‘Is there anyone else in this flat?’
He shook his head. He raised the glass and drank, shivered against the raw spirit and then fetched a big sigh.
‘When did it happen?’ I asked.
I could see him pulling himself together. He wasn’t alone now. He had company. Even sympathy. Perhaps a shoulder to cry on. In trouble, that’s what his kind always needed.
‘When?’ I repeated.
‘About an hour ago . . . that bastard . . .’ he broke off, nodding at Mimo.
I began to take him along gently.
‘Is this where you’ve been hiding up all the time?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where are the others, Dawson and Wilkins?’
He straightened up, stubbed out his cigarette and began to fiddle for another in a crumpled packet.
‘I don’t know. Somewhere out in the country. Mimo knew, but we didn’t. God, this is a mess. What am I to do?’
Good form. He was coming back fast enough to start thinking about himself.
‘We’ll fix that later. What happened here?’
He looked at me. ‘You think you can fix something?’
I held down my anger. Some people! José with his mind only on pesetas. And now Freeman full of pity for himself and wanting an out.
‘Could be,’ I said. ‘But what happened?’
‘It was all so bloody fast. Leon and I were sitting here. We haven’t been out much . . . not together ever. We were waiting for Mimo to come back.’
‘From the Bar Tristan?’
‘No, no—from wherever they are. He’s got a little van, takes supplies out. There’d been some talk of our moving on—’
‘Just you and Pelegrina?’
‘Yes.’ He finished what was left of the gin. I went and sat on the edge of the other armchair. ‘They were fixing us with passports and making all the final credit arrangements for the rest of our money. Then this swine walks in. Grinning, he was. The bastard, grinning. And he let Pelegrina have it without a word, and then he turned on me. I was sitting here. He just stood there and grinned. I couldn’t move and he just grinned and took his time and then he fired. By some damned miracle he missed me. Right by my cheek and that made me jump. I went for him, full length for his legs, and I got the swine. . . . I don’t know what happened then. We were all over the place. . . . I never did get the gun from him but I got my hand on it, over his, and then suddenly it went off and he flopped out . . . like he is now. Hell, what a mess! What a terrible mess!’
I said, ‘You were both fools ever to think they’d let you off the hook on this kind of deal. The only reason they didn’t finish you off at the Villa La Sunata was that it would have caused publicity and that they don’t want. But now they’re really worried and have to move fast. They don’t want you around any longer.’
‘But they paid me some money and let me write to Jane.’
‘Of course they did. That was to keep you sweet, suspecting nothing until they were ready to deal with you. Do you think ten thousand pounds meant anything to them? How often did Mimo go out to that place?’
‘Every other day. Look, what am I going to do? It’s lucky no one heard the rumpus up here. Poor old Leon . . . God . . . But what am I going to do? I haven’t got a passport or any money and I—’
‘Can you walk?’
He looked at me blankly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Find yourself a taxi and go to Ibiza airport. In the bar there you’ll find a big Swede—Olaf. Tell him the score and then do exactly as he says. I’ll be back there later. Is there a woman or anyone who comes in to clean this place?’
‘No.’
‘Then leave the door-key. Go on, get moving, the fresh air will do you good.’
He stood up, took a couple of weak steps as though he had been in bed for a month and then stopped. ‘You really think something can be fixed up for me?’
I was angry then. ‘Look, you started all this. A lot of nasty things have happened. And a lot more could happen. Pelegrina’s dead. You’re breathing and standing. Just be bloody well content with that for the moment.’
He went and I didn’t feel sorry for him, but I knew that if I could I would fix something up for him, but the fixing would depend on Sutcliffe and very much on what happened about Dawson and Wilkins. If Wilkins didn’t come out of this walking, then I wouldn’t be caring a damn about fixing anyone up, least of all Freeman.
I turned Mimo over and went through his clothes. He had nothing on him that helped me . . . just money, cigarettes and a bunch of keys. I went through the three bedrooms. There was nothing there. Nothing anywhere.
I came back into the room and, although it was the wrong time of day, made myself a stiff drink and I sat in Freeman’s chair and did a Rodin thinking act for myself. Mimo had a van outside, obviously one of the two which I had seen parked there. He made a trip every other day out into the country with supplies. Today he had come back with orders to polish off Freeman and Pelegrina and to abandon the flat. He wasn’t going to go on living here with a couple
