo.

  "Now," he said, "I think you can guess why I'm so bothered about thiswar, why I sometimes act as if I have a very personal stake in it.Please try to understand what I mean, Jerry."

  She was silent for a long moment. "I think I do," she said. "For thepast few days I've been thinking about the war. Ever since--oh, you knowsince when. I've been thinking that if I don't do anything else, maybeI'll join the Army as a nurse when we leave here."

  "You've got it bad, haven't you?"

  "I don't know what I've got, darling. All I know is that I don't havethe right to be a Me Firster any more. Do you think I'm right aboutthat?"

  "Baby, listen to me. You don't have to go to Bataan to get into the war.It's spread everywhere. The front stretches from Murmansk to Manila toSan Hermano. And it's the same front."

  "But what can I do here?"

  Hall drew a deep breath. "Let's both have a cigarette," he said. "Thisis going to take some telling." He sat up, faced the girl, took herhands and held them firmly. "Now, what I'm going to say might soundharsh, Jerry. But you'll simply have to believe me."

  "What is it, Matt?"

  "How much do you know about Dr. Ansaldo?"

  "Only that he's a nice guy. He's never made a pass at me, he behaveslike a gentleman, and he's one crack surgeon. Don't tell me he's nogood, Matt. I just won't believe it."

  "You'll have to believe me," Hall insisted. "What do you know aboutAnsaldo's past? Do you know where he was during the Spanish War?"

  "I haven't the faintest idea. Do you know?"

  "Sure, I do. I saw him." Hall described his first meeting with Ansaldo.As he spoke, Jerry abruptly withdrew her hands. Trembling, she backedaway from him, started to get up.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  "I wish you hadn't made love to me," she said, simply. "Now I feelcheap--and used."

  "Don't say that. I ..."

  "You know it's true. You're not just another newspaperman. And you don'tgive a damn about me. It was Ansaldo you were interested in from thebeginning. That's why you were on the same plane with us on the wayhere. And that's why you ..."

  "You mean I'm a G-man? Don't be absurd."

  "Don't make it worse by calling me a fool. I liked you. I liked you alot. Don't make it worse now, Matt."

  "But you're dead wrong." He tried to put his arms around her. She shookhim off. "Believe me," he said, "I'm not government. You were right--butonly partially--about my original inte
rest in your party. But tonight Iwish to hell it were only Ansaldo who interests me. It would make thingsa lot easier all around. The other morning I was watching Marina when aSpanish ship came in. Someone didn't want me to watch. I was drugged.That's why I disappeared for a few days. It damn near finished me. I'vegot something on Ansaldo--before I'm through I hope to have enough tohang him. I mean it literally. I'm trying to have him fitted for thesame grave he thought I'd have. And it's going to be simple. What won'tbe simple is convincing the authorities here that you were an innocentbystander in the whole affair. Do you think I would talk to you this wayif things were as you suspect they are with me?"

  "I don't know what to think, Matt."

  "Don't stop liking me," he said.

  "Take me back to the hotel, please. I'm all confused. I want to believeyou. Honestly I do. But what am I supposed to do? You give me the choiceof matching one line against the other, and all the time I'll bewondering if both lines aren't fakes."

  "Listen to me, baby ..."

  "Don't 'baby' me. You've got sand on your jacket. No, don't, Hall. Justtake me back to the hotel, please."

  They walked to the sea wall in silence. Hall made a step for Jerry withhis hands, boosted her to the top of the wall. "I'll try to find you acab," he said. "But before we turn in, I'm telling you again that I'mnot government. I'm exactly what I said I am. Believe me, Jerry. Pleasebelieve me."

  "I don't know what to believe any more."

  "But you do believe what I said about Ansaldo, don't you?"

  "I don't know," she said, miserably. "Haven't you asked enough questionsfor one night? Show me your badge and subpoena me or something to theAmerican Embassy and I'll tell you all I know. Which is nothing. I don'tknow any more than I've already told you."

  Hall was flagging every passing car. "They're all private," he muttered."We'll never get a cab tonight. And for God's sake, stop sniffling. Evenif I am a G-man I won't bite you."

  "You shouldn't have played me for a sucker, Hall."

  "I didn't play you for anything."

  "Don't say any more, Hall. Please don't."

  Her attitude infuriated him. Furiously, he flagged a passing car, bitinghis lips in anger and frustration. He fought against yielding to hisanger. "Jerry," he said, "there's one thing I'll have to ask you to do.I'm asking as a private citizen. But whatever you think I am, you'llhave to do this one thing. I must insist that you don't tell Ansaldoanything about our conversation or about my having been in Spain."

  "Is that an order?"

  "Yes," he roared. "Yes, damn you, it's an order!"

  One of the cars he had flagged slowed down, pulled over to where hestood with Jerry. But it was not a taxi. It was a small chauffeur-driventown car. The young Marques de Runa sat alone in the back seat.

  "Good evening," he smiled. "Can I give you and your young lady a lift?You'll never be able to get a public car tonight."

  "Thanks." Hall took Jerry's elbow, pulled her toward the door. He madethe introductions, then climbed in after Jerry and shut the door. "Wewere just going to the Bolivar," he said.

  "Were you trying to escape from the mobs?" the Marques asked.

  "No. The lady has a bad cold. We thought the sea air might do it somegood."

  "You should try the mountain air," the Marques said. "I always take tothe mountain air when I have a cold, Senor Hall. Don't you think themountain air is better?"

  Hall let the question go unanswered. He was looking into the mirror overthe driver's seat, studying what he could see in the small glass of thechauffeur's face.

  "The mountain air, Senor Hall."

  "Oh, yes. Very dry. Perhaps the lady will try the mountain air. What doyou think, Jerry?"

  "No, thank you," she said, sharply. "I have hallucinations on mountaintops."

  The Marques thought this was very funny. But not too unusual, hehastened to add. "For example," he said, "once when I was on a skiingweek-end in Austria, three members of our party saw an apparition." Hechattered amiably about the experiences on that and other skiing trips,directing his words solely to Jerry. Hall ignored them both. He wasstill staring at the mirror, and, after catching the chauffeur's eyesfor the second time, he knew definitely that the man at the wheel wasthe little dog who had trailed him to the Ritz and then driven off afterAnsaldo's limousine with Androtten as his passenger.

  It was only when the car was less than a block from the Bolivar thatHall spoke again. "It's too bad," he said, his eyes trying to focus bothon the mirror and on de Runa, "it's too bad about the Phoenix Garageblowing up today."

  The chauffeur and the Marques started.

  "But--why?" the Marques asked.

  "Oh, I don't know. It's just that an officer in the British Embassy wastelling me just the other day that the Phoenix Garage was one of themost fascinating establishments in San Hermano. I was planning to visitthe garage myself tomorrow. I'm interested in garages, you know."

  The chauffeur stopped the car in front of the Bolivar with an abruptslamming of his brakes.

  Hall laughed. "Your chauffeur was daydreaming, I think."

  The Marques laughed, or tried to laugh, as if Hall had just made one ofthe funniest remarks ever heard in San Hermano. "That's what he is," theMarques laughed, "a man who dreams by day. Very good, Senor Hall.Excellent."

  Hall got out of the car, helped Jerry to the street. "Thank you againfor picking us up," he said. "And do something about your driver beforehe starts driving into people in his sleep."

  The car was in gear and on its way down the street before the Marquescould make his answer heard.

  "What was so funny about your crack?" Jerry asked.

  "I'll tell you tomorrow. Are we still friends?"

  "Stop it, Matt. Just leave me alone tonight."

  "Sure," he smiled. "Sleep on it. But please to keep the mouth shut,yes?"

  "I'm going to my room, Matt."

  "May I phone you in the morning?"

  Jerry ran into the hotel without answering. Hall stood in the street fora moment, watching the receding crowds in the Plaza. They started tobecome a blur in his heavy eyes. He entered the lobby. Souza was goingover a bill with two guests. Hall nodded to the night clerk, then wentinto the small bar of the Bolivar to have a drink while Souza got rid ofthe strangers.

  Only one of the four tables in the bar room was occupied. Androtten anda San Hermano coffee dealer sat at this table, three open coppercanisters between them. The Hollander was driving a hard bargain for twotypes of Monte Azul bean.

  "Mr. Hall," he smiled, "delighted to see you healthy again. Delighted ashell."

  "Healthy again?"

  "Damn rumors have been spread about the hotel that you were ill, Mr.Hall. Not seriously as hell, I hope? Why don't you join us? Mr.Rendueles has been trying to make a deal with me on some fairly choicebean."

  Hall downed his double Scotch. "No, thanks. I'd better get some sleep."

  "Yes. You look sleepy, Mr. Hall. I wonder if we'll ever find timefor--you know--my damn story. Eh?"

  "One of these days," Hall said. "We'll get the complete story,Androtten. All the facts, in complete detail. Good night." He paid forhis drink and went to the desk in the lobby.

  "Your key," Souza said. "I have it right here."

  "Thanks. What's new?"

  "Oh, nothing, senor. Nothing at all." Souza was being profoundlyimpersonal. "I hope you are feeling better, senor. Oh, yes, message inyour box."

  The message was from Souza himself, and the ink was not yet dry. "Ican't speak now," it read.

  "Thank you. Good night." Hall put the message in his pocket and went tohis room.

  He flung himself across the bed, yielding to the fatigue that wastearing at every nerve and muscle in his body. In the dark, he managedto get rid of his shoes and his suit, letting them drop to the floorwhen he had taken them off. He tried to think of all that had happenedthat day, of what he would have to do tomorrow. The fading shouts of thecrowds in the Plaza grew fainter. The bed grew softer. He fell asleep
.

  The phone bell woke him in a few minutes. Souza was calling. "SenorHall, the drinks you ordered are on the way upstairs," he said. "I amsorry for the delay, but we have a new waiter, and he is not accustomedto our system yet."

  "Oh, I get it." The _cabron_ of a night waiter was gone. The invisible,detested _cabron_ whom Hall had never seen. He half expected Miguelitoor Juan Antonio to be standing in the hall when he heard the knock onthe door. Instead, there was a short, swarthy man in his forties,balancing a tray of brandy and soda in his right hand, a professionalwaiter down to his flat feet and his bland smile.

  "Shall I bring it in, senor?"

  "Please. Set it down here, on the little table."

  The waiter closed the door, put the tray down. "_Companero_ Hall," hesaid, the bland smile gone, "permit me to introduce myself. I am EmilioVicente, delegate of the Waiters' Union." He shook Hall's hand, thengave him a calling card. It was Major Segador's private card.

  "Turn it over, _Companero_ Hall."

  The short message on the reverse side indicated that Hall was to trustVicente.

  "I am happy to know you," Hall said. "Will you have a drink with me?"

  "Some other time, _companero_. Tonight I have a message. Major Segadorsuggests that should you need any assistance in a hurry, you can callupon me. I am at your orders."

  "Thank you."

  Emilio Vicente picked up his tray. "_Companero_," he said, "it mightseem a little dangerous, but the Major assured us that you do not lackfor _cojones_."

  "What?"

  "Good night, _Companero_ Hall. You look as if you could use some sleep."