'You're certain you couldn't see me?'
'I didn't even hear you as you came down.'
I looked at my strap watch. In another ten minutes Timoteo would be here. I moved to the parapet to stare across the bay. Raimundo joined me.
'You said you saw my wife. What was she doing?' I asked, not looking at him.
He hesitated.
'Doing?' I could see my question had fazed him. 'She was talking to Timoteo.' He rubbed the back of his neck. 'He's a great talker. When anyone will listen to him, he talks all the time.'
'She didn't look . . . unhappy?'
'You don't have to worry about her, soldier. She's all right.'
'What's this about Timoteo being Savanto's heir?'
'When the old man dies, Timoteo takes over the Little Brothers.'
'Will he want to?'
Raimundo shrugged.
'That's the way the old man has fixed it. Timoteo could make a good leader. He's no fool. He's educated. It's just his bad luck to get caught in this set-up. This is something he can't handle.'
We both heard the sound of an approaching car. We moved together to the other side of the roof.
The black Cadillac with the chimp-faced driver at the wheel was coming up the road. Timoteo, wearing his big black hat and his sun goggles was sitting at the back of the car. By his side was one of the men I had seen from Nancy's boat : a powerfully built, swarthy man, wearing white ducks.
'Here he is,' Raimundo said and started towards the trap, leading down to the house.
'Send him up,' I said. 'I'll wait here.'
He nodded and slid down the ladder.
I sat on the parapet and waited. After a delay, Timoteo, hiding behind his sun goggles, came up the ladder on to the roof. Following him came the man in the white ducks. I gave him a quick look. I had run into men like him in the Army : dangerous, rebellious, shifty and very sure of himself. He stood away from me, his hands on his hips, a watchful expression on his swarthy face.
At the sight of me, Timoteo came to an abrupt halt. The black goggles were directed towards me. At least, he was looking at me.
Although it hurt, I had buttoned my shirt. I. wasn't ready to show him what his father had done to me.
The sight of him set my blood moving hot through my veins. I wanted to slam my fist into his face. Into my mind came the picture of him and Lucy paddling, side by side, talking.
'Do you want me to explain what is going to happen?' I said.
He just stood there, sweat glistening on his face.
'The idea is,' I said, speaking slowly as if talking to an idiot, 'your cousin will come on skis out there. He . . .'
'Yes, I know.' His voice was unsteady and husky.
'You know? That's fine.' I felt a spurt of vicious rage run through me. Because this thin creep was incapable of shouldering his own responsibilities, I had been blackmailed into cleaning up his mess for him. I walked slowly up to him. 'So you know?' I repeated. 'So you know I am being forced to kill a man because you haven't the guts to do it yourself. You know I am being blackmailed by your ape of a father to kill this man : a murder I will have on my conscience for the rest of my days. You know all that, do you, you goddam, gutless talker?'
The man in the white ducks suddenly came between Timoteo and myself.
'Shut your flapping mouth !' he snarled viciously.
I was now burning with rage. I swung a punch at him that carried all my hate with it. If it had caught him, it would have flattened him, but it
didn't. He was very professional.
Then Raimundo arrived. He slid between me and the man in the white ducks and caught hold of my arms.
'Cool it, soldier !'
I threw off his hands and moved back.
'Set him up,' I said. 'Get him ready to look like a killer.' I moved across so I could see Timoteo who was still standing motionless. 'How do you feel, killer?' I shouted at him. 'Are you proud of yourself? It's easy to talk to my wife, isn't it, killer? I'd like her to be here to watch me kill a man who raped and branded your girl because you haven't the guts to do it yourself ! I'd like her to be here!' I was now yelling at him.
Raimundo moved between us.
Will you cool it, soldier?' he implored.
I got hold of myself.
'Okay.' I drew in a deep breath. 'Take him away. The sight of him makes me want to throw up.'
The man in the white ducks touched Timoteo's arm. Timoteo turned and moving like a zombie, went down the trap and out of sight.
I sat on the parapet in the shade while I got control of myself. Raimundo sat away from me, every now