Red Jungle (39 page)

He’d told no one about what had happened. He was proud that he’d kept his promise and helped her son until the boy had decided to do what he was going to do. And now Antonio didn’t know what to do to stop him.

He hadn’t expected Russell to ask him to come back to this apartment. He couldn’t refuse the boy, of course; he was sure Russell would die. Antonio told himself again, as he waited for the door to open, that Russell had made his own decision to kill Blanco. It had just been so unexpected. Who can tell about a person, Antonio thought, breathing a little hard after climbing the stairs. Russell should never have come back here, that would have been better.

He was about to reach for the bell again when the door opened and Olga let him in.

“I’m here to collect some things for the young gentleman,” he told Olga. She’d aged so much, and she was so stooped now, he hadn’t recognized her. Then he saw the shoulder, and remembered. “Olga? Olga, is that you?”

“Sí, señor,
” she said.

“Olga! My god! I thought you’d gone to the United States like everyone else. Where have you been all these years?”

She looked at him.

“Don
Antonio?”

“Yes. Isabella’s friend. Do you remember?”

“Sí, Don
Antonio,” Olga said.

He took her hand and held it a moment. “God, it’s been so long, Olga.”

“Si
,
Don
Antonio,” the old woman said.

He looked at her for a moment longer, then let go of her hand. “You came to my parents’ house after Isabella . . . after that awful time.” He remembered now how Olga had searched for Isabella.

“Si
,
Don
Antonio.”

“My family was beastly to you. I’m truly sorry. I was out of the country studying. I’m so sorry for what happened.”

She shook her head in acknowledgement of the time she’d spent standing out in front of his house in the rain, coming back every day, trying to get an answer as to what had happened to her mistress. She’d collapsed out in front of the house and been taken to the public hospital, where she’d almost died of pneumonia. The war started in earnest right after that.

“Pase Usted,
” Olga said, and led him down the dark hallway.

Antonio followed her. He remembered looking out the window once or twice at the silly Indian girl who’d stood in front of his parents’ house in the rain. At the time, he thought she was mad or interested in blackmail. He’d gone to the university in Chicago soon afterward.

“Don
Russell was using his mother’s room,” Olga stopped at the doorway. “Would you like a cup of coffee,
Don
Antonio?” she asked, her face expressionless.

“Yes. Thank you, Olga. Yes, please.” He walked into Isabella’s bedroom and back into his youth. Olga watched him. He looked old, she thought, and fatter. He had been a handsome young man, very thin.

She turned around and went to the kitchen. She put the blue iron pot on the stove and turned up the gas. For a moment she saw herself standing in the rain. She listened to the water in the pot start to move and dance. She’d been pregnant then, but hadn’t even known it.

She turned and looked at De La Madrid. Like all of his class, he’d taken it upon himself to sit at the dining room table and wait to be served. She closed the door to the kitchen, got out the rat poison and spooned it into the bottom of the cup. Then she filled the cup with essence of coffee, two teaspoons of sugar, and hot water.

She opened the door to the dining room and served De La Madrid. Afterwards, she went back into the kitchen, sat in the same chair she’d sat in years before, and waited.

1988
Guatemala City

Dearest Russell,

Antonio De La Madrid and I are getting married. I wanted to write to you as soon as he proposed, but I had to run to the plantation yesterday because of the harvest. I tried to call you from there, but the beastly Communists had cut the telephone wires again.

So, darling — I just wanted to say that you will be able to come back here and live with us, if that’s what you want. I would like you to finish school there in the States, but you could come for a long, long visit. If you prefer, you can stay here. And there’ll be a house here in the capital, as Antonio wants me to find something for a new family. That

means you’ll finally have a brother or sister! I want you to take a semester off and get to know Antonio. I know you will like him. I don’t ever expect him to replace your father, that would be absurd. But I hope you and he can be great friends. I’ll finish this letter in the morning, as we are going to a party tonight. Good night, mí Capitan…

Antonio struggled against the rat poison. It had been violent and very painful. He’d run first into the bathroom; after he’d been sick, he’d staggered into Isabella’s room trying to vomit the rest of it up, but it was too late. He’d screamed for Olga, but she’d disappeared. In the bedroom mirror he saw his mouth white with foam; he’d grabbed at the hair brushes and pulled the glass top off the counter. It was there that Isabella had slid the letter to her son before she’d gone out that last night. Olga had found the letter and picked it up, seeing her mistress’s handwriting, but she couldn’t read it; she’d never learned to read. She threw it into the fire.

•••

“Where’s Carlos?” Russell asked. Beatrice was in jeans and a T-shirt, and looked upset. There was something wild and desperate in her eyes when he’d pulled open the door to his hotel room.

“Here in the Hotel. But he doesn’t know I’m here. He was to have a meeting with the Americans,” she said.

When she’d knocked on the door, he thought it might be Katherine, with an explanation for why no one had shown up. Seeing Beatrice was completely unexpected.

He’d gone over a thousand times how he was going to shoot Blanco. He planned to shoot Blanco by the escalator as the president rode it up from the lobby to the ballroom. Russell had gone down and selected a place to stand. Then he’d come back to the suite to wait.

He looked at his watch. Blanco would be arriving in two hours. “I went to your mother’s apartment looking for you,” Beatrice said. “I’ve decided to leave him . . . Carlos. I don’t care. I’ve taken the children . . . I’ve brought Olga,” she said. “She’s downstairs in the car park with the children now.”

“What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” he said.

“Russell . . . Olga’s killed Antonio,” she said.

“What are you talking about?” He glanced again at his watch. It was a quarter to six. He had to go downstairs soon, if he wanted his place, before the crowds got too big.

“Antonio is dead, Russell. I saw him. . . . She begged me to take her away. She’s killed him, and she’s terrified. She begged me to take her home to your mother’s plantation. I didn’t know what to do. She said you were here at the hotel, that Antonio told her.

“I’ve taken the children,” she said again. “They can’t grow up with Carlos. I won’t have it. I want to be with you. I can’t stand it anymore.”

What she’d said seemed crazy, and he wasn’t sure she hadn’t gone mad. He slapped her. It was involuntary; all the tension of waiting for nothing made him do it.

“You’re lying.” He held her by the shoulders and shook her. “I just spoke to him. You lying bitch.” Her face was red where he’d slapped her.

“No. He’s dead.”

“Why are you lying?” He let her go.

“I’m not.” She was holding her face.

“I’ll call him right now. You’ll be sorry you did this,” he said. “Did they put you up to it?” He went to the couch, picked up his cell phone and dialed Antonio’s cell number. He got the voice mail message.

She hadn’t moved.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not lying. He’s dead. I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

“You are lying and I don’t know why, but I can’t forgive you. Not for lying to me about this. They sent you, didn’t they? Carlos. You’re working for them now. Is that it?”

She shook her head. He closed his phone. He had a horrible desire to hit her again, but stopped himself.

“I came because I love you. Please don’t hit me again. I’ve left Carlos. I wrote him a note. He’s going to know about us when he gets home. I couldn’t stand it anymore. Any of it. I want to be your wife. I want you to take me and the children away from here.”

“If you’re lying . . . I’ll. . . .” He reached for the pistol he’d shoved into the couch pillows, pulled it out and walked towards her. She didn’t move.

“You told Carlos. That you’ve left him?” She shook her head yes. “Are you working for them? Is that why you’re lying about Antonio?”

“No! Stop it. You’re scaring me, Russell. I’ve got the children downstairs, for God’s sake! We have to go
now
. We have to leave. We can be in Mexico before the announcement. Antonio’s dead, and I’m not lying about that. Why in God’s name would I lie to you?

“Are you listening to me? We don’t have much time. Carlos will be President in a few hours. I’ll never get the children away from him then.” He was standing there staring at her, the gun in his hand. “He’ll never let me leave with the children once he’s been named President. You know that.”

He saw suddenly that she wasn’t lying.

“Why did she do it?” he said.
“Why?”

“Russell, I don’t know why. But we have to go. Now. We can take Olga with us if you like. You know what they’ll do to her if they arrest her. She’s an old woman. I couldn’t leave her there. She was pathetic, just sitting in the kitchen staring

at the wall.”

“I can’t go with you. Not now,” he said. “It’s too late.”

“What do you mean? It’s two hours to Mexico. He won’t notice I’ve gone until late tonight.”

“I have to kill Blanco. Now. In a few minutes.”

“What?”

“I have to. You don’t understand. If Blanco makes that announcement, Carlos will be President,” he said.

“What difference does it make who’s President? We
have
to go now. It’s our only chance to take the children.
Please
. Russell, I’m begging you.”

“Don’t, because I can’t. Not now. You don’t understand. It doesn’t matter about Antonio. There’ll be someone else… anyone but Carlos,” he said.

“I won’t let you do it. They’ll kill you,” she said. She took her cell phone out of her coat pocket and began to dial. “I’ll tell Carlos what you’re planning.”

He grabbed her phone away from her and threw it across the room, against the door of the bathroom, smashing it. She collapsed in a heap on the floor, and was crying. He bent over and lifted her up. “I want you and the children to go to the hotel Lago in Puerto Barrios. Register under the name of Molly Jones. Take the children, and take Olga. I’ll meet you there in three days. Do you understand?”

“But they’ll kill you.”

“Maybe. You’ll know soon enough if they do,” he said. “If they do, you can take the children to Honduras from there. There’s a British consulate office in Tegucigalpa. They’ll help you get to England.”

“You
promise
me you’ll come?” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ll come in three days. But Carlos will have to die now, too. I can get close to him. I’ll have a chance.” He looked at her. “Can you live with that? If I make it, they’ll have to grow up with the man that killed their father.”

“I don’t care,” she said. “As long as you come to Barrios in three days.” She threw her arms around him. “I don’t care about Carlos, just come to Barrios. Please.”

•••

“I’ve got the Jaguar. Here,” Russell said. He’d dialed the general’s cell phone. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the Camino Real,” Carlos said. “I thought you said Mahler had it.”

“He did. He’s brought it out. It’s at
Tres Rios
. We’ll sell it to you for two hundred thousand dollars cash. . . . In an hour.”

“Wait a minute, I can’t speak here,” Carlos said. Russell heard the sound of voices, and he guessed that the general was in the café downstairs. “Why so cheap?” Carlos asked finally.

“Because we can’t sell it, and you can. You’ll be President. It shouldn’t be a problem, should it? You can sell it back to the state, right?”

“You’re very clever. All right, I’ll get the money,” Carlos said.

“I want you to fly me to
Tres Rios
in your helicopter. You can have the whole thing, the plantation and the Jaguar. You will be back in time for the ceremony. By the way—congratulations, Mr. President.

“I’ll meet you in the lobby in—” Russell glanced at his watch “—in half an hour.”

“Fine. Is it big? The Jaguar?” Carlos asked.