Like A Hole In The Head

it?'

     I didn't say anything.

     'She is quite well and safely guarded, Mr. Benson,' Savanto went on. 'She is very well guarded.' There was a long pause while he puffed at his cigarette, then he said, 'Tomorrow at 14.00, Timoteo will come here. At 14.30 I and Lopez will arrive. You are entirely responsible for the arrangements and the successful conclusion of the operation.' He stared at me, his black eyes like stones. 'Is that understood?'

     The veil of this nightmare was smothering me.

     'Yes,' I said.

* * *

     The shadows from the palm trees were lengthening. The sun was sinking in a blood-red glow that lit up the horizon. The light turned the sand dunes into lunar formations. It was hot : a tropical evening with no wind and complete silence.

     I was lying on the bed by the window in my small, airless room. In spite of the ointment the burn was still painful. To forget the pain, my mind moved into the past. I thought of my first meeting with Nick Lewis when he had told me the school was for sale. This meeting had started the nightmare. I thought again of my first meeting with Lucy and of our first wonderful month together. I thought of the black Cadillac coming up the drive and of our hopes that here at last was a good paying client. It all seemed a long time ago. I wondered what Lucy was doing at this moment. I was thankful she didn't know what was happening to me. I had told Savanto I would kill Diaz . . . so I would kill him.

     During my service in Vietnam I had killed eighty-two Vietcong: an average of twenty-seven hostile men a year. Most of them had been snipers like myself : a professional killing a professional. I could have been killed myself, but I had been lucky and that shade better at concealing myself and moving more silently through the jungle than they. I had dreamed of the first few snipers I had killed, but after a while I had become callous. But I knew I would have Diaz on my conscience in spite of knowing he was less than an animal, and in spite of knowing I was forced to kill him. This would be something I would have to live with for the rest of my days. It was essential to me that Lucy should never know. This killing had to be something I wasn't sharing with anyone . . . especially Lucy.

     I watched the sun go down and darkness settle over the sea. The moon wouldn't be up for another half hour. This was the long moment of twilight and stars that Lucy and I always liked.

     Then the thought that had been nagging at the back of my mind suddenly came alive.

     Would Lucy and I be safe after I had killed Diaz?

     Savanto had said he was a man of his word. He had said Lucy would be returned to me unharmed. He had said he would pay me two hundred thousand dollars if I would take his son's place, but he was in the position to make promises. I touched the brand on my chest. A man who could do that, I thought, could do anything. What could be more convenient to him, after I had killed Diaz than to wipe both of us out? By wiping us out he would save himself two hundred thousand dollars and get rid of two witnesses who could testify that his son hadn't killed Diaz.

     Was Lucy already dead?

     The thought made me start upright.

     Had he had her killed already?

     The door opened and the overhead light came on, blinding me. I blinked as I turned my head.

     Raimundo came into the room. He shut the door. He was carrying a glass of what looked like whisky and water.

'How does it go, soldier?' he asked, moving close to the bed.

'I'm all right. Why should you care?'

'You must have some sleep. The burn hurting?'

'What do you think?'

He looked down at my chest and grimaced.

     'I've brought you some sleeping pills.' He set down the glass and a screw of paper on the bedside table. 'You must sleep. Tomorrow's important.'

     I thought of Diaz on skis, jinking over the waves. I knew I wouldn't sleep without pills. If I didn't sleep and get relaxed, the shot would be impossible.

     I stared up at him, remembering how Savanto had looked at him, sure there had been distrust in Savanto's black, glittering eyes.

     'Is she alive?' I asked.

     He stiffened.

     'What do you mean, soldier?' His voice went down to a whisper.

     'Who's kidding who?' I too lowered my voice. 'After I have killed Diaz I have an idea my wife and I will cease to exist. Has he had her killed already?'

     'Nothing like that is going to happen.' There was uneasiness in his voice and his eyes shifted from mine.

     'That's what you say.'

     'Listen, soldier, Savanto is a big man. He has done much good. He helps people. He is helping his son. When he gives his word, you can depend on it.'

     'A man who could do this,' I looked down at the brand, 'could do anything.'

     'He had to make you see sense, soldier,' Raimundo said. 'You were acting like a goon.'

     'Is she still alive?' I repeated.

     'Do you want to talk to her?' He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. 'I'll take a chance. It's a hell of a chance, soldier, but if it will make you happy, I'll try.'