“I will,” said Teresa the quiet one. “I have worked in libraries.”
“Good. Next — can any of you think of anyone who might know where, if anywhere, La Trinitaria used to hold their meetings?”
There was a general shaking of heads.
“We can ask among the others,” Paula said. “There’s still ninety-one of us you haven’t met. Maybe one of them can come up with something. We can also, all of us, go carefully through whatever papers our husbands may have left. I know we all have, but we weren’t looking for anything in particular.”
“Reminiscing,” Teresa said softly. “Looking at pictures and reading through old letters. And Manuel used to have a diary, I remember, but he burned it just before they came for him.”
“There must be other diaries,” a tall, willowy girl said intensely. Nick gazed at her approvingly. This was Isabella, of the flashing green eyes and mane of red-gold hair. “Not all of them had a chance to burn such things as diaries and documents. Somewhere there must be at least a scrap of paper with, say, coded notes on it.”
“Yes, but the police went through everything at the time,” Juanita objected. She had long since stopped her giggling. “They even tore apart our books.”
“I know, but something may have been overlooked. It wouldn’t be an obvious document — even Manuel’s diary was probably in code.”
“It’s worth a try,” said Paula. “Isabella, you take charge of that angle. Get onto every Resistance widow in the city and have them go through every single thing their husbands left. That wasn’t taken from them, that is. Pick half a dozen of them to help you spread the word and guide the search. It shouldn’t be hard; most of them have been screaming for something to do.” She looked at Nick and gave him a faint smile. “We’re talking about the Associate Terrible Ones, the not so very active members who still have homes and something left of their families. They’re quite good at gathering information— and spreading rumors, if you want them to.”
“I do,” said Nick. “I want them to keep their eyes peeled for any sign of Cuban or Chinese activity and report back to you at once. And I want them, in the subtlest way possible, to fill the city with rumors about separate camps of Cubans and Chinese skulking in the hills. And then, if they can possibly manage it without calling attention to themselves, I’d like some of them to plant the idea that the Cubans intend to sell out the Chinese, and others that the Chinese are using the Cubans as scapegoats. It won’t be easy, but it can be done. But it must be done in such a way that they don’t get hordes of Chinese and Cubans down on their own necks. You might try—”
“I might try putting Lucia in charge,” said Paula. “I can guarantee she’ll get results.”
Lucia smiled grimly. “And no repercussions either. It is easier than you think, Senor, to get women to spread the wildest rumors and then emerge all lily-white with innocence themselves.”
Nick grinned. “I’ll bet you’re the one who can do it, too. That leaves my share in this. While you’re about your business I’ll be looking — looking for a place not far from Santo Domingo that fits all the clues, so far as we can interpret them to date. There may be other clues, and we’ll also have to look for them. Are there any other ex-Trujillo-ites around, people like Padilla, that we can go to work on?”
“Quite a few, very likely,” Paula said wryly, “but they tend to be shy about their past. Known Trujillo supporters dived for cover when he died, and most of the others are very secretive about their politics. Nobody wants to admit having had anything to do with him. It’s only occasionally, when there’s a right-wing coup or maybe a party where too much liquor’s flowing, that one of them slips up and shows himself. We’ve had great difficulty in tracking any of them down.”
“Well, let’s go ahead with what we have,” said Nick. “And if we find we’re stymied we can dream up another piece of gossip for the rumor circuit — a reward for information or a share in the loot, or something of the sort. But in the meantime we’ve got enough to work on. One last thing, and we’ll get started.” He slid a roll of paper from the cardboard tube and spread it flat upon the table. It was a map of Haiti and the Dominican Republic, the one he had found in the upstairs room of the Chinese Dragon.
“Weill AH this talk, and all the time he has a treasure map,” Lucia said, giving it her penetrating stare.
“That’s not what it is,” said Nick, smoothing it out. “It’s probably even more important. I’d say it’s the blueprint for Operation Blast. Take a look and tell me what you think.”
Eight well-formed bodies crowded around him, and eight attractive faces gazed down at the map. The perfume they had dabbed behind their ears especially for Nick’s benefit enveloped him in a soft cloud of sweet femininity. Delectable! he thought, and inhaled luxuriantly. He felt like a sultan in his harem. Except that a sultan wouldn’t have been putting business before pleasure.
“But so many markings!” Paula said, surprised. “I thought that Blast would be something to do with a bomb project, perhaps a missile site. But why should there be so many? Look, six around Haiti and Santo Domingo. And one on Cuba. Even one on Puerto Rico. Are you sure this is for Operation Blast?”
Nick nodded. “I have the advantage of you. There was a letter from Fidel himself to our pal Tsing-fu. It didn’t give away nearly as much as I could have wished, but it did whine about the need for capital and it did mention the eight initial installations to be provided for Operation Blast. And it said that his base, the one in Cuba near Guantanamo here—” his finger jabbed the map, “—is ready. It didn’t say for what, but look where it is in relation to the others.” They looked as he traced his finger around the island coasts.
“See? It’s right opposite a corresponding base on Haiti. Between the two of them they would control the Windward Passage, not to mention the help they’d get from the other two down here. And look at the one on the easternmost point of Santo Domingo. Between that and its counterpart on Puerto Rico, the Mona Passage could be completely closed to U.S. ships. Even without the one on Puerto Rico they could manage, with the help of these back-up bases to the north and south.”
“But they can’t build bases on our soil!” Isabella said hotly, and her mane of red hair flicked against Nick’s face.
“Not yet, they can’t,” said Nick. “But they can when they take over, as I’m quite sure they mean to do. Haiti’s ripe for the picking; Domingo’s not so far behind. I think the base on Puerto Rico is a pipe dream, but even a Red can dream.”
“I don’t understand,” Luz said bluntly. “You mean this has nothing to do with bombs or test explosions or even ICBMS?”
“Ballistic missiles, yes, but short-range. And who needs bombs when you can cut the whole of South America off from the U.S. with a few short-range missiles, land-based planes and coastal batteries? Look, take over these islands, and you’ve got a fortified landbridge right across the Caribbean. U.S. ships couldn’t get through these passages without being blasted out of the water by nothing more sophisticated than shore-fire and a couple of antiquated planes. And that’s Blast. I think. But takeovers don’t just happen — they’re permitted, sometimes even encouraged. That’s one reason you have to get those tongues wagging loud and fast. The more that’s known about what’s going on, the better. And don’t let anyone kid himself that the Commies of either camp are out to help anyone but themselves.” He rolled up the map and plugged it back into the tube. “They’ll liberate you right into hell, and if there’s anything Trujillo forgot to do to torture you, they’ll make up for it.”
“And what does all this have to do with the treasure?” Lucia asked. “It’s not that I’m not suitably appalled by all you say, but why should they be indulging in a treasure hunt—our treasure hunt — when they have such elaborate plans to keep them busy?”