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O’Rourke wasn’t there. A sour-voiced lieutenant took my name and promised to investigate. By the time I was through with him, apathy had dulled my anger.

It didn’t really matter, anyway. The city council was supposed to have been having me followed outside the hotel, for my own protection; I only hoped the protection worked. But whoever Dalban was, and whomever else he represented, they were thinking with their muscles. If threats and bribes were their chosen technique, then I wanted nothing to do with them. I was going ahead with my job come hell or high water.

Still, there were times, and this was one of them, when I felt I was a stubborn idiot and wished I wasn’t.

XIV

“Much the sort of thing I’d have expected the Nationals to try,” said Angers thoughtfully. “I’m glad you told Dalban to go to hell, Hakluyt — I always thought you were a pretty square sort of fellow, in spite of our differences.”

In his way, I supposed, he meant that as a compliment. I returned it by taking it as one. I said only, “Is Dalban tied up with the Nationals, then? If they can afford to buy me out, then why haven’t they paid this fine Tezol owes?”

Angers shrugged. “I wouldn’t put it past them to let him go hang. Peasants are two a penny, and the men behind the National Party — the ones you don’t hear about, but who really matter — are said to be pretty unscrupulous.”

“I hope that’s not gospel truth. If it is, I’m in for a thin time. The hotel staff were almost certainly bribed to deny admitting Dalban to my room — but I had hoped to get more action from the police than I did.”

Angers gave vent to a short coughing sound that might have been a cynical laugh. “I’m not surprised myself,” he said. “If there’s any truth in the rumors I’ve heard, Dalban ought long ago to have been run out of the country — would have been unless he had the police in his pocket. You’re muddying some pretty deep waters, Hakluyt.”

“So Dalban informed me.”

His wintry smile put in a brief appearance. “Don’t let it get you down. You’re a valuable piece of property, if I may say so. Despite what Dalban said, he isn’t really in a position to pull anything; he’s precariously balanced already, and the slightest error would bring him tumbling down. He can talk, but his threats are empty ones.” He frowned. “And yet I don’t know that the matter can be left there, because attempted bribery of a government employee is a serious offense.”

I was tempted to say something about the stories of corruption I’d heard since my arrival, but refrained. Angers looked at the wall clock and got to his feet.

“We’d better go down to the court,” he said. “Session begins at ten. I don’t expect you’ll bekept waiting today.”

In the corridors of the court building there was hustle and bustle — or the nearest approach to it that you get under a Latin American sun. Angers excused himself to go and have a word with Lucas, and left me standing alone, looking about me for people I knew. I caught sight of Fats Brown talking to Sigueiras in impassioned Spanish; aside from the color of their skins, the two were oddly alike — fat, untidy, given to loud talking and gesticulation.

“G-good morning, Mr. Hakluyt,” a voice murmured near me. I turned to find Caldwell, the young man from the city health department, together with an aggressive little man with hard eyes behind his horn-rimmed glasses and a shock of ruffled hair. I remembered Señora Cortes had pointed this man out to me at the presidential garden party, but could not recall his name or office.

“Good morning,” I said. “Are you involved in this?”

“Of c-course,” he said with dignity. “My d-department’s proof of nuisance is very important.”

His companion spoke up suddenly. “Forgive Nicky’s bad manners, Señor Hakluyt. Permit me to present myself. My name is Ruiz, Alonzo Ruiz, and it is a pleasure for me to meet you. I am a doctor,” he finished with a sudden lessening of his vehemence.

I remembered and shook his hand… “You’re the — uh — the director of health and hygiene, aren’t you? Glad to meet you. You’re giving evidence, too, I take it.”

“Assuredly, señor! Why, I have statistics to demonstrate that the presence of this slum of Sigueiras’s has raised the typhoid rate in Ciudad de Vados one hundred and twenty per cent in the past ten years—”

An usher walked down the corridor announcing that the court would be in session in five minutes; Angers hastened back as I was starting to look for the anteroom where I had spent yesterday afternoon and wishing that I’d brought a good book.

“It’s all right, Hakluyt,” Angers said breathlessly. “I arranged with Lucas to ask the judge to let witnesses sit in court today — something about special circumstances. He’ll fix it.”

He did. Three minutes after the judge had taken his seat, an usher escorted me into the courtroom. I was given a place near Angers and sat down under the glaring eyes of Fats Brown. Presumably he’d just had a fast one put over on him, and he wasn’t enjoying it.

I looked around the court — this was a room identical to the one where Dominguez had had his ears pinned back the other day — and stiffened as I recognized two of the people in the public seats. Side by side in the front row were Felipe Mendoza — and Maria Posador.

She looked at me expressionlessly, her red lips slightly parted, and at length shook her head once, as though I had failed in some important test. Annoyed, I turned my head away.

But that was interesting, finding those two here. Another case with political implications. It looked as though half the courts in the city were becoming battlegrounds for the rival factions.-

Having recovered from his annoyance, Fats Brown got up with a bored air and asked leave to address the court.

“I should like to make it plain,” he said, “why in my view it makes no difference whether or not witnesses sit in court. Obviously it makes no difference. Failing perjury, nothing can hide the simple fact that the city traffic department, the city council, and that man Angers over there have conspired to deprive my client of his citizen’s rights and many hundreds of people of their homes.”

The bang of the judge’s gavel coincided with Lucas’s fierce, “Objection!”

“Sustained,” said the judge. “Struck from the record. Señor Brown, when appearing before a jury, interjections of that kind serve some purpose. I assure you I’m unimpressed by them.”

“Yes, your honor,” said Brown, unabashed. “It was purely for the benefit of the reporters.”

The judge — he was a distinguished-looking man of about fifty — half-smiled. Plainly he made allowances for Fats; equally plainly, the fact annoyed Andres Lucas. I glanced at what I presumed was the press table and saw five men and a girl exchanging amused whispers.

“So many reporters?” I said under my breath to Angers. He glanced in the direction I indicated and gave a nod.

“Liberdad, Tiempo,a commentator from the radio, and I should think someone from the local papers in Cuatrovientos, Puerto Joaquín, and Astoria Negra.”

“This case must be attracting a lot of attention.”

“Haven’t you seen today’s papers? It is.”

The judge was frowning down at Angers; he sat back with a mutter of apology.

“Continue, Señor Brown,” the judge invited.

Having got his first thrust in, Brown seemed to have calmed down. He had obviously presented most of his case the previous day; he reviewed it now, referring to witnesses who had deposed that they had no alternative accommodation, that in their view Señor Sigueiras was a public benefactor rather than a nuisance, and that they could not have stayed in their villages because their water supply had been diverted to Ciudad de Vados.