the flame of the match showed me he had aged and his black, snake's eyes no longer glittered.
'In a few hours, Mr. Benson,' he said, 'your wife and my son will be in Mexico City. From there, they will go somewhere else. I don't know where, but it is necessary for their safety to disappear. You have lost a wife and I have lost a son. I regret what has happened. I regret that you were involved. We have a saying in my country : a man can get struck by a thunderbolt. This means that a man can meet a woman and a thunderbolt hits him. When Timoteo met your wife this happened. It also happened to her. It doesn't often happen, but when it does, my people respect it, and I am forced to respect it too. Please think carefully, Mr. Benson. You are intelligent enough to know that your wife isn't the woman for you. If you can accept this truth then the loss of your wife will be less sad to you than the loss of my son is to me. They are going to be happy together. You and I will be unhappy, but this is the way of life. I came here to explain all this to you. Raimundo, who is very loyal to me, arranged this meeting. I know you want to kill me.' He lifted his heavy shoulders. 'That is understandable. I am an old man and I don't fear death. But, first let me explain. Raimundo has already explained about Diaz Savanto. I now admit I made a grave mistake. I misjudged my son and I now know he hasn't the qualifications to take my place. I must have funds if I am to improve the lot of my people. You know all about that. I couldn't foresee the thunderbolt would strike my son. When he ran away with your wife, the situation became dangerous. I love my son and I couldn't have ordered his death although the traditions of my people demand it. I am necessary to my people. The man who would take my place has no spine.' He dropped the butt of his cigarette on to the terrace and put his foot on it. 'So, something had to be arranged. When one has money and influence as I have, Mr. Benson, it is easy to make arrangements. I had to convince Lopez that my son had been executed. Since my son ran away with a woman, Lopez had also to be convinced she too had died. Hartley, the bird watcher, was easy to bribe. Money buys most things. Lopez heard Hartley's broadcast, but he wasn't entirely convinced. I reckoned on that. I have learned to be thorough. It is the only way to succeed. Lopez was shown the bodies. I have a good man who is an expert mortician. He arranged everything. Your wife and my son were heavily drugged. The mortician arranged realistic-looking head wounds which could be wiped away with a sponge. Lopez was convinced. Now they are safe to go to Mexico City and to go from there somewhere else to begin a new life. I have lost a son. You have lost a wife. I am sorry for both of us.'
I thought of Lucy. I remembered her cry:
'I am sorry about the brand, Mr. Benson,' Savanto went on. 'I was forced to do it. There are spies everywhere who report back to Lopez what I am doing. I had to convince Lopez that I meant business if I was to
My hatred of him was so great that I found I was shaking.
'Okay, old man,' I said, trying to keep my voice steady. 'You have talked me out of killing you. But I am sorry for these peasants you say you are trying to help. A man like you who has such a dangerous mind can never help anyone but himself. But why should I care?' I stood up. 'So my wife and your spineless son have a happy future. That's fine. So you remain the boss of an organisation that will use vice and drugs to better the lives of a quarter of a million peasants. But I think these peasants would rather starve if they knew the filth of your money. You are just another gangster enjoying power. You are just another dirty thug hiding behind a screen of goodwill. Men like you aren't fit to live, and men like you make me want to vomit.'
I started across the terrace towards the crane.
'Mr. Benson . . .'
I paused.
'I understand your anger and your bitterness,' Savanto said. 'I wish to make reparations. Take these bonds. They will compensate you for losing your wife and for the brand. Please take them.'
I saw he was holding out an envelope.
Then I realised how I could really hurt him as I wanted to hurt him.
'Okay, I'll take them,' I said.
I took the envelope from his hand. I checked to see that the envelope contained the two twenty-five thousand dollar bonds.
'Fifty thousand dollars, Mr. Benson . . . it is a large sum of money,' Savanto said. 'You can now begin to make a new life.'
'Why are you giving me this money?' I asked. 'Is it a bribe to keep my mouth shut? So that when you get around to killing your nephew you will know I won't squeal to the police?'
'No, Mr. Benson. I think you deserve compensation. I regret very much what has happened.'
I moved away from him. My hand went into my trousers' pocket and I took out my cigarette lighter. I flicked it alight and held the flame to the envelope.
It gave me immense satisfaction to watch fifty thousand dollars catch fire and become smoking ash which I dropped at my feet.
I heard Savanto catch his breath. He started to his feet, making hissing sound through his teeth.
'How could you do such a thing!' he screamed. His voice was shaking with rage. 'Goddam you! That money could have started a school for my people! It could have fed thousands of them for weeks!'
'Then why didn't you give it to them?' I said. 'You gave it to me. You gave it to me because your stinking, rotten conscience troubles you. If your peasants had the guts they would treat your money as I treat it.'
As I started towards the arm of the crane, I saw a movement out of the darkness. I stopped, my hand dropping on the handle of the knife.
'You can go down by the elevator, soldier,' Raimundo said as he moved out of the shadows. 'It's quicker and easier.'
He came into the moonlight, then he opened the french windows that led into the penthouse apartment.
I turned to Savanto.
'Screw you . . . and screw your peasants,' I said.
Then I walked through the luxuriously furnished room, lit by the moon.
