The Adventurers (18 page)

I went through another doorway into a small foyer. There was a closed door at the opposite end which two soldiers were guarding. One of them opened the door when he saw me.

I came to a dead stop in the doorway. Two priests were already there; a portable altar had been set up at the foot of the bed and the flickering light of the candle cast a wavering shadow of a crucifix onto the wall. One was kneeling before the altar; the other, bending over the bed, held a crucifix above my father's face. On the opposite side of the bed was a doctor, a hypodermic needle in his hand.

My legs were suddenly leaden. I stumbled as I came into the room and caught a chair to right myself. "Papa!"

Then I was at the side of the bed, tears running down my cheeks. His face was ashen gray and I could feel the cold sweat on his cheek as I bent to kiss him. He didn't move.

I looked at the doctor. "He's dead!"

The doctor shook his head.

"Don't lie to me!" I shouted. "He's dead!"

I put my hands under my father's shoulders to lift him. My father groaned and I lowered my hands as if I had been scorched. There was an empty space on his left side. I stared at the doctor. "Where is his arm?"

The doctor's face was expressionless. "It was blown off by the explosion."

I sensed a flicker of light coming from over my head and, looking up, I saw that the canopy over the bed was mirrored. I could see the weird shapes we made as we stood about the bed. Slowly I looked around the room. It was all red velvet and gilt. On the walls hung paintings of nude men and women. And in each corner were statues of couples in obscene embrace.

My father groaned again. I looked down at him. The beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. The doctor leaned over and wiped them away as I slowly got to my feet. "Take him out of here!"

"No," the doctor said, "it is dangerous to move him."

"I don't care!" I shouted. "Take him out of here! I won't have him die here in this whore's room!"

I felt the priest's hands on my shoulders. "My son—"

I shook myself free. "I want him out of here! A harlot's bed is no place for a man to die!"

The doctor started to speak, then fell silent as a voice came from behind me. It was el Presidente's. He stood in the open doorway, the bandage still around his naked chest. "The child is father to the man," he said. "You will do as the boy commands."

"But—" the doctor protested.

"He will "be taken, bed and all, to my own room in the residencia!"

El Presidente's voice was final and commanding. He gestured to the soldiers in the hallway behind him. They covered Papa with more blankets. It took ten of them to lift the heavy bed and carry it out of the house and down the walk to the residencia. Fat Cat and I followed silently, and it wasn't until I had seen my father moved into el Presidente's own chamber that I turned to the priest who had come from La Cora's bedroom with us. "Now, Padre, I shall pray!"

The faint light of morning was just coming into the room when el Presidente opened the door an hour later. He stood looking at me for a moment, then crossed to the bed where my father lay. I watched him as he stood there silently. His face showed no expression.

Then he turned. "Come, soldadito. It is time for breakfast."

I shook my head.

"You can leave him. He will live."

I looked into his eyes.

"I would not lie to you," he said quietly. "He will live."

I believed him. He put an arm around my shoulder as we started out of the room. In the doorway I looked back. My father seemed to be sleeping. I could see the rise and fall of the white coverlet over his chest.

We went downstairs. The smell of hot food came to my nostrils, and suddenly I was hungry. I sat down at the table in the dining room and a servant placed a platter of ham and eggs before me. I began to eat ravenously.

El Presidente sat in a chair at the head of the table and another servant brought him a cup of steaming coffee. He wore a loose-fitting shirt, so I could not see whether he was still bandaged, but he moved his arm awkwardly as he lifted the cup.

"Now do you feel better?" he asked as I pushed back my empty plate.

I nodded. A servant put a cup of cafe con leche before me. I raised it to my lips. The coffee was hot and good. I sipped it, then put the cup down. "What happened to La Cora?"

El Presidente's eyes flamed. "La puta, she got away!"

"How?"

"She left the room when the ice cream was placed upon the table. She said she wished to freshen up, but instead she left the grounds immediately in a black car. She and another, a man with a beard, were in the back seat. Her majordomo was driving." He picked up his coffee cup again. "But we will find her, and when we do—"

"Didn't the guards stop the car?"

"No, and already they have paid for their carelessness!"

"The bomb was in the ice cream?"

A surprised look came over his face. "How did you know?"

I told him of the conversation I had overheard yesterday under La Cora's window. He sat silently all through my accounting. When I had finished a knock came at the door. He nodded to a servant, who went to the door.

An army officer, a captain, entered and saluted. El Presidente negligently returned the salute.

"We have found La Cora and the majordomo, excelencia."

"Bueno." El Presidente rose to his feet. "I personally shall attend to those two."

"They are already dead, excelencia."

"I said I wanted them alive!" el Presidente shouted angrily.

"They were already dead when we discovered them, excelencia. They were in the black car in which they had made their escape. They had been shot, and their throats were also slit."

"Where was the car found?"

"La Calle del Paredos, Presidente."

I knew the road. It led from the mountains to the docks.

"Where on the road?"

"Near the bay."

"And the man with the beard?"

"There was no sign of him. We searched the whole area, even the docks. He had vanished."

El Presidente was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, Capitan."

He turned to me. "Now it is time for you to rest. I have had a guest room prepared for you. You will live here with us until your father has completely recovered."

I slept fitfully, and I was troubled by dreams. And in one of them I was back in the yard of my grandfather's house. The sun was white hot and I could feel it burning into my brain as I kept hearing an oddly familiar voice. "There is one bullet left in the gun. You will kill him!"

I rolled over and sat up erect in the bed, my eyes wide and staring. It was late afternoon, and suddenly I knew where I had heard that voice. La Cora's manager, Senor Guardas, the man with the beard, was Coronel Guiterrez.

I jumped out of bed and began to dress quickly. I didn't know how, but this time I would find him. This time he would not get away. Because I would kill him.

CHAPTER 23

Fat Cat fell in behind me as I came out of the room. I walked down the hall and stuck my head into my father's room. "How is he?"

"He is still asleep," the doctor said.

I turned and continued down the corridor toward the staircase. Amparo was coming up as I started down. Her hand stopped me. For once she wasn't playing the princess. "Is your papa all right?"

"Yes. He is sleeping."

"You were asleep, too," Amparo said. "I wanted you to have lunch with me."

"Later," I replied, starting down the steps again. "I have work to do."

I went out the front door and signaled for the car.

"Where are we going?" Fat Cat asked.

"To the docks."

I didn't wait for him to open the door. I jumped in and he climbed quickly into the front seat. He twisted around as the car began to move. "What for?"

"To find the man with the beard, the one who got away."

"How can you do that? The policia and el militar have searched the whole city. They could not find a trace of him."

I shrugged and directed the car to the pier where I had been yesterday. I walked down the dock to the catwalk. The same two boys were there, fishing around the piling.

"Campesinos!"

They looked up, their faces sullen. They exchanged looks, then concentrated again on their fishing.

"Campesinos!" I called again. "Yesterday you begged for a few centavos. Today I bring you one hundred pesos!"

This time they didn't look away, but stared up at me with disbelief in their eyes.

"Come up, I will not harm you."

They hesitated a moment, then laying down their fishing poles, came up onto the catwalk. The older boy took off his hat. "What is it you wish from us, excelencia?"

"To find a man." I gave them a brief description of La Cora's manager, Vandyke and all. "Sometime last night he was in this neighborhood. I wish to discover where he is now."

They looked at each other. "Such a man would be hard to find, excelencia."

"Harder to find than one hundred pesos?" I asked.

"La policia has already been looking for such a man," the bigger one said. "They did not find him."

"They did not offer one hundred pesos for information," I answered, and started back to the car.

"We do not wish trouble with the authorities, excelencia."

I turned. "There will be no trouble."

The two looked at each other. "We will see what we can discover."

"Bueno. I shall be back in two hours. If you bring me information you will be richer by one hundred pesos."

I walked back to the car. Fat Cat looked at me with a curious respect in his eyes. "Do you think they will find out anything?"

"If they are as hungry as you say they are, they will. Now take me home. I must get money."

I went straight to my father's den. I knew where he kept the small iron box—in the bottom drawer of his desk. The key was in a drawer on the opposite side. I opened the box and took out one hundred pesos. Then, because I was suddenly hungry, I went down to the kitchen and asked the cook to give me something to eat.

At four-thirty in the afternoon I got out of the car with Fat Cat and walked out on the dock.

"I told you they would find nothing," Fat Cat said smugly. "See, they are not even here."

"They will come."

We went back to the car and waited. It was almost twenty minutes before they did. Then they appeared in the mouth of the alley across the street, where they whistled, gestured, and disappeared. I crossed the street, Fat Cat right behind me, and walked back in the alley where we could not be seen from the street.

"Have you the money?" the older asked.

I took the hundred pesos from my pocket. "Do you have the information?"

"How do we know you will give us the money?"

"How do I know you will tell the truth after you receive the money?"

They looked at each other and shrugged.

"We are forced to trust one another."

The older one nodded. "At three this morning such a man as you describe boarded a ship at Pier Seven. The one flying the flag of Panama."

"If you have lied to me you'll pay for it!"

"We have not lied, excelencia."

I gave them the money, then turned and ran out the alley. At Pier Seven I got out of the car and located the ship, then started up the gangplank. But the sailor on duty at the top of the gangplank stopped me.

"We sail in an hour," he said abruptly. "No visitors."

"Come on," I said to Fat Cat, and started back down the gangplank.

I didn't even wait for the car to stop. I ran down the path and past the guards to the office of the president. El Presidente looked up from his desk in surprise. There were several men gathered around him, but I didn't give them a chance to speak.

"I know where Coronel Guiterrez is!"

"What has Guiterrez to do with this interruption?"

"He is also Senor Guardas," I said. "The man with the beard, the one who escaped."

El Presidente did not hesitate. He picked up the telephone on his desk. "Tell Capitan Borja to have a squad ready at the entrance to the office building immediately!"

He turned back to me. "Where?" "On a Panamanian ship at Pier Seven. We must hurry; they sail in less than an hour."

El Presidente started toward the door.

"But we dare not delay the sailing of a ship, excelencia," one of the others protested. "It would be a violation of our international agreements!"

El Presidente turned to him angrily. "To hell with international agreements!" Then he smiled. "Besides, who would dare protest a visit from the head of state? It will be an honor." He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me out the door in front of him.

The ship's captain was obviously upset. "I beg your excellency's indulgence. If we lose this tide we sail a half-day behind schedule."

But el Presidente was very suave. "Surely your government would be even more upset if you refused me an inspection of your ship, which I so greatly admire? I have heard much about the wonderful fleet of your great country."

"But, your excellency—"

El Presidente's voice turned suddenly harsh. "Capitan, I must insist. Either I inspect your ship or I impound it on charges that you have violated our hospitality by giving refuge to an asesino, an enemy of our country!"

"But we carry no passengers, your excellency. Only the crew, who have been with the ship since we sailed from our home port more than four weeks ago."

"Have the crew stand for inspection then!"

The captain hesitated.

"Now!" el Presidente ordered.

The captain turned to his first mate. "Pipe all hands to the bow deck."

A moment later the crew began to assemble. There were thirty-two of them and they formed a ragged double line down the center of the deck.

"Attention!"

The lines straightened up. The men stared straight ahead.

"Is this all the crew?" el Presidente demanded.

The ship's captain nodded. "Si, excelencia."

El Presidente turned to Capitan Borja. "Take a detail of two and search the ship. Make certain no one has hidden out below decks."