"No problems. I stop at the milliners and make some purchases. Take a cab. Say I am delivering for the store. The cops let me in. I see that the duke gets the letter. Then I leave and you take over from there." "Perfect. Stress the urgency of the arrangements to be sure that he gets the timing right. If not I will be very embarrassed. Let's go." Can you trust crooks, even well-bribed crooks? That was my depressing thought later that morning as zero hour approached. If all went correctly my new allies would be at their positions now, with the final stages of the operation about to begin. I patted my black beard, glued back into position as soon as they had left the hotel room, and looked at the target. The sidewalk cafe was well placed for this job, no further than two hundred meters from the high wall that ringed Castle Penoso. Four steps led up from the pavement to an iron-bound doorway. Two policemen stood at the foot of those steps. I had watched Renata approach and be stopped and questioned by them, then pass through with her bundle. She had emerged without it-which meant the message had been passed. I looked at my watch. Now the moment for the final stage had arrived. I picked up my bag, threw coins on the table, stood, and walked slowly down the street towards the entrance.
The policemen were at the foot of the steps, hands on their guns, looking at the passersby. A extremely well-built young woman slid sinuously by, which drew their attention, as well as low voiced murmurs of approval. Nothing else happened. Where were my troops? Were they late-or not coming? I bent to tie my shoe. I would be noticed if I stayed this close very much longer.
Then, above the normal traffic sounds, I heard the stressed whine of a car's engine, growing louder and louder. I walked slowly on.
I had almost reached the doorway when the screech of brakes sounded. Both policemen looked up as the automobile careened down the road, weaving from side to side-to crash into the curb on the other side of the street. An arm dropped limply from the driver's window.
As the policemen started across the street I bounded up the four steps and pushed hard against the door.
Tliiyac lr~GP~fl
Chapter 17
There's nothing like a whiff of panic to clear the head. As the adrenalin pumped through my veins, all traces of fatigue vanished on the instant. What was wrong? The door should have been open-they had my message. I pushed again with the same lack of result.
When I looked over my shoulder I saw that the policemen had reached the car. But as soon as they got close the limp arm vanished back inside and the vehicle burst into life, surging forward and away. One policeman shook his fist in impotent fury while the other, slightly more intelligent, wrote down the registration number of the vanishing vehicle. Although this exercise was about as practical as the fist waving: the car had been stolen.
Within seconds the police would turn around and see me there. One last push and I would be off. To think of another plan.
I slammed my shoulder hard against the door in angerjust as it opened. Off-balance I plummeted through and heard it slam behind me.
"Welcome to Castle Penoso, Sir Hector," a tremulous voice said, "Welcome." I climbed to my feet and dusted off my knees. The owner of the voice stood just before me. A wraithlike gray man with gray hair and gray skin that neatly matched the color of his clothes. I accepted the tremulous hand and pressed the ancient fingers lightly, bowing at the same time. Trying to remember what you called a duke. Your worship? Your highness? Your dukeness? My mind was empty. I would have to fake it.
"What kindness! How can I thank you? I have faced death this day and have only been saved by your timely actions!" "All I did was open the door. Sir Hector," he said, dismissing this brave action as a mere bagatelle. He biinked rheumy eyes in my direction. "But sit, I pray you, have a drop of 94 brandy. Then tell me everything. I had only a brief note from the marqu6z asking me to admit you. He said you would explain." I did. While schnozzling into the excellent brandy. Of course, I simplified the story in the telling, but the events pretty much followed those that had happened the day before. The duke's eyes widened at my tale, and he trembled and gasped so hard I was worried for him. But he lasted the course and the story so impressed him that he joined me in a brandy.
"Terrible! Terrible! Zapilote must be done away with once and for all. But how is my dear fourth cousin thirteen times removed?" It was my turn to hobble my head, until I finally realized that he must have meant the marquez; I wondered how they kept track of the family connections.
"I don't know. That is where you must help me. If I write the message will you send it on the semaphore?" "Oh dear, instantly of course. I will call my operator." While he tingled his little bell and issued instructions I scratched out a concise query I AM SAFE IN CASTLE PENOSO. WHAT IS CONDITION OF MARQUEZ, JAMES AND BOLIVAR?
SIR HECTOR HARAPO The duke nodded over the slip of paper and handed it to his operator who hurried off: no long stair climbs for the duke. All we could do then was wait. I made free use of the brandy decanter. When the answer finally arrived I tore it from the operator's fingers, then grated my teeth when I saw that it was still in code.
I paced and muttered while the duke clicked his little wheels and nattered cabalistically to himself. When he finally turned around with the decoded message I was there, behind him, leaning over his shoulder, unmindful of any breach of etiquette. Had they made it through to the castle? I could feel the tension draining away as I read.
MARQU~ZZ RESPONDING WELL TO MEDICAL ATTENTION. BOLIVAR AND JAMES UNHARMED. PLEASE ISSUE ORDERS.
I ATW HAHipn All was well! The boys had done their job and brought de Torres home. I had seen the medical setup in the castle so I knew that once the doctors and machines had pounced on him he would be all right. And Angelina had taken over in my absence. I could now afford to relax. And I did. By pouring another brandy.
"Good news indeed," the duke quavered. "What will your next course of action be?" "A careful one. We were lucky to get out alive, walking into the lion's den like that. We won't let that happen again. This campaign must be planned step by step, run like a military operation. Whenever I, and the marquez, appear in public we are going to be guarded like the crown jewels." "Yes, the crown jewels. What a tragedy. I remember it like yesterday, when Zapilote had just taken office." Yesterday? That was a good hundred and seventy-five years ago! The General-President wasn't the only one on geriatric drugs. "He promised a rule of law and like fools we believed him. I'll guard the crown jewels he said. Never been seen since. Must have sold them, I know his type..." He rambled on some more like this and I tuned out. What was the next step? Getting out of Primoroso and back to the safety of the castle would be a good beginning. But how? I could think of nothing, my mind was empty, my limbs fatigued. I was also half-smashed on the brandy, which might have had something to do with my lack of inspiration. But there must be a special law of destiny that looks after stainless steel rats and other miscreants. Because at that very moment, while I and the duke were both muttering to ourselves through the brandy fumes, salvation was on its way. In the form of a timid knock on the door, repeated again when there was no response.
"Eh, what?" the duke said, rousing from his senile alcoholic revery. "Come in, come in." The door to the study trembled open and the butler, old enough to be the duke's father, stumbled through.