Like A Hole In The Head

     'I'm sorry, soldier,' Raimondo said quietly.

     I turned in the chair. He was standing with his back against one of the verandah's uprights. His dark, sweating face looked troubled. His eyes shifted as they met mine.

     'Do you go along with this?' I asked. 'Do you okay this . . .?' I put my hands on the tissue paper. 'And this?' I let my shirt fall open so that he could see the Red Dragon brand. 'Do you think a man who can do things like this could be the saviour of peasants?'

     He lifted his shoulders.

     'He gets things done, soldier. This is what counts. To get things done, he acts mean from time to time.' He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. 'He has done a lot of good. Ten years ago, his people had to haul water in cans two miles to their homes. He said he would fix that. They didn't believe him. He found out a politician was having it off with his own daughter. Don't ask me how he found out . . . that's his gift . . . to find out the weakness of men. He talked to this politician. You can call it blackmail if you want to, but water pipes were laid on. Not so long ago all the stuff our people grew had to be taken into town by mules. I used to drive some of the mules. Savanto decided we should have trucks. There was another politician.' He shrugged. 'Savanto found out something about him. They talked and ten trucks appeared. This is the way he works.' He spread his hands helplessly. 'If he wants something for his people, he gets it and he doesn't give a goddam how he gets it.'

     'Do these peasants know the kind of man he is?'

     'Some of them guess; some of them could know; most of them are too grateful to ask questions.'

     'And you?' I stared at him.

     Raimundo pushed himself away from the verandah support. 'I'm taking a swim. Do you want to come with me?'

     I shook my head.

     'It'll work out, soldier. Up to now, he has always kept his word.'

'Up to now.'

     He went down the steps, across the sand dunes and towards the sea.

     I put my hand on the packet of tissue paper, then I unwrapped it and released the soft tresses.

     Stroking the long, blonde hair brought me very close to Lucy.

     The idea of how to solve this nightmare came to me. It suddenly dropped into my mind and I wondered why I had been so dumb not to have thought of it before.

     I looked down at the blonde tresses on the table, then at the Red Dragon brand on my chest.

     Savanto had said to me: How many men have you killed in coldblood? Eighty-two? What is one more life to you?

     I would probably have to kill Diaz.

     Life eighty-three.

     I knew for certain now that I would kill Augusto Savanto. Life eightyfour.

     But that would be a pleasure.

* * *

     I was still sitting on the verandah when Raimundo came back from his swim.

     During the half hour I had been alone, my mind had been active.

     Raimundo looked uneasily at me as he came up the steps. His eyes strayed to the switch of hair lying on the table.

     'Why don't you take a swim?' he said, pausing at the head of the steps. 'It's good in there.'

     I shook my head, keeping my expression deadpan. I didn't want him to suspect what was going on in my mind.

     'It's too hot right now. Maybe later,' I said.

     He nodded and went into the house to change out of his trunks.

     I again touched Lucy's hair, then wrapped the switch in the tissue paper and put it in my hip pocket.

     Then somewhere in the house I heard the telephone bell start up. I heard Raimundo thumping down the stairs to answer it.

     I switched my mind back to Augusto Savanto. I wondered how long he would stay at the Imperial Hotel. He would probably leave after Diaz was dead. I pictured him sitting on the balcony on the fourteenth floor of the hotel which faced the sea. At the end of the boulevard was a twentystorey block of apartments still under construction. The syndicate building it had run out of money, and for the time being construction had stopped although it was nearly finished. Lucy and I, spending a day in Paradise City, had visited the building. We had nothing better to do and a sign over the entrance invited inspection. We had been pop-eyed at the rentals they were asking. The penthouse apartment on the 20th floor had been luxuriously furnished and just for the hell of it, we had taken the elevator up on the long ride to look at it. The agent, showing us round, had spotted we had no money, but as he had nothing better to do he had gone along with us. Standing on the terrace of the penthouse, I remembered, I had had a clear view of the Imperial Hotel.

     If I could get up there with the Weston & Lees, I would have no problem in putting a bullet in the middle of Savanto's evil head. This is what I wanted to do and was now determined to do.

     My thoughts were interrupted as Raimundo came flying out on to the verandah.

     I have become used to seeing frightened faces. When you go into battle the times I have you are often surrounded by faces that telegraph fear. I immediately recognised the signs.

     'Timoteo and your wife have bolted!' His voice was unnaturally loud. 'We've got to find them !'