nervous mannerisms added to the impression of hyperactivity: the way he tapped his fingers incessantly, bloomed his cheeks out as he tasted the cigarette smoke, shifted from one foot to another, talked in sudden bursts. The black hair was combed straight back, shiny with combing, and the face was gaunt, handsome and cruel with the sickle-shaped scar pale on the pale skin of his left cheek. He had a long chin and a strong, straight nose, like a beak. An automatic pistol rode low on his hips in a gunbelt studded with ammunition clips, and Ford had the impression he wore it that way for style, the way another man might wear an ascot.
'Your sleep was good, I hope.' Suarez was grinning at them, still enjoying his bad jokes in English.
With Tomlinson a step behind him, Ford stopped just inside the circle of shade. 'Maybe you think it's funny, Suarez, but I'm not accustomed to sleeping on the ground with a launch of criminals. Listening to them crap their pants all night,
Zacul spoke, talking quickly; a man on power overload needing a vent. He said, 'The colonel wanted to show you how we treat people who endanger our cause. Bad people. People who lie to us or try to trick us—as a warning. But perhaps he could have chosen a better way. Yes, I'm sure he could have chosen a better way.' No introductions, speaking formal classroom English, Zacul gave Suarez a brief look of reproach that Suarez accepted for the fiction it was. They wouldn't have been put in the stockade if Zacul hadn't wanted them there. 'He has told me,' he continued, 'of your business proposition. I am interested. My army and my political organization will soon rule all of Masagua but, for now, we must also be capitalists. We must make money where we can to finance our great cause.' Saying this mechanically as his dark eyes searched Ford's face. 'This man Hollins, he was a friend of yours, correct?'
'I did business with him a couple of times.'
'As did we. I found him a good man, a trustworthy man.' The eyes were still boring in on Ford.
'Maybe we're talking about two different men. The Hollins I knew was a thief and a cheat. He got exactly what was coming to him.'
'You did business with a man you didn't trust?'
'I make it a habit not to trust anyone I do business with. I don't expect them to trust me so why should I trust them? I like things right up front, goods and money on the table. Don't confuse me with Hollins.'
'I confuse you with no one. But Hollins is still in my debt in certain ways, just as it is true we owe him certain things. I wanted to know if you were aware—'
'Any debts between you and Hollins have nothing to do with me. I'd rather not even hear about it. I'm offering you a new deal entirely—and probably a better deal, too. '
'That will be for us to judge, not you.'
'So judge. We will pay you forty percent fair market value for quality stuff, and pay you cash in American dollars. Half up front, half after sales. Because we plan to distribute through auction houses in L.A. and Miami as well as New York, we'll have wider distribution, and that means we'll buy a lot more product and still keep the prices up. We'll assume all risks, absorb any losses. All you have to do is provide the product, a landing strip, and the men to load it onto our plane.'
'You are talking only about artifacts.'
'Why? You have something else to sell?'
From the expression on Suarez's face, they obviously had something else to sell.
Ford said, 'If it's what I think it is, we'd be willing to handle it, but in a small way. We'd job it out, not do the actual transporting ourselves. That's too dangerous. The Coast Guard looks for drugs. Pre-Columbian art is a whole lot safer. '
'You seem very sure of yourself for one so new to this business. Perhaps it is because one of your associates works in
Washington, D.C., that you expect few losses? He is an important man, this man?'
'Let's just say we won't have any trouble from U.S. Customs.'
Zacul's expression was noncommittal, but his gaze shifted as he inhaled deeply on his cigarette. To Tomlinson he said, 'And you, you are an expert on Mayan culture?'
Tomlinson jumped slightly, nervous, but that was okay. It fit the part he was playing. 'I'm an expert on Egyptian culture, an Egyptologist. I'm a new student of Mayan culture. There are similarities that, you know, are real interesting—'
'I brought him to help me identify and appraise pieces,' Ford cut in. 'He's here on a contract basis now, but maybe on a percentage deal later.'
'Because you do not trust me?' Zacul said,,smiling slightly.
Ford allowed himself to smile, too. 'And I don't expect you to trust me.'
'You told Colonel Suarez certain things. Should I trust that those things are true?'
'Like what?'
'He told me of this book you say you have. It is possibly a thing I would like to have for my personal collection. ' Said in an offhand way, Zacul acted as if he didn't much care one way or the other.
Ford said, 'Colonel Suarez gave me the impression it's very valuable. I thought it was worthless until we talked to him,' watching Suarez flinch—and enjoying it.
Zacul said, 'Colonel Suarez knows so little about so few things.' Suarez actually seemed to shrink, slowing as they walked until he was two steps behind.
'How much do you think the book's worth, General?'
Zacul shrugged while his nervous fingers tapped double time. 'In dollars, not much. Not to a collector. But I am a student, and it's a thing I would like to have.'
'Then I'll give it to you as a gift when I return for the first shipment. A present of good faith. It's in Costa Rica now. Safe.'
Zacul liked that. Ford could see it in his face. 'Very generous, but since I'm to have it anyway, why not tell me where it is so I can send a man to bring it? That way I can begin my study of it immediately, and, of course, it would finalize our business agreement.'
Playing along, Ford said, 'I'm going to have to think about that one, General. After the treatment we've received, I mean-—'
Zacul nodded, looking at Suarez, that same expression of reproach, the same act. 'Colonel, these men should have been treated as guests, not as criminals. This man has been beaten. Not by you or your men, I hope?' Speaking in English for their benefit.
Apparently it was a familiar role, and Suarez didn't bother to hide the smirk. 'It seemed a necessary thing at the time, General.'
'That is not the way I wish to run my army. A man must be judged fairly, not in some bar in Utatlan. I am very disappointed. From now on, these men will be treated as my personal guests. And you may consider yourself confined to quarters for the rest of the morning. '
Suarez saluted smartly, then ambled off toward the lake-shore where he began to give orders to soldiers who were unloading boxes from several small boats.
Zacul was already bored with them. His attention wandered; he dropped the fake formality and kept lighting cigarettes. He had more important things to do than play host to two profit whores—Americans at that. That was fine with Ford. It meant he believed their story. That he paid them any attention at all was an indicator of how badly he wanted the book.
They had followed him through the camp to the hillside where men on scaffoldings were digging out the remains of at least one great pyramid, maybe another, though Zacul said it was too soon to tell. He led them up stone steps, like gray dominos, then through a low postern. It was cool inside the temple and smelled of earth and bat guano. There were vines growing out of the walls.
'There have been many earthquakes since the time of the conquistadors,' Zacul told them. 'You can see how this temple has been damaged. But in its historical value, I think this find equals that of Tikal in Guatemala. As
As president? Tours on small carts? Something behind those glassy eyes had lost a hinge, was swinging back
