During my service in Vietnam I had killed eighty-two Vietcong: an average of twenty-seven hostile men a year. Most of them had been snipers like myself : a professional killing a professional. I could have been killed myself, but I had been lucky and that shade better at concealing myself and moving more silently through the jungle than they. I had dreamed of the first few snipers I had killed, but after a while I had become callous. But I knew I would have Diaz on my conscience in spite of knowing he was less than an animal, and in spite of knowing I was forced to kill him. This would be something I would have to live with for the rest of my days. It was essential to me that Lucy should never know. This killing had to be something I wasn’t sharing with anyone… especially Lucy.
I watched the sun go down and darkness settle over the sea. The moon wouldn’t be up for another half hour. This was the long moment of twilight and stars that Lucy and I always liked.
Then the thought that had been nagging at the back of my mind suddenly came alive.
Would Lucy and I be safe after I had killed Diaz?
Savanto had said he was a man of his word. He had said Lucy would be returned to me unharmed. He had said he would pay me two hundred thousand dollars if I would take his son’s place, but he was in the position to make promises. I touched the brand on my chest. A man who could do that, I thought, could do anything. What could be more convenient to him, after I had killed Diaz than to wipe both of us out? By wiping us out he would save himself two hundred thousand dollars and get rid of two witnesses who could testify that his son hadn’t killed Diaz.
Was Lucy already dead?
The thought made me start upright.
Had he had her killed already?
The door opened and the overhead light came on, blinding me. I blinked as I turned my head.
Raimundo came into the room. He shut the door. He was carrying a glass of what looked like whisky and water.
“How does it go, soldier?” he asked, moving close to the bed.
“I’m all right. Why should you care?”
“You must have some sleep. The burn hurting?”
“What do you think?”
He looked down at my chest and grimaced.
“I’ve brought you some sleeping pills.” He set down the glass and a screw of paper on the bedside table. “You must sleep. Tomorrow’s important.”
I thought of Diaz on skis, jinking over the waves. I knew I wouldn’t sleep without pills. If I didn’t sleep and get relaxed, the shot would be impossible.
I stared up at him, remembering how Savanto had looked at him, sure there had been distrust in Savanto’s black, glittering eyes.
“Is she alive?” I asked.
He stiffened.
“What do you mean, soldier?” His voice went down to a whisper.
“Who’s kidding who?” I too lowered my voice. “After I have killed Diaz I have an idea my wife and I will cease to exist. Has he had her killed already?”
“Nothing like that is going to happen.” There was uneasiness in his voice and his eyes shifted from mine.
“That’s what you say.”
“Listen, soldier, Savanto is a big man. He has done much good. He helps people. He is helping his son. When he gives his word, you can depend on it.”
“A man who could do this,” I looked down at the brand, “could do anything.”
“He had to make you see sense, soldier,” Raimundo said. “You were acting like a goon.”
“Is she still alive?” I repeated.
“Do you want to talk to her?” He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his hand. “I’ll take a chance. It’s a hell of a chance, soldier, but if it will make you happy, I’ll try.”
I hesitated. It was enough for me to know he was sure that Lucy was still alive and he was being co-operative. It would be stupid to take a risk.
“No.” I paused, looking up at him. “I’ll tell you something. I don’t think he trusts you any more. I think you could be in as much trouble as I am.”
“That’s crazy talk!” But something I thought looked like fear jumped into his eyes. “Now listen, soldier, you have got to fix Diaz! Make no mistake about it!” Suddenly he stiffened and looked hurriedly over his shoulder, then back to me. “Take these pills.” His voice had become loud and harsh. “You’ve got to sleep.”
The door had opened silently and I saw Carlo standing in the doorway.
I took the pills while Raimundo stood over me. When he was sure I had swallowed them, he turned round and started for the door.
Carlo, his little ape’s eyes shifting, stepped back.
“You want something?” Raimundo demanded aggressively.
Carlo grinned like an idiot.
“I didn’t know where you had got to.”
Raimundo snapped off the light. "You know now." He went out of the room and shut the door.
I lay in the darkness for only a few minutes before the pills hit me.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Are you awake, soldier?”
I opened my eyes. The hot sunlight coming through the half- open shutters made me blink. I lifted my head from the sweat- soaked pillow. Raimundo was standing by the bed, looking down at me.
“I’m awake.”
I made the effort and swung my feet to the floor. I felt dopey. The pills he had given me certainly had carried authority.
“What’s the time?”
“Just on twelve.” He put a cup of steaming black coffee on the bedside table. “How are you feeling?”
Although my chest was still sore, the raging pain had gone.
“I’m all right.”
“Diaz arrived late last night. He should be tired of screwing her by now. With luck, he’ll come out on the bay.”
I had nothing to say. After regarding me, he left the room. I sipped the coffee and smoked. When I had finished the coffee, I stuck my head under the cold shower. I was careful not to let the water get near the burn.
By the time I had shaved, I was feeling pretty good. The sleep had relaxed me. I put on cotton slacks and a shirt. The brand looked ugly, but it wasn’t inflamed. When I began to button the shirt, the touch of the cotton made me wince so I left the shirt open. I went out on to the verandah.
Raimundo was sitting there, cigarette dangling between his lips. I
joined him, sitting in a chair close to his.
“Where’s Carlo?” I asked.
“I’ve given him something to do. Forget him. How do you feel?” He looked at the brand, then at me.
“Okay.”
“Sure?”
“I’m all right,” I said impatiently.
“So is your wife, soldier.”
It was now my turn to stare at him.
“That’s easy to say.”
“We ran out of whisky. I went over to the other place this morning for a refill. I saw her. She’s okay.”
It was hard to believe he was lying.
“She’s okay,” he repeated. “Timoteo is Savanto’s heir. He draws a lot of water.”
“What has that to do with my wife?”
He ran his fingers through his heavy black hair.
“Timoteo is looking after her. You don’t have to worry.”
I remembered a conversation I had had with Lucy. It seemed a long time ago but the echoes of our voices came clearly to me:
You mean he’s fallen for you. Is that it?
I suppose so. You don’t mind, do you?
So long as you haven’t fallen for him.