"Why, get her back across the border fast!" Carol snapped. "Isn't it obvious, darling? Get her out of Mexico before there's a lot of dreadful and perfectly justified anti-American publicity. Without her, it's just Mr. Solana's word for what she was doing, and who's going to listen to a crazy story by one Mexican official who maybe hates the United States?" She glanced at Solana.
"I'm sorry, Ramуn, but I just had to do it!"
He smiled gently. "I see that now, seсora. I should have anticipated it."
There was something just a little phony about the exchange. When you came right down to it, there was something phony about the whole performance, but this was not the time to determine who was being clever about what. Carol may have sensed the false note, because she went on quickly: "When we get home, I'm going to find out just exactly what this is all about, and if it's really authorized by responsible people in Washington! I know some men who can find out for me, reporters. It looks like another one of those schemes the CIA is- always being accused of, that I never really believed in before: intriguing and interfering in countries where we've got no business…
I said, "Take it easy, doll. Save the political harangues. Right now we'd better get the hell out of here as you suggest… What do you want?"
Priscilla had moved up beside me. She was looking at me in a kind of expectant way. She held out her – hand. "Why, I'd like my gun back, Matt."
I laughed at her. "You get back over there and keep your nose clean and your hands in plain sight. I don't like to be played for a patsy, Decker. Here or in Mazatlбn or anywhere." I weighed the two extra weapons in my hand, slipped Solana's under my belt, and regarded hers with a frown before stowing it away. It was a reasonably portable firearm, as revolvers go, but you could hardly call it tiny. "You didn't have this stashed away in your falsies," I said. "Where did it come from?"
"I had it hidden under my pillow. Matt-"
"And just why do you need a gun right now?" She shrugged. "Well, if you want to do it-" "Do what?"
She glanced towards Solana. "Don't be silly," she said calmly. "Somebody's got to shoot him, don't they? Unless you know a better way of doing the job."
I heard a gasp from Carol. She started to speak, but I beat her to it. "There's going to be no more shooting here tonight," I said to Priscilla. "I'm getting awfully goddamned tired of you and your white-haired smoothie of a boss and your complicated intrigues. You're going back to the States and we're going to find out exactly what's what and who's who and we're going to do it without murdering a single additional Mexican citizen, male or female, official or unofficial."
Priscilla said coldly, "Since you put it so personally, Matt, I am getting very tired of you, too-of you, and your sanctimonious ways, and your fantastic habit of wrecking carefully laid plans that are none of your damn business. And I warn you, if you don't do exactly as you're told, your hide will be drying on a Washington fence just as soon as my white-haired smoothie of a boss can drop a word in the right ear." She jerked her head in Solana's direction. 'That man must be silenced. He must not be allowed to report what he's learned here. Either you do the job or let me do it, but it's got to be done!"
I said, "Now that you've got all that off your chest, go over to that chair and sit down. And stay sat."
"Matt, I promise you, if you spoil this operation for us
"Yeah, I know. And I'll worry about my hide, later. Sit down!" I waited until she obeyed. "Carol."
"Yes. Matt, you're not going to listen to her-"
"Carol," I said without looking around, "please go to our room, get out my suitcase, and open it. There's a trick compartment..
I told her how to get into the compartment, and what to get out of it. She left, admitting a brief blast of wind and sand. Priscilla was sitting on her assigned chair, glaring at me, looking cheap and sullen and disheveled with her gale-damaged hairdo hanging over her ears in loops and wisps. I remembered the slim, pretty, virginal kid who'd met me at the airport in Mazatlбn, and I couldn't help being reminded, a little, of Vadya, who'd had the same knack of tailoring, not only her costume and makeup, but her whole personality, to the character she was playing.
Well, it was a useful knack for anyone in our line of work, but I'd obviously underestimated Miss Priss from the start. I hadn't thought she was old enough, or experienced enough, to put on so good an act- whichever Priscilla was the act. Perhaps this tough, tarty girl was the real Priscilla, and the big-eyed innocent in Mazatlбn had been the fake..
Solana stood in the middle of the room with his hands up. Despite the awkward position, he looked nice and relaxed, and maybe even a little wryly amused at his own predicament. There were some questions I would have liked to ask him, but not before witnesses-and particularly not before the witness we had-so I didn't ask. We just waited, and presently Carol returned with a small, flat case, which she gave to me after a moment's hesitation.
"Matt, you're not going to… to hurt him?"
I said, "Sure I'm going to hurt him. I'm going to stick a sharp needle into him, brutally, cruelly, without anesthetic, because I'm just a sadist at heart. Shove your sleeve up a bit, Ramуn, and remember, I'm the guy who's keeping you alive. The lady over there wants you dead. So if you jump me, better make it good, because I'll throw her the gun if I can, and if she gets it she'll shoot, you know that."
I loaded the hypo I got from the little drug case. Solana watched me in silence. When I was finished, he asked, "May I inquire what you are planning to give me?"
"About four hours' sleep," I said. "You'll feel a little groggy when you wake up, but it'll wear off fast."
Priscilla stirred. "Matt, so help me, if you don't put him out for good-" I said, "You were running this your way and you ran yourself right into a trap. Now I'm running it my Way. -.. Okay, Ramуn. Whichever arm you prefer to have punctured. Swell. Now come on over to the bed and lie down, like a good boy."
Five minutes later he was sound asleep on the bed. I looked at the two girls, without appreciation. Not that I don't like girls, but this job had been overloaded with them from the start: Vadya, the blonde woman I'd shot, the red-haired girl who'd disappeared with Harsek, and Carol, who might originally have been classed as an innocent bystander, but was now as deeply involved as the rest of us, something I might feel guilty about later, when I had the time.
And, of course, there was the girl of many faces- well, at least two-who called herself Priscilla Decker, whatever her real name might be.
I said, "Okay, Priss. Now whistle up your magic carpet and get us the hell out of here."
She frowned. "I don't know what-"
"Cut it out," I said. "It was arranged for you to come here in Solana's car, without any transportation of your own. It's an isolated Mexican fishing village, sixty miles from nowhere, served by just one desert road that can be blocked anywhere between here and the border. You had some dirty work to do, cleaning up after friend Henderson-maybe I should say cleaning up on friend Henderson-and it could go wrong, as it did. Don't tell me Leonard didn't arrange a back door of some kind for you. Well, now's the time to produce the key to that door."
She said sharply, "If you think I'm going to help you-', I sighed. "Why didn't you say so before I put him out? Now we'll just have to sit here until he wakes up again and carts us off to prison." I glanced at Carol. "Pick a chair and make yourself comfortable. The girl's being stubborn. It looks as if we may be here for a while."
"Damn you!" This was Priscilla. "When we get back, I'll have your scalp if it's the last thing I do! And I don't know if there'll be room for all of us; I don't know how big a plane they've got standing by."