For a long moment I stared at the telephone receiver clenched in my hand, then I slowly replaced it on its cradle. I looked at my watch. The time was 03.15.
I had checked the flight schedules to San Salvador when arranging his previous visit and I remembered there was no flight to get him there by 09.30.
My immediate reaction was to call the A.T.S. night service and turn the job over to them. Then I remembered this was Monday morning, and from now on, I was employed by Vidal. This was a job I had to handle myself.
Before leaving my office at the Spanish Bay hotel, I had taken all my reference books and timetables with me. These were my bibles: without them I would be as helpless as any tourist wanting information.
Vidal had said he wanted to be in San Salvador at 09.30. I had an instinctive feeling against calling him back to tell him there were no flights and would he pay for an air taxi? With his millions, an air taxi fare should be chick feed to him.
I called the Florida Air Taxi service and talked to the night manager, Roger Everet.
‘Sure, no problem, Mr. Burden,’ he told me. ‘Take off 06.45. Your party can pick up the ticket at the airfield. Okay?’
‘Fine. If there is any hitch, I’ll call you back. What’s the cost?’
‘Return?’
‘Maybe not. Quote me single and return.’
‘Nine hundred and eighty-five. Return thirteen hundred.’
‘Make it single unless you hear from me within half an hour.’
‘Okay. May I have the name of your party?’
‘Mr. Henry Vidal, Paradise Largo.’
‘What was that again?’ His voice sharpened.
I repeated what I had said.
‘This is a cash transaction, Mr. Burden? We don’t give credit.’
‘Mr. Vidal will expect a month’s credit. That’s the way he pays.’
‘No cash, no ride, Mr. Burden. I have instructions.’
‘It may not be convenient to find cash this early,’ I said, beginning to sweat. The banks...’
‘Those are my instructions, Mr. Burden. Is it a deal or do you want to cancel?’
‘I’ll call you back.’ I hung up as Rhoda appeared in the doorway.
‘What’s going on?’ she demanded shrilly. ‘For God’s sake, come to bed! I have to work in a few hours.’
‘Go back to bed! Don’t bother me!’ I snarled and dialled Vidal’s number.
‘This is Mr. Vidal’s residence,’ a pompous voice said.
‘Connect me with Mr. Vidal. This is Mr. Burden.’ There was a delay, then Vidal came on the line.
‘Have you fixed it Burden?’ He sounded irritable.
‘There’s no flight to get you to San Salvador at 09.30, Mr. Vidal. I’ve reserved an air taxi for you. Takeoff time 06.45. Please be at the airfield at 06.15. The ticket will be waiting. Do you want the aircraft to wait at San Salvador? If not I’ll book you Pan-Am if you’ll let me know when you will be returning.’
‘I’ll do that myself when I reach San Salvador. I don’t want the taxi to wait.’
‘Right. There’s one little thing, Mr. Vidal. The fare is nine hundred and eighty-five, cash,’ I leaned heavily on the last word.
‘Tell them to put it on my account,’ and he hung up.
Cursing under my breath, I dialled his number again. He must have been near the telephone for he answered himself.
‘What is it now?’ he demanded.
‘Burden here again, Mr. Vidal. You have no account with Florida Air Taxi service. They want cash.’
‘They want... WHAT?’
His bellow made me snatch the receiver from my ear.
‘The manager was emphatic, Mr. Vidal,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry but the ticket has to be paid for before take-off.’
‘No one can treat me like that!’ He sounded as if he were going to break a blood vessel. ‘Now listen to me Burden. I’m employing you because my wife tells me you are efficient. Then be efficient! Tell this sonofabitch I expect a month’s credit or I’ll see he loses his job!’ and he slammed down the receiver.
I sat for some moments breathing heavily, then bracing myself, I called the Air Taxi service.
Everet came on the line.
‘This is Burden,’ I said, my voice trying to drip honey. ‘Mr. Vidal hasn’t that much cash until the banks open. Can’t you stretch this as a favour? He could put a lot of business your way if you play nice.’
‘No cash, no ride. Those are my instructions, Mr. Burden. Sorry.’
‘Mr. Vidal could get tricky, Mr. Everet. He could take this up with your management.’
Everet gave a snorting grunt.
‘Did that phony dwarf threaten to get me the gate, Mr. Burden?’
‘Well, yes. That seemed to be his thinking.’
‘Is that right? Would you please give him a personal message from me? Tell him, with my compliments, to go screw himself. Should I repeat that, Mr. Burden?’
‘No, thank you, Mr. Everet. You’ve made it beautifully clear. No cash, no ride.’
‘That’s it. Do I cancel?’
‘I’ll call you back,’ I said wearily.
I dialled Vidal’s number and waited. As if expecting me, Vidal came on the line.
‘Well? Have you fixed it Burden,’ he barked.
‘I’m sorry Mr. Vidal. Perhaps I had better repeat exactly what Everet said. No cash, no ride, and with his compliments, please tell him to go screw himself.’
Well, there goes my job, I thought. Having had a tiny taste of it, I wasn’t sorry. I would have to find some other way of meeting Val. This way was too much.
‘Was that what he said?’ Vidal’s voice had suddenly gone quiet.
‘His exact words.’
‘Go screw myself?’
‘That is correct.’
To my startled surprise Vidal gave his short, barking laugh.
‘You have more guts than I thought Burden. Always tell me the truth. You are way ahead of these lousy yes-men I have around me. Tell Everet he’ll get cash and I’ll be at the airfield at 06.15,’ and he hung up.
Five
I arrived at the Vidal residence at 08.50. I had had scarcely any sleep and I was feeling tense at the thought of seeing Val again. As soon as I had parked my car, I went to Dyer’s office. As a member of the staff, I didn’t bother to announce myself to the receptioness. I tapped on Dyer’s door and entered.
He was sipping a cup of coffee, a big pile of unopened mail before him.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I heard about last night. Never be surprised at the surprises Tiny will surprise you with. As I told you no hours are sacred to him. Burning to make a start?’
‘Where do I go?’
‘I’ll show you.’ He finished his coffee, got to his feet and moved out of his office. ‘You will be working in the residence. Mrs. V. wouldn’t want to work here. I’ve spent the whole week fixing your office. Consider yourself favoured.’ While he was talking, he led the way along the azalea lined path to the house. ‘Everything fancy, of course. Mrs. V. has luxury tastes.’ We entered the house and he led me through a big hall crammed with armour and old weapons and up a wide staircase, along a passage to a door at the far end. Opening it, he stood aside and waved me in. ‘Make yourself at home. The big desk is yours. The desk with the I.B.M. is for Mrs. V. The schedules are on your desk. Go to it, brave heart. I must return to my slum. See you,’ and he withdrew.
I leaned against the door and looked around the big, sunlit room. It was luxurious all right. The big french windows looked on to the swimming pool. My desk was big enough to play billiards on. There were four telephones, an intercom and nearby a Telex machine. A Grundig recorder stood on a small table by the desk. I went around and sat in the executive chair. Opposite me was a slightly smaller desk, equipped with an I.B.M. Executive, two telephones, a Grundig recorder and an array of pencils and ball points. The room was air conditioned. It was certainly the most luxe office I had yet worked in.