"You know what I mean, with the fucking Guardia Civil. Why did they have to be there?"
"Tavalera was acting as Barban's second."
"With a squad outside?"
"He said they were waiting to report to him about the ship that brought, the horses, and came in when they heard the shot. Tavalera took the pistol from Barban's hand, a Smith amp; Wesson. 32, the one with the very short barrel, and also disarmed the American, taking his revolver in the name of the law."
"The. 44 Russian you mentioned. I have a matched pair," Palenzuela said, "made in Spain by Obea Brothers and presented to me by the Butcher himself, Weyler." Palenzuela paused. "I don't remember the occasion."
"Perhaps one of your anniversaries in office."
"Yes, I suppose."
Rudi Calvo saw his boss as a member of the establishment who took advantage of his position and would be crazy if he didn't. Still, in his years here he had come to sound more Cuban than what he actually was, of the Spanish-born elite, a peninsula re Rudi was sure that if his boss was careful and continued to appear harmless, he could become a member of whatever establishment caae after the present one. Naturally Andres was nervous-the Spanish still in power but hanging on by their fingernails.
"We don't want it to be complicated," Rudi said, "but it serves the purpose of the Guardia to confuse us. I identified myself to Lionel Tavalera and requested that he give me both weapons. I explained they would be introduced at a judicial hearing to determine exactly what happened here. Tavalera said, "You saw this man shoot and kill Lieutenant Barban. That's what happened." He said, "Concern yourself with city ordinances and the inspection of buildings, what you're paid to do; this is a military matter."
His chief frowned, not wanting to hear this Guardia opinion of his office, but he didn't comment on it. No, what he said was, "Don't tell me the American turns out to be a spy."
"The Guardia wants to believe he is, either a spy or he's giving aid to the enemy. So both the Americans will be held while the Guardia hopes to find evidence to bring them before a military tribunal."
"What kind of evidence?"
"Contraband, arms. They believe they'll find guns aboard the ship that brought the horses; but when they went to search it, the ship had already left. So now they go to Matanzas and hope to board the ship there."
"Because they didn't pay the tax on all the livestock,"
Palenzuela said. "Remember, you asked why was it the business of the Guardia? All right, now we know."
"What?" Rudi said. "The custom man accepted a bribe to believe there were ten horses instead of thirty. In fact, Tavalera said it was what made him suspicious. Why ship horses if you can't make a profit on them? But that doesn't mean the ship was carrying contraband."
"They'll find out. They'll question the custom man, see what he knows about it."
"And the man is never seen again," Rudi said. "Locked in a Morro dungeon and forgotten."
His chief shrugged. "He shouldn't have taken the bribe. But listen, the part I don't understand-if they believe the Americans are delivering contraband, why wait until the one shoots the hussar officer before they arrest him?"
Rudi said, "Well," taking his time, "if the duel took place and Barban killed the American, they wouldn't have to bother dealing with him. Or perhaps Tavalera has his own reason, something personal between him and the American we don't know about."
"Do we care?" Palenzuela said, looking at Rudi, who didn't answer. "Where will they put them," the chief said now, "theqVlorro or La Cabafia, one or the other, uh?"
"The Morro for political prisoners," Rudi said. "It's full of people no one has heard frommsome since the time of the Ten Years War or even before that. How old is the Morro, three, four hundred years old?"
Palenzuela said it again, "Do we care what happens to the two Americans?"
This time Rudi said, "They may be friends of Mr. Boudreaux." "Ask your source, Fuentes," Palenzuela said.
He looked up as a woman's voice said, "Andres?" but waited until she called his name again before he said, "Yes?" "Are you coming to bed?" "In a moment."
The woman's voice said, "You were going to bring me a glass of sherry." It was his mistress, Lorraine. She said, "I'm waiting."
Now the chief of police waited, but that was all she said. He saw his expert investigator, a man he trusted, looking at him.
"What's the matter?"
Rudi shook his head. "Nothing."
"They become like wives," Palenzuela said. "In time it's hard to tell the difference. You don't know what I mean, do you?"
"I know one was enough for me," Rudi said. Palenzuela smiled, looking very tired. "Keep your life simple." "I try to."
"Do you know where I am this evening? Cfirdenas, attending a political function. I tell my wife I'll be back on the morning train and she says, "Oh, you're going to function tonight." She knows. She says, "You must function somewhere, because you don't function at home."
Rudi wasn't sure if he should smile, so he didn't give it much. His chief smiled, appearing more tired now than he did before, yawning.
Looking at Rudi again he said, "Do you think of us as friends?"
"Not on a social level," Rudi said, "but yes, I think of you as a friend."
"Do you ever talk about me to others? I mean in regard to my personal life?"
"No, of course not."
"That was a foolish question. What else are you going to say."
"No, your personal life," Rudi said, "that's what it is. I can swear I never speak of you except with respect."
"Thank you. And I don't talk about you or your private activities," Palenzuela said, and held Rudi's gaze for several moments, Rudi making himself look back at his chief with the same serious intent, all the while trying quickly to think of something to say.
When it came to him he said, "All the correspondents in the hotel bar this evening will write about what happened. If they don't pass the story through the military censor in the morning, send it over the wire, it will go by boat to Key West and in a few days everyone in America will read about their two countrymen being held in a dungeon in the Morro."
"Unless the Guardia find contraband aboard the ship and they shoot the Americans right away," Palenzuela said. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to bed. It's been a long day."
EIGHT
"You are now entering the presidio, the prison gallery of the famous Castillo de los Tres Reyes del Morro, completed in 1610 to protect the city from hostile forces, marauders, invaders… The lamps along the wall burn coal oil. The soldiers asleep on the floor? They arrived today from a penal settlement in Africa-where you two could be going, if you aren't taken out and shot one morning at sunrise. You see, what I'm thinking," the lieutenant-who gave his name as Molina-said in English, slurring his words a little, but with only the trace of an accent, "is to remain here after the war and give tours of the Morro. There will be a war, of course, soon, and America will win. Our ships are rusting, fouled, our army can't subdue even these peasants. The Morro will become a place for American tourists to visit and I can tell them in the proper English I learned in your country what notables were here, like a guest list, and show them the wall where thousands of prisoners were lined up and shot."
Tyler and Charlie Burke, following Lieutenant Molina along this corridor that resembled a tunnel cut through stone, looked at one another. The two guards following behind gave them each a shove to keep moving. Tyler believed Lieutenant Molina was drunk.
He was saying now, "By the way, what did you do to be brought here?"
"Nothing I know of," Tyler said. "That's everyone's answer." Tyler said, "What did you do?"
And the lieutenant looked over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. "Oh, so you don't think this is a reward, uh, to serve here? I was on the staff of our legation in Washington, where I made many friends, aide to the military attach when I quite literally fucked myself out of a job. Perhaps I also drank too much of your bourbon."