'Come on in,' I said and got off the bed.
A Levison hunting knife is special. It has a six-inch blade of the finest steel and is so sharp that if you draw the blade along your arm, you're shaved. It is beautifully balanced and with a finger grip handle covered with a sponge jacket. If your hand is soaking with sweat you can be sure the knife won't turn or slip. I never went into the jungle during my Army days without a Levison knife. It had saved my life a number of times. When the pressure is on, it's a man's best friend.
I checked both knives, then gave the boy a five dollar bill after he had given me the change out of the hundred dollar bill.
'I want two steak sandwiches and beer up in an hour,' I said to him. 'Steak . . . not hash.'
When he had gone, I tossed one of the knives in its leather sheath on to Raimundo's bed.
'Do you know how to use a knife?'
He gave a crooked smile.
'A lot better than you, soldier. I was born with a knife in my hand.'
I asked him the question that had been nagging at my mind ever since I knew Lucy was dead.
'What will they do with the bodies?'
'She'll go into the swamp. He will be flown back to Caracas. The old man will stage a funeral. He likes funerals.'
'Then it's just too bad he can't stage his own funeral,' I said.
We spent the day in the bedroom. We listened to the radio. The midday news said there was no further development about the two people Bill Hartley claimed he had seen shot to death. The police were checking on missing people, but so far they hadn't come up with anyone matching the descriptions of the people Hartley had said had died. The radio announcer, by the tone of his voice, seemed to be hinting that Hartley was yet another nut.
Around 22.00 we checked out of the hotel. The old negro clerk seemed relieved to see us go. He was a wise old man and he probably guessed we were cooking up something bad. I was sure the golf bag with its leather hood hadn't fooled him, but I didn't worry about him. A hotel of this rating wouldn't survive if it had trouble with the police.
Raimundo put the golf bag and the suitcase in the Volkswagen and he got under the wheel.
We had gone over the plan of operation. Raimundo still didn't think we could get away with it, but he was a little more confident.
He drove to the main shopping centre and parked near an all- night self-service store. We were far enough away from the Imperial Hotel not to worry about Savanto's button men. While he waited in the car, I went into the store. I bought a pair of heavy leather gloves. I would need them for my long climb up the steel structure of the crane. I bought a dozen sandwiches and a family-sized bottle of Coke. I bought a small rucksack in which to carry the stuff.
I joined Raimundo and we headed towards the Imperial Hotel. This was the danger zone. The button men would know I had a Volkswagen. Although there were a number of these cars driving around Paradise City, I was sure every red Volkswagen would now be scrutinized. So when we got to the beginning of Paradise Boulevard, the mile and a half long promenade by the sea where the best hotels were, I told Raimundo to park the car.
He found a hole in a row of cars and parked. We looked at each other.
'Give me ten minutes start,' I said, 'then come after me.'
There were a lot of people wandering up and down the boulevard. In that crowd we had a good chance to get lost, but Raimundo had the tricky job. He was carrying the golf bag. You don't walk along a boulevard at 22.00 carrying a bag of golf clubs. He could attract the attention of an inquisitive cop. We had discussed this. Raimundo said it would be all right. If he saw a cop he would go up to him and ask him for a cheap hotel. He would have the suitcase with him. If questioned, he would say he had hitched into town and was on vacation. That would explain the golf bag.
'Don't forget the rucksack,' I said as I got out of the car. 'I could be up there some time. I don't reckon to starve.'
'You look after your end of it, soldier. I'll look after mine.'
I paused, looking at him.
'It's going to work out,' I said.
He shrugged.
'I'm beginning to think it might.'
I set off, moving through the crowds. I moved steadily, not fast, because everyone on the promenade, under the coloured lights, was strolling and enjoying themselves. I kept a look out for anyone who might be a button man.
It took me ten minutes, weaving through the crowds, to get within sight of the Imperial Hotel. I paused, finding a space between a boy and a girl and a girl on her own who were leaning on the rails, watching the guys and dolls in the sea.
I saw lights were on in Savanto's suite. I was too far away to be able to see if he was on the balcony.
The lone girl said softly, 'Do you want some fun?'
I didn't even look at her. I moved on.
It took me another ten minutes to reach the back of the building lot. I was now away from the crowds. If I met anyone it was almost sure to be one of Savanto's men. I had the Levison knife in my hand as I slid into the darkness enveloping the building lot.
I paused for some moments, listening and looking, but there was no one around. I dropped into the long grass and the high weeds. My Army training had taught me to slide over this kind of ground like a snake. After a
