'If this is such a dangerous man, why weren't we informed, Senor Short?'
'I could tell you another lie, but I won't. The lying is no good. It was my decision. Everything was meant to be low-key, unnoticed. He himself did not even understand that we were on to him, or so we thought. But he was far cleverer than I gave him credit for, and he understood what fate awaited him. Thus he assaulted your men and managed to escape.'
'Well, then, we must begin a manhunt. He is almost certainly still in Havana. Why, we can blanket the city with his picture. We can put it on the television. We can describe him on the radio. Our Cubans are patriots and they will hunt for him if so instructed. He won't be able to move ten feet without being spotted. Our departments stand at the ready to prevent the spread of the communist plague.'
'Yes, I knew you'd say that, and that I could count on you. And I request your efforts in helping me locate him. I request your intelligence networks, your spies, your connections in the underworld. But I would prefer nothing of a large public nature to happen. We don't need more outrages of the sort that scare our businessmen and harm the investment climate. If your people can locate this man, I'd prefer if they hold off once they spot him. I have a team, a very special team, well trained and highly experienced, who will handle the actual details of the arrest. So I want no all-points bulletins and no television or radio announcements and no posters. No, I want it done on the hush-hush; that is, by word of mouth, by description, by interrogation, by observation-but not with a raid. I will handle the raid.'
'This is a very unique situation,' said the secret police chief.
'Yes, it is,' said Frenchy. 'And if it helps, I'd be happy to tell certain people how cooperative you've been. I'm sure that if I whispered certain things in certain ears, certain forms of aid could be forthcoming to each of your departments. Our budgets for fighting subversion are quite large. I have no problem citing the names of those men and departments who have shown special zeal in their duties. Those who hurt my enemies become my friends and I pay my friends in generous ways.'
'Then tell us what you require.'
Chapter 54
He found the card and a nickel, got the operator, gave the number, heard it ring, and waited for it to be answered. It wasn't and the nickel came back.
Earl looked around. He wasn't sure where he was. He'd raced through woods, followed a filthy stream until it led to some broken-down houses, cut over to something of a main drag. He moved quickly, keeping his eyes down, and nobody seemed to notice him. He spied a bus, ran after it, and gave the driver a buck. Then he waited for change. The driver would remember someone who hadn't picked up his change.
He rode till the end of the line, through the fall of night, to what seemed like the outskirts of the city. In the dark, he felt a little better, and he wondered what the hell to do. Go to the airport on his own? That seemed like a good way to end up dead. Call the embassy? But whatever Frankie Carbine's motives were, the intelligence that had made it happen had to come from the embassy. They were trying to get rid of him, not help him. Should he just try and get a boat out on his own? The U.S. was only ninety miles away by sea, a night's trip. Some fisherman could get him there. But what would he pay with? And whoever they were, wouldn't they be watching the docks?
He walked about, secretly aimless, but seeming possessed of sense and destination. He knew that aimlessness would be recognizable and memorable, whereas a sense of destination would not. He walked, walked, walked.
This was a swell mess, all right. Gangsters trying to kill him in a foreign country where he didn't know the language or the rules, or where to go, or who to turn to. He just wanted to get home and put this island behind him, one more island he'd survived. He wanted no triumph, no vengeance, no?
Then he remembered the woman. Yes, he had her card, yes it had her number. He went into a hotel, found a phone booth and thanked god for AT&T, which had wired Cuba from one end to the other, pretty as you please.
He got the operator, gave the number, waited for the ring and-
'Hello.'
'Thank god you're there. Do you recognize my voice?'
'Of course. I'd heard they kicked you out.'
'They did but then someone else tried to kill me. So I'm on the run. And you are the only person in this town I trust.'
'God, you have a talent for trouble. I never met a man with a talent for trouble like yours.'
'I won't argue with you there, Mrs. Augustine.'
'Jean. I told you, Sergeant Swagger, Jean. Where are you?'
'I have no idea.'
'Well, that's kind of silly, isn't it? How can I help if I don't know where you are?'
It was true, and here it was: trust or die. Or, possibly, trust and die.
'I seem to be across from a church. It's Catholic, and the sign says Santa Maria?'
'Do you have any idea how many churches of Santa Maria there are in Havana?'
'Well, this one is Santa Maria de la Marbella.'
'Of the beautiful sea. You are not far off the Malecon at its most eastern end. Go there. Go to a place-let's see, it would be called the Bodeguita San Juan. I don't think it's far. I'll be there inside an hour.'
'What will you be driving?'
'A Pontiac convert-no, no, I'll take Juanita's car. It's a prewar thing, a Dodge I think.'
'I'll look for you in an hour.'
He watched her from across the street, in the shadows. She pulled up directly out front, and waited, then finally pulled away after ten minutes. Nobody followed. She swung around again, slowed but didn't stop, then pulled away. Again, there seemed to be no cars in pursuit and, looking up and down the street, he made out no lurkers or observers. And she of course gave it another try, slowing then stopping.
He dashed across the street, opened the rear door behind the driver side, scooted in and sank to the floor.
'I hope that's you,' she said.
'It is me. Just pull out, no need to hurry, and go about two blocks and pull over. Then check and see if anybody behind you pulls over, too.'
'Wow,' she said, 'this is just like a mystery.'
'It ain't nowhere as much fun.'
She did as he directed, and then, that last security precaution passed, pulled out.
'I thought I'd missed you.'
'No, I was watching you. Sorry for the delay, but I wanted to make sure.'
'This is very exciting.'
He didn't say anything.
'You can stay at my place. My girl won't tell anybody. It's safe there. Out in Miramar. All I have to do is hit the out-of-town highway and?'
'No, please don't. I'd like you to take me downtown. To a place called Zanja Street.'
'Zanja Street? Near Chinatown. That's where the prostitutes are.'
'I know. There's one there I helped some weeks back. Esmeralda. I believe that she'll hide me.'
'Earl, there's plenty of room at my place. You'll be safe there.'
'No, I won't. And neither will you. You think you know about gangsters because of the movies. You think they dress funny and talk funny and wear carnations and funny hats. I've seen some of them movies, too. But let me tell you, they're trash. That's all. Trash. They will bust in and kill me and if you're there they'll kill you and that's that.'
'What about the embassy? That would at least make some sense.'
'I don't trust that fellow Roger.'
'Well, Roger's gone. Unceremoniously. He was dumped mysteriously in the night. The younger man, Walter,
