The Five Arrows

  _Chapter four_

  The alarm in the pigskin traveling clock Bird had given Hall as agoing-away gift went on at eight. Hall shut it off, glanced at theradium dial, and got out of bed. On the roof tops of the houses in oldSan Hermano roosters were crowing. Outside, trolley bells clanged ablock away from the Bolivar. Hall took the half-emptied bottle ofcarbonated water into the bathroom, poured it over his toothbrush,sprinkled the wet brush with powder, and scrubbed his teeth. The chargedwater filled his mouth with a vigorous foam. He rinsed his mouth withthe rest of the soda, bathed, shaved and dressed.

  There was nothing in his box at the desk. He handed the day clerk thekey and walked out to the street. At a little hole-in-the-wall stand onVirtudes Street he bought a glass of mouth-puckering tamarind juice. Afew steps down the narrow street there was a newsstand. Hall bought twomorning papers, found a cafe where he had a cup of coffee with hot milkand a toasted roll. He remained at his table in the soft morning sun,reading the papers and smoking a cigar, until nearly ten o'clock.

  According to both papers, Ansaldo and Marina were to make a preliminaryexamination of Tabio, and would then spend the rest of the dayconsulting with San Hermano physicians who were attending the President.There was no hint of what was actually wrong with the President, simplya repetition of the old statement that Tabio's condition was stillgrave.

  Jerry was on time for their breakfast appointment. She was wearing abright yellow suit of very thin cloth. "Hello," she said. "Still want tobe a tourist guide?"

  "More than ever." He caught himself wishing that this could be just anordinary date with a girl.

  "What's wrong?" she asked.

  "Why?"

  "You're scowling."

  "Sorry. My mind must have wandered. I'd never scowl at you."

  She smiled at him. "Thanks," she said. "I thought for a moment that I'dpulled a boner. The suit isn't too loud, is it?"

  It was his turn to smile. "God, no," he laughed. "It's perfect. Veryhungry? Good. We're eating right here in the hotel."

  They took a table near a potted orange tree.

  "How do you say ham and eggs in Spanish?" she asked.

  "_Jamon y huevos._ Want some?"

  "Uh huh. But I want to order them myself."

  "O.K. Order some for me, too." Hall hissed for the waiter.

  "What's the idea of razzing the guy?"

  "Relax, that's the way you call a waiter."

  Jerry smiled at the waiter when he reached their table. With a childishdirectness, she pointed first at Hall and then to herself. "_Jamon yhuevos_," she said.

  "That is all the Spanish the senorita speaks," Hall explained. "I thinkwe will have toast and coffee, too."

  "Well, well," the waiter said in accented English. "The lady speaksgood, no?"

  "No," Jerry laughed.

  "Well, well," the waiter said, "today is very nice and sunny. Verynice." He walked into the kitchen.

  "I have a perfect itinerary," Hall said. "Old San Hermano first; that'sthe historic colonial part of the city. Then, at noon, we take thefunicular railway to the top of the world for lunch. And afterthat--well, well, well, as the waiter said."

  They walked about San Hermano all morning. Hall showed her through theold fortress of the Duke of La Runa, which the government had restoredafter Segura was overthrown, told her about the early colonial historyof the city. They sat on the old sea wall for a few minutes, while Hallpointed out the Moorish and Spanish details of the stone houses alongthe sea drive above the wharves. The youngest of the houses was acentury old; the tile friezes along their bellies had all been importedfrom Spain in sailing ships. Jerry watched the sun do magic tricks ofblue and purple on the surface of the houses. They wandered through theold market places, deserted that day, but colored by the little stallsalong the sidewalks. Hall bought a large spray of gardenias for the girlfrom an itinerant vendor.

  "Where are those beaten-silver things you told me about?" she asked.

  "Later," he said. "There's plenty of time for that."

  "Where do we go now?" Jerry asked. "My feet are killing me."

  "From now on we ride." He found a taxi parked near the Cathedral, andthey rode to the funicular railway terminal at the base of Monte Azul.He told her how the railway was built by Segura, as they rode. "But itwas when the Tabio junta threw the Seguristas out that the damned cablecars meant anything to the people of the country themselves. You see,Jerry, Segura gave the concession on top of the mountain to one of histhugs. The new regime opened it up to the little guys. And wait till yousee what they did to the grounds."

  They shared the cable car with an old water colorist, and two otheryoung couples. "My God," Jerry exclaimed, when she saw the route thecars followed, "it's like climbing hand over hand up a sheer cliff!"

  "Don't worry. It's perfectly safe. In a way, though, I'm sorry this issuch a clear day. On a cloudy day, the tracks just vanish into the soupup there, and you feel that you are being towed into the clouds."

  The cars climbed for five miles, creaking, whining, grunting, butsteadily pushing on toward the peak. From the opened windows, Jerrycould see the Moorish villas at the base of the mountain, then theirred-tiled roofs, then the miles of scraggly wild orange trees. Thesweet, heavy odors of their blossoms filled the car.

  "Oh, look," she said, "the town is getting smaller. And the sea isgrowing bluer."

  "Wait until we get off," he smiled. "Then you'll really see something."

  The old artist took out a sketch pad, studied Jerry's excited face, andmade some quick strokes with a charcoal stick. Hall winked at the oldman. "_Hola, viejo. Que pasa?_"

  "_La mujer es muy bonita._"

  "_Muchas gracias_, Senor. _Es verdad._"

  "What are you saying to him?" Jerry asked.

  "He said you are very beautiful and I said that's the Lord's gospeltruth. He's sketching you, I think."

  "Can we buy it if it's good?"

  "I'll speak to him later. Up there."

  The car stopped at the terminal on the man-made plateau about a thousandfeet from the actual tip of Monte Azul. A wooden rail ran along the edgeof the plateau for about a quarter of a mile. Within the rail was thefunicular terminal, a souvenir stand, a tiny post office, and a largeopen-air restaurant.

  "Let's eat," Hall said. "You get hungry as a horse up there."

  They took a table with an enameled orange top near the rail. Largebarbecue pits hugged the mountain side of the restaurant, and under ashed roof three cooks presided over a row of steaming pots. From theirtable, they could see the mile-deep belt of mountain flowers which hadbeen planted in the days of the dictators and expanded by the democrats.There were flowers of every shape and color, but orange was the colorwhich spoke most frequently in the cultivated beds. Below the flowers,the mountainside seemed to be daubed with various shades of green andbrown. "But usually," Hall said, "the mountain is blue. Almost as blueas the sea."

  Jerry looked down at the sea. "I've never seen such a deep blue," shesaid.

  "I know. This is the bluest water in the world." He hissed for a waiter."I'm going to order a hell of a meal, young lady. A side of barbecuedbeef and some corn cakes the like of which you never tasted and--justtrust my judgment."

  "Can we get drinks here?"

  "They have a white wine that beats anything in France."

  The food was good and the wine was potent. When they were done eating,Jerry wanted more wine. "No more wine," Hall smiled. "Nibble on thischeese, and while you're nibbling I'm going to order a punch I've justcomposed in honor of this day. Let's call it Punch _Para Las MujeresBonitas_."

  "Whatever that means," Jerry said, dreamily.

  "Oh, it's wonderful. Black rum and passion-flower juice and tamarindaand wild cherry juice and--just wait. I'll be right back." He walkedacross the plateau to the outdoor bar and had a long discussion with theattendants.

  Jerry was staring into the sea when he returned. "You know?" she sighed.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I
was just thinking that I've been looking at the sea and notthinking at all."

  "Cigarette?"

  "Uh huh. Thanks for taking me up here. It reminds me of something nice,but I can't think of what."

  "I know," Hall said. "The minute you get here for the first time youfeel as if you've known this place all your life."

  The waiter brought a pitcher of scarlet punch and two tall glasses tothe table. Hall paid the check, and added a package of Americancigarettes to his tip.

  He filled the two glasses, tried a sip from his before handing one glassto the girl. "Let's see how this strikes you," he smiled.

  "It's delicious!"

  "Finish it and then try walking," Hall said, dryly.

  "We'll try walking later." They finished the punch in the pitcher, andthen Jerry looked at her face in a pocket mirror.

  "Oh, Mr. Hall," she sighed. "It ate away what was left of my lipstickand I think it gave me a red nose and I suppose I should powder andpaint but I won't."

  "Madam," he said, "you are under the influence."

  "I may be high, sir, but I'm not drunk."

  Hall got up and took her arm. "Shame on you, nurse," he said. "There'sstill a thousand sights to see up here."

  "Lead on," she commanded. "We'll see who's potted."

  Hall pointed to the edge of the restaurant. There was a mountain path atthat end, a graveled path leading into a park of streams and cypresses.They followed this path until the forest closed in around them, and theywere alone.

  "My feet," Jerry said. "These shoes were not meant for serious mountainclimbing."

  "My lady." Hall spread his brown gabardine jacket in the moss bankadjacent to a small stream. She took off her shoes and stretched out onthe jacket, her hands clasped under her head.

  "You know," she said, "if I weren't so full of food I'd take mystockings off and dip my feet in the creek. I just haven't the strengthto move."

  Hall lit a cigarette, put it in the girl's mouth. "If you ever dippedone of your dainty gringo toes in this burbling frigidaire," he said,"they'd hear your screams twelve miles out at sea."

  Jerry sat up and hummed the tune of "Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf."She took off her stockings, started to edge down toward the stream."Here, help me up." She extended a hand to Hall, who pulled her to herfeet. "I'm going wading."

  There was no scream when Jerry stepped into the water. Her breath juststopped. She yanked her foot out of the stream as if it were a blazinginferno, hopped around on the dry foot with tears in her eyes, and thenlay down on the jacket.

  "Well, anyway," she said, when she could catch her breath, "I didn'tscream."

  "No. You were brave." He took out a large handkerchief, started to rubthe foot which had been in the water.

  "I never thought I'd wind up here when I left New York," she said.

  "When do you go to work?"

  "Tomorrow, I guess. The President is a pretty sick patient."

  "Does Ansaldo think he can pull him through?"

  "He didn't say."

  "Did he find out what's the matter with Tabio?"

  "Not yet. That's what he's doing today."

  Hall wanted to ask her further questions about Ansaldo, but he wasafraid to betray his interest too openly. "Let's cut it out," helaughed. "This is a party, and we're talking shop."

  The girl sighed in contentment. "Oh, that's nice," she murmured. "Idon't care what we talk about, as long as we stay here."

  "Like it here?"

  "Right now, I wish I could stay here forever." She had her hands claspedunder her head, was talking to the tips of the cypresses as well as toHall.

  "Why don't you?"

  "It's like Shangri-La," she said. "We should both be two centuries old.How old are you, Hall?"

  "Thirty-six."

  "I'm twenty-eight. Honest. Not twenty-one. Twenty-eight. In two yearsI'll be over the borderline. Then I'll be an old lady. But right now I'mnot going to lie about my age."

  "Right now I don't think you could tell a lie. Not even a white lie."

  "No fair, Hall. First you get me drunk--only I'm not high any more--thenyou take me to Shangri-La. Can I call you Matthew? Or is it Matty orMatt the women in your life call you?"

  "My friends call me Matt."

  "My friends! There's no Mrs. Matt?"

  "No. Never has been."

  "I had a husband, once. Only I divorced him and became a nurse."

  "That when you left Ohio? Or was it Indiana?"

  Jerry turned her eyes from the cypresses and looked at Hall, who sat ather side, his face over hers. "Ohio," she said. "How did you know?"

  Hall bent over and kissed her lightly on the lips. She neither resistednor returned his kiss. "You sweet dope," he said. "I'm a Buckeye myself.Cleveland."

  "I'm from Columbus."

  "Pleased to know you, Miss Columbus. Did you know you have green eyesand there are little gold stars in each eye?"

  "Nope."

  "Nope. Sweet dope. No one ever told you."

  "He calls me names!" Jerry sat up and put her arms around Hall's neck."He calls me names." She put her slightly opened mouth against his lipsand pulled him closer, and together they sank to the ground. They laylocked in the one kiss, the girl's full breasts pressing against Hall'schest.

  "Don't," she whispered, "please. Ah, don't. Ah, Matt. Darling."

  He found her lips again. They were trembling, and he could feel thetremors which started in the pit of her stomach and rose to hershoulders. "Please, Matt," she broke from his grip and turned her faceto the ground. "Darling," she said, biting then kissing his hand. He puthis arm around her and kissed the back of her neck. She shuddereddeliciously. "Let's get up," she said.

  "We're alone here," he said.

  She smiled and kissed his hand. "I'm getting up," she said. "Let me situp, Matt."

  "Sure," he said. He sat up with her. She ran her hand lightly over hisface, brushing the scars, the flatness of his nose.

  "Gorilla," she said, and she kissed him softly on the mouth. "You toreoff one of my buttons, you ape."

  "Hello, Miss Columbus," he said, speaking with a Spanish accent. "It isa very nice day today. Very sunny."

  "Yes," she said.

  "Still want to stay here forever?"

  "Uh huh. Do I look too messy?"

  "No. Your hair could stand some combing."

  "Will you get me some more of that punch?"

  When she had combed her hair, they stood up and he took her hand andthey walked back along the graveled path.

  "Can we phone to town from here?" she asked. "Doctor wanted me to checkin at about five."

  "Going to work?"

  "Don't know yet."

  They had their punch. The light danced in Jerry's hair, gave it the sameorange tint which dominated the flower beds. "I forgot to tell you,"Hall said. "You're beautiful."

  Jerry swirled the scarlet drops on the bottom of her glass. "You don'tknow a thing about me," she said.

  "What should I know?"

  "Nothing. But can I tell you, anyway? I want to, Matt."

  "I want to know."

  Jerry sighed. "I told you I was married before, didn't I? It didn'ttake."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be. I'm not really from Columbus. That is, my home town is nearerColumbus than to any other city, but it's just a hick village in thesticks." She told her story in very few words. High school, and thenthree years at the State University, and then marriage to a small-townhigh-school principal some years older than herself. After five years ofsmall-town married life, Jerry came into a small inheritance, left theschoolmaster, and went back to get her degree. "I wanted to studymedicine," she said, "but I didn't have enough money, so I took upnursing instead. The idea was to earn enough as a nurse to go back tomedical school."

  "What happened?"

  "New York happened. I couldn't take hospital regimentation, and some ofthe doctors were so anxious to sleep with me that they got me some snapjobs. You know, sitting up with rich
lushes and hanging onto the girdlesof deserted dowagers who wanted to jump out of windows and handing theright scalpel to society surgeons while they carved out a million-dollargut."

  "It must have paid well."

  "Too well."

  "And so you became a glamour girl."

  "That's a pretty cruel way to put it, Matt. I'm not really a dope, youknow."

  "I know."

  "I guess I just stopped thinking because I was afraid to think."

  "Where does Ansaldo fit into the picture?"

  "I came with him because I admire his skill as a doctor. I can learnthings by working with him. He's fantastically good, Matt."

  "How long do you know him?"

  "Not long. He came to New York about six months ago to operate on adrunk who'd been my patient for months. The patient had fallen down aflight of stairs on my day off. Ansaldo invited me to be one of thenurses when he operated on the patient's spine. Are you interested inoperations?"

  "A little. Why?"

  "It was amazing. I thought I had seen some good surgeons at work. ButAnsaldo is more than good, Matt. He's great. After that first operation,I was his nurse for all of his New York operations. And naturally, Ijumped at the chance to come along. I'm a perfectionist, Matt. Some day,some day soon I hope, I'm going to go back to medical school. I've beensaving every spare penny I could. And what I'm learning from Ansaldocouldn't be taught in any school."

  "You amaze me," he said, honestly. It was hard to doubt her. He proddedher for details of Ansaldo's skill. She answered him earnestly, and withincreased enthusiasm.

  "But wait," she protested, finally. "I don't see why I should be tellingall about myself. I haven't talked like this to any man for years."

  "I haven't listened like this for just as long," he laughed.

  "But it's not good, I know," she said, her voice abruptly breaking.There were tears in her eyes, and she turned away. "I've gone and made afool of myself."

  "Why?"

  "I know," she said. "You probably have a wife and nine kids in New York.I bet you carry their pictures in your wallet."

  "Do I?" Hall handed his wallet to Jerry. "Look for yourself. Take outevery picture."

  There were three photos in all. The first was of Bird, his wife andtheir baby. "My publisher," he explained.

  There was a sepia photo of Hall pointing the lens of a camera at a bombcrater in Madrid. "London?" Jerry asked.

  "Yeah," he said. "London."

  The remaining photo showed Hall talking to an aged couple on a roadpacked with refugees. "France?" Jerry asked.

  Hall shook his head. "No. Belgium." Again he lied. The picture had beentaken in Spain.

  "Don't hurt me, Matt," the girl said. She was dry-eyed now, butsaddened. "Don't hurt me later."

  "I won't hurt you," he said. He wondered at that moment if he would beable to avoid hurting her.

  "Are you really alone?"

  "Alone?" He did not laugh. "God! I'm the loneliest sonofabitch in thewhole world."

  The girl smiled again. "I have half a mind to believe you," she said."Shall we get started back?"

  "O.K. It's getting late. Have dinner with me?"

  "I don't know, yet. Would you call the hotel and ask if there are anymessages for me?"

  "There's a phone in the souvenir stand."

  The girl bought a batch of picture sets while Hall was on the phone. "Dowe eat?" she asked when he came out of the booth.

  "No. They want you in the Marti Memorial Lab at the University atseven."

  "Shucks."

  "I phoned for a driver to meet us at the bottom in twenty minutes. Westill have time for a drive around the nicer parts of New San Hermano."

  They went to the terminal to wait for their car. The ticket agentglanced at Jerry and then he reached under his counter and brought up alarge envelope. "Senor," he said, "the painter left this for the lady."It was the sketch of Jerry, wide-eyed and happy as the car climbed MonteAzul. In the lower right-hand corner was an inscription Hall translatedfor her. "To a charming visitor--a memento of her visit to our freecity. Horacio."

  "It was sweet of the old man," Jerry said. "Tell the guy to thank himfor me, will you?"

  "I already did. But this is fantastic. An original Horacio water coloris worth a baby fortune. This sketch is valuable, Jerry."

  "Didn't you recognize him?"

  "Never saw him before in my life."

  Big Pepe was waiting for them with his LaSalle when they reached thebottom of Monte Azul. "How good are you with tourists?" Hall asked. "Iwant to show the senorita New San Hermano."

  "I can drive you with my eyes closed," Pepe said.

  Hall laughed. "Keep your eyes open. And your four wheels on thepavement," he said. "Or I'll kill you with your own gun."

  "I have no fears of you," Pepe said. "Get in."

  Hall held onto Jerry's hand as he described the sights that rolled bytheir window. Big Pepe handled the car like a model tourists' chauffeur.It rolled along smoothly, not too quickly, and when Hall tapped him onthe shoulder he would stop, the motor running softly while Hall made hisexplanations to Jerry.

  At six, Hall and Jerry agreed to have one last drink before parting forthe night. "Let's ask the driver, too," he suggested. "He's a nice guy."

  "Sure. So are you."

  "Pepe, how about joining us for a drink at that bar near the Libro delMundo?"

  Pepe turned around and grinned at them. "With many thanks," he said. "Iwill join you."

  "If we don't all join our ancestors first. Watch the road, you Asturianmurderer!"

  "I take it," Jerry laughed, "you were telling him to keep his eyes onthe wheel."

  "You're learning the language, _muchachita_."

  They found an empty table on the sidewalk. Hall and Jerry had Scotch andsodas. Big Pepe ordered coffee. He was very happy to be with them. Hebeamed continuously at the girl, and to Hall he swore that never had heseen a more magnificent woman. "Of course," he purred, "she could standmore meat, but for a gringo, she is most magnificent."

  "He says you're a sight for sore eyes," Hall translated.

  "Then tell him to look at my face."

  "The woman thanks you," Hall said.

  Jerry pointed to the bar. "There's the little Dutchman," she said.

  Androtten was standing alone at the bar, a wine glass in his hand.

  "I'll call him over. He's a lonesome bastard too."

  The Dutchman was delighted to see Hall. "This is indeed a damnsurprise," he said. "Join you at the table? Happy as hell to join you,Mr. Hall. Ah, the nurse of the great doctor. Tell me, nurse, do youthink the doctor could cure my rheumatism?" This, he made clear by hisgesture of holding his side in mock agony and groaning, was meant to bea joke.

  Hall translated the joke for Pepe.

  The driver nodded. "I understood most of it," he admitted. "One doesn'tdrive American tourists for a century and learn nothing."

  "Aha," Hall said. "Pepe knows a few words of English, it develops."

  Jerry turned to the driver, smiled sweetly at him. "Tell me," she said,"did you ever have your eyes scratched out?"

  Pepe grinned, shrugged his huge shoulders. "Did the senorita say I havenice eyes?" he asked Hall.

  "No, Pepe. She said your eyes can bring you trouble."

  The Asturiano closed his eyes and drew his finger across his throat,making the appropriate sounds. "I understand perfectly," he said.

  "Let's sit down one of these days," Androtten said to Hall. "I amwilling as hell to give you the damn story of what the Japanese did tome in Java, if you are still damn willing to listen."

  "Oh, I am. Anxious as hell, Mr. Androtten." He explained to Big Pepewhat had happened to the little man. Pepe's face instantly reflected hisdeep sorrow.

  "I hate to break up this nice party," Jerry said, "but I have to go towork."

  "Can we take you back to the Bolivar, Mr. Androtten?"

  "Not just yet. I have a damn appointment here at seven."

  Hall put s
ome money on the table and followed Jerry to the car. "Iforgot to tell you," he said. "There'll be a government car waiting topick you up at ten to seven."

  "The poor man," Pepe sighed. "The cruel Japanese!"

  "It's been a wonderful day, Matt."

  "When do we repeat it?"

  "Can't tell. I'll leave a message for you tonight when I get back."

  Hall ate alone after Jerry went to the laboratory, and then wanderedaround the dark streets of the waterfront, thinking how he couldorganize his work. That was the damned job, always. Planning your moves.Deciding exactly what it is you're after and then organizing a method ofgetting it. The letter to Santiago. That was a good start. With luck,there would be an answer in a week. But was a week too far away? Howsick was Tabio, and could he hold out for another week? And anyway, wasAnsaldo a fascist?

  The face of Varela Ansaldo would not leave Hall's mind. Maybe Fieldingcould find out something, anything. At this moment, Fielding wasprobably eating a little crow with his dinner at the British Embassy.But would they tell Fielding anything? Did they know anything? And whothe hell was Fielding and how in hell did he get the dope in hisreports? _No, my fine impertinent friend, I am not a British agent._ Hewas the father of Sergeant Harold Fielding who hopped out of the wickerpony cart and picked up one of those thin rifles and died at Jarama.

  Santiago's answer. There was the best bet. If the boys in Havana had nodope, at least they would tell him who to contact in San Hermano, and itwas a safe bet that when Pedro de Aragon (or would it be a love letterfrom Maria de Aragon?) wrote, the letter would lead him to someone whowould know Souza and Pepe Delgado. They were O.K., but just a littlecautious, and this business of squiring Ansaldo's nurse would not settoo well with them unless Ansaldo was not Gamburdo's man at all.

  Hall was turning a corner when he first noticed the little man walkingin the shadows of the opposite sidewalk. A little man in a black suitand a dirty stiff straw hat. Hall slowed his steps, waited for the manin the straw hat to walk closer to the yellowed street light. The manslowed down, too. Hall kept walking. He headed for an avenue, found acab, told the driver to take him to La Perrichola. He looked around tosee the little man get into the other cab at the stand.

  "I changed my mind," Hall told the driver. "Take me to the Ritzinstead."

  He walked slowly into the lobby of the Ritz. It was one of the moremodern hotels in New San Hermano. He found a phone booth and calledSouza. "Where's Pepe?" he asked.

  "Right outside. Do you need him?"

  "Very much. Tell him to pick me up near the back entrance of the Ritz.I'm too drunk to trust a strange driver."

  Souza laughed. "You Americans," he said. "Pepe will be there in fiveminutes."

  Hall went to the bar, had a short brandy. The little man was sittingbehind a potted palm near the street doorway, his face buried in amagazine. Hall looked at his watch and walked to the elevator. "Sixthfloor," he said.

  He walked through the sixth-floor hall, took the back stairs to thefourth floor, and then looked out of the window at the landing. BigPepe's LaSalle was parked near the servants' door. Hall listened for thesound of footsteps on the stairs above him. Quietly, he walked to thebasement, nodded at a waiter relaxing on a bench near the door, andwalked slowly to the LaSalle.

  "_Que pasa?_"

  "Trouble. Drive a few blocks down and then come back slowly toward thefront of the hotel."

  "Sit with me," Pepe said. He tapped the pistol in his pocket.

  "No." Hall got down on the floor of the back part of the car. "And takeyour white hat off."

  The car shot down three streets, then Pepe turned the corner, rode ablock, and started to crawl along the street on which the main entranceof the Ritz opened. "Souza said you were in trouble," Pepe said. "Hesays you are not a _borracho_."

  "I was followed. Watch for a little man in a black suit and a stiffstraw hat. Park a block from the entrance to the Ritz and keep yourmotor running."

  "_Claro._"

  "I think he tried to sell me perfume this afternoon when I was walkingwith that nurse."

  "She needs no perfume," Pepe said.

  "She is not my woman," Hall said.

  "Did you see that other woman who came with the doctor?" Big Pepesnorted violently. "I hate _maricones_," he said.

  "I hate them too, Pepe. Did you know that Franco is also a homosexual?"

  "They are all _maricones_. Hitler, Franco. They are all the same."

  "_Putas y maricones_," Hall said. "_La Nueva Espana!_"

  Big Pepe cleared his throat and spat out of the window. "Arriba Espana."Hall could feel the low, toneless laugh in the Asturian's throat.

  "I think I see your dog," Pepe said. He described him for Hall. "He actsas if he lost something."

  "Me."

  "Falangista?"

  "I don't know. Ever seen him before?"

  "Who knows? _Mira!_"

  "I can't look. What's he doing?"

  "Hiring a car."

  "Follow him. But ..."

  "_Mira, chico_, that I can do with my eyes closed. And he won't know mefor the offal on the streets."

  "Don't lose him."

  "I'd sooner lose my _cojones_." He started the car, slowly. "I ammagnificent at this," he said.

  "Good."

  "During the war I did this all the time."

  "When he stops, watch where he goes but don't stop yourself. Keep goingafter he stops."

  "Don't worry," Pepe said. "I am not new at this."

  "Very good."

  "That girl with the nice hair, _companero_. Why don't you take her intoyour bed some night? I think she would be very good there."

  "Forget the girl."

  "That will be very hard."

  "Where are we?"

  "Still following the little dog. We're moving toward the Plaza."

  "Pepe. The Englishman's son. Did you know him?"

  "He was very young. I only saw him once. He was very brave, _companero_.The Centro Asturiano sent flowers to his father when the boy was killed.He died for the Republic, you know." Pepe slowed the car.

  "What's the matter?"

  "He's stopping. We're on the Calle de Virtudes. He's going into a cafe.I'll keep going."

  The car covered another block. Pepe turned the corner and stopped. "Youcan sit up now," he said.

  Hall saw where he was. "Which bar did he go to?" he asked.

  "El Siglo. There's another cafe next door. You can sit behind a hedge ata table there and watch El Siglo. I have done it many times. I'll parkthe car across the street and watch for you."

  "Do you think we can do this alone?"

  "Why not?"

  "What do we have to do?"

  "Who knows? It is the little dog's next move."

  "But could you get some friends now?"

  "Yes. How many?"

  "A few. I'll keep an eye on El Siglo."

  "All right," Pepe said. "But we shouldn't lose the little dog."

  "That is a chance we must take. If we lose him tonight, we will followhim tomorrow. He will be in my footsteps again."

  "That is true," Big Pepe said. "I will be back soon." He drove off downthe back street.

  Like El Siglo, the cafe where Hall found a table near a boxed hedge onthe sidewalk faced the entrance to the apartments of the Presidencia.The lights were on again in the fourth floor. Hall wondered if thedoctors were poking poor Tabio at that moment.

  He ordered a pot of coffee and sat back to watch the entrance to ElSiglo. A newsboy sold him a late paper, but Hall gave up trying to readit after a few minutes. He bought a box of wax matches and some cigars,turning his back to El Siglo when the tip of his first match flared intoflame.

  Less than ten minutes after Hall started his vigil, the little man inthe straw hat walked out of El Siglo and sat down behind the wheel of aRenault parked at the curb. He sat alone in the car, his face turnedtoward the Presidencia. Hall looked nervously up the street for a signof Big Pepe. He jotted the license number of the Renault dow
n on themargin of his newspaper.

  There was still no sign of Big Pepe.

  The man in the Renault pressed the squeaky rubber horn twice. Anotherman walked quickly out of El Siglo and got into the back seat of theRenault. Hall squirmed in his chair and looked vainly for Big Pepe. Thepassenger was Wilhelm Androtten.

  Hall watched the Renault start to move up the Plaza. It rode around theentire Plaza, and, as it started to pass the cafes again, Hall saw thatit was following a black limousine which had just left the Presidenciaafter picking up two passengers.

  The black limousine was doing about thirty, picking its way outcarefully in the half darkness of the old city. As it passed directly infront of Hall's table, one of the people sitting in the back seat lit acigarette. In the light of the match, Hall could see that it was VarelaAnsaldo.

  He had to wait another ten minutes for Big Pepe, who returned with twoyoung men. "We lost him, Pepe."

  "_Hijo de puta!_ I told you."

  "Relax. I know who he works for. We can find them on our own terms now.I saw them."

  "Who?"

  Hall looked at the two young men sharing the front seat with Pepe."Introduce me to your friends," he said.

  Big Pepe grinned. "That is your right," he said. "This is my nephewMiguelito, and this is Juan Antonio Martinez. They're school teachers."The last he said with almost boastful pride.

  The teachers were both slim lads in their early twenties. Hall shooktheir hands and got into the back of the car. "Let's drive out to thebeach and talk," he said.

  "No," Miguelito said. "It would not be wise. There are too manystrangers there."

  His colleague grunted. "Your pistol, Miguelito," he said. "Take it outof your pocket. It is digging a new hole in my arse."

  "They talk that way all the time," Pepe said, tolerantly. "But they arevery educated."

  "I am sorry if I talk like a worker," Juan Antonio said to Pepe. "Myfather was only a miner. I apologize, Your Eminence."

  "He is joking," Pepe said. "Miguelito, you are a Bachelor of Arts. Tellme, do workers joke, too?"

  "Quiet, both of you," Miguelito said. "_Companero_ Hall will think we'reall crazy."

  Hall laughed. "I've seen boys like you before," he said.

  "We were too young to go then," Juan Antonio said. "But if they try ithere, the streets of San Hermano will run with blood before we let thefascists win."

  "Juan Antonio is a Communist," Big Pepe said.

  The boy did not deny it. "Remember my words," he said, "the flag of theFalange will never fly over San Hermano."

  "Not if we are still alive," Miguelito added.

  "Will you listen to these children?" Pepe asked. "As soon as you turnyour back they put on the _pantalones_ and make the noises of a man!"

  "This little dog of a fascist who followed you," Miguelito said, "who ishis superior?"

  "I don't know, _companeros_. It could be Hitler...."

  "It could be Franco," Big Pepe said.

  "He said that," Juan Antonio said. "He said Hitler, didn't he,Miguelito?"

  "Quiet," Miguelito said. "This is no joke. You said you saw him with hissuperior?"

  Hall smiled at the boy. "Listen, _chico_," he said, "men with morepistols than you have tried to put words in my mouth before. All theygot from my mouth was my spit."

  "_Ole!_" Juan Antonio punched Miguelito's shoulders with glee.

  * * * * *

  Souza was reading a fat book at his desk when Hall returned to theBolivar. He greeted the boys with familiarity. "They are reliable," hesaid after they left.

  "I know. I was sober when I called you before. But tonight your reliableboys nearly drank me under the table trying to find out who was with thelittle dog."

  "The one who followed you to the Ritz?"

  "The same one. They also told me that you are President of the HotelClerks Union."

  "I am."

  "Got a cigarette? Thanks. No, I've got matches." Hall looked around tosee if he and Souza were alone. Quietly, he said, "Androtten was the manI saw with the little dog."

  Souza's face grew grimmer. "I don't think I am surprised."

  "Who is he?"

  "I don't know. But I don't trust him."

  "Maybe this will help you." Hall handed him the license number of theRenault. "It's the number of the car they used."

  "It will help," Souza said.

  "What time did Ansaldo get in?"

  "He did not get in, yet. Why?"

  "Androtten was following his car, I think."

  "Androtten is out, too."

  "Maybe we have something."

  "You have a message in your box." It was a note from Jerry. She wasgoing to work all day and had to attend a party at the American Embassyin the evening. But she would call him in the morning.

  "I am watching her," Hall explained.

  The trace of a smile flitted across the long face of the night clerk. "Iknow," he said. "Pepe told me."

  "I'll kill him," Hall laughed. "I'm going to bed. Leave a note in my boxabout when they get in."

  He went to his room. When he turned on the light, he saw that a note hadbeen slipped under his door. It was from Jerry. "Thanks for a lovelyday," it said. "I will call you before I leave for the lab."