What more could anyone want than this lotus-eating life? A plunge in cold surf before breakfast, a ride along the beach on a pure-bred Arab mare before luncheon, another swim and then a long afternoon in the sun reading and sipping a chilled rum drink while faint music came from the stereo in one of the cloisters.
Why had Carlos left all this to get himself into the North American merry-go-round?
Carlos seemed to read her thoughts. “In time you get tired of it,” he said one afternoon.
“Why?”
A shrug. “Not enough conflict.”
“That’s the very thing that appeals to me now.” Tash realized she was getting close to the things they didn’t talk about and veered away quickly. “Cay or cayo in Spanish and quai in French, but key in English. I wonder why?”
“Because in the eighteenth century key was pronounced ‘kay’ in English, just as tea was pronounced ‘tay’ and still is in Ireland. It should be Kay West, not Key West.”
Felipe, who ran the household here as efficiently as the chief usher had run Leafy Way, came across the patio to Tash with a cablegram.
“Oh, dear! My mother and father will be here tonight.”
“Why does that bother you? We have plenty of room.”
“Your mother has been kindness itself, but. . . they’re divorced, you know.”
“I’ve told her all about it. She is looking forward to meeting them, and so am I.”
At the airport, it seemed to Tash that both her parents were wearing their “everything-is-going-to-be-all-right” masks.
“Darling Tash!” Her mother’s mask did not slip, but it quivered, and for the first time Tash began to realize what anguish both her parents must have gone through when news flashed around the world that she had been so close to Jeremy Playfair when he was killed. She could so easily have died with him.
“And this is Mr. de Miranda?” her father was saying. “How very kind of you to have us here. I don’t know if this is good or bad news, but you’ve got another guest coming whom we met on the plane, a Captain Wilkes.”
“Ted!” Carlos called out as he saw Wilkes approaching “I hope you’ve come for a real vacation?”
“Only twenty-four hours,” said Wilkes. “I have to go back tomorrow. And it’s not a vacation. I’ve been fired, or, at least, asked to resign by Governor Jackman.” Tash turned away from the others to hide her face. Governor Jackman. Of course. As lieutenant governor, Job would succeed Jeremy automatically, and his first act in office would be to ask for Wilkes’ resignation. Job would never forgive poor Wilkes for what had happened at Desolation Bend.
“And how is Job?” asked Hilary.
“Bitter. His whole future was geared to promoting Governor Playfair at the national level. Now that’s gone, and he’s floundering hopelessly in the job of governor. After he serves out the rest of Playfair’s term, he’ll probably retire from politics. He’s just not the type who can run for high office on his own and hope to be elected. His only chance lay in being the tail of other candidate’s comet, and now he’s lost that.”
Mariquita de Miranda, white-haired and grave, received the northern strangers with unshakable dignity and introduced Carlos’ younger sisters, Eulalia and Manuela, as imperturbably as if unexpected guests arrived at twelve hours’ notice or less every day of her life. Watching her, Tash realized how much of Carlos’ character had been formed by his mother. The devotion of Spanish sons to their mothers was famous throughout Europe.
Over before-dinner sherry in the patio, the party split up into smaller groups, and Tash found herself with Wilkes and Carlos.
“You can’t blame Jackman for asking me to resign,” said Wilkes to Carlos. “In his place, I’d have done the same thing. After all, I was in charge.”
“What, will happen now?” asked Tash.
“I don’t know, but I’m afraid my successor is going to arrest the wrong man. That’s why I’m here.”
“How can we help?”
“By letting me talk. If we pool information and ideas, we may think of something that will lead us to the real murderer.”
Carlos strolled over to a television set in one corner of the cloister. “Let’s find out what’s happening now.”
“You’re too early, Carlito!” said Eulalia, with a trace of sisterly discipline. “The news doesn’t come on until eight.”
“Which will give us plenty of time to get sound and picture adjusted before it comes on,” said Carlos with a trace of brotherly rebellion.
As a courtesy to his guests, Carlos turned on a broadcast in English, so they all understood the big news of the evening when it came just before dinner.
“We interrupt this program with a news flash from the mainland. A former citizen of Barlovento, known to the police as Halc6n, and wanted for questioning about the assassination of Governor Playfair, has just been shot and killed by police here while resisting arrest. The new Governor, Job Jackman, deplored the fact that Halcón can now never be brought to trial. The police officers who shot him are now under arrest pending investigation. . . .”
“Halcón!” Wilkes’ face was tight as a clenched fist. “That’s the man I was talking about. The wrong man. He never killed the Governor.”
Nothing more was said until Carlos mother and sisters had left the patio. Eulalia and Manuela would have lingered had not their mother’s firm voice indicated her displeasure at the very thought of such a possibility.
Tash’s parents were never slow to take a hint. They pleaded jet fatigue and followed the Miranda women into the shadows of the cloister.
“I admire your mother,” said Tash to Carlos. She has her daughters well in hand.”
“For how long? Next autumn they go to college on the mainland.”
“Of course they must if they are to survive in the kind of world we shall all have to live in. At least they’ll start out with a moral sense.”
Tash smiled. “I’m not
