‘And that really counts, out here?’
‘You bet.’
He took her arm, feeling an almost electric thrill as he did so. He said gruffly, ‘Let’s get together with this lucky Croesus, then. I won’t keep either of you long.’
‘Oh, Esmonde…’ The look she gave him had fresh pain in it. ‘Don’t be so damn stupid. You’re welcome here as long as you like.’
‘And don’t you be stupid,’ he said firmly, ‘or don’t you know anything about men at all?’
It was quite like old times, he thought, as they went up in the lift together. Just the two of them — she’d said she would ring down for Villaroel and he got the idea she was being kind, extending their time alone — and if only it could have stayed that way! But perhaps, with luck, she might yet come back to England and to him, when she got bored with hacienda life… she wasn’t in any way committed to Villaroel. Not yet.
It was Villaroel’s room they went to and the Bolivian’s suite, he found, was majestically impressive, both in its size and amenities and in its wonderful, breathtaking views of the high Andes, the peaks snow-covered and purplish in the darkening distance. The walls of the drawing-room were decorated with mountain scenes painted in pastel colours, as was the high ceiling; but nothing in art could hope to compare with the natural beauty outside. Shaw walked out on to a wide balcony while Debonnair took up a telephone and asked Reception to page Villaroel. When she had done that she went over to a cupboard and poured drinks.
She turned round to find Shaw standing behind her. For a moment she let herself fall back into his arms, and they folded round her. She felt their strength, the hardened muscle… and then she stiffened and tried to free herself, as though she had gone too far and things might get dangerous.
He said, ‘No, not yet, my dearest. One kiss… just one.’
She turned to him and closed her eyes, and her lips parted. His mouth came down hard on hers. It was a long, long kiss but it was different from what it had been and to Esmonde Shaw it had somehow the feeling of a final one, a farewell better expressed this way than in words. He felt like ice as she drew herself away, and he saw tears trembling on her lashes.
‘I’m sorry, Deb dear,’ he murmured.
‘Don’t apologize.’ She turned back to the drinks, not facing him. After a moment she said, ‘Go out on to the balcony again. I’ll bring these in a minute. It’s — oh, I don’t know-sort of shut in, in here. Stifling…’
He went back slowly, his heart pounding and heavy in his breast, and in a minute she followed him with a small tray on which were two whisky-sours.
‘I know you like them,’ she said, smiling softly.
‘I do. Thanks, Deb.’ He lifted the glass, looked into her clear, hazel eyes. ‘Here’s luck,’ he said, and drank. ‘Luck…’ he repeated absently. ‘That’s something none of us can ever do without, isn’t it.’
Villaroel came in shortly after, a tall, olive-skinned man smiling pleasantly at Shaw. He held out his hand, clasped Shaw’s warmly. ‘We have met before, Commander Shaw,’ he said. ‘I am glad to renew the acquaintance, and hope it will now become a friendship.’
‘Same here.’ You couldn’t help liking him, Shaw thought with a pang. You couldn’t help liking him however much you hated and detested him for what he’d done — curious thought! He could well understand Debonnair. Villaroel was tall, dark, and handsome and around thirty — the richest man in Bolivia, and safe physically. Home every night. No threats, no sudden departures and indeterminate absences, no broken dates. How could you possibly beat that combination, in the quest for a husband? But that wasn’t all, of course, and it wouldn’t be fair of him to suggest that it was. No, there was more, much more… he was a decent young man, was Carlos Villaroel; those dark, deep-set eyes looked at you directly and without reserve, with open friendliness and good humour. He was genuine and honest. You couldn’t really blame a girl. Villaroel was every girl’s dream — and Deb was dead lucky. And so was Villaroel. Right, Shaw told himself — let’s leave it at that!
He said with an effort, ‘Sorry to — burst in like this, Senor Villaroel. By the way… we’re not children and you know the score. I want to get one thing quite clear: I’m not here to spy!’ At least, he thought to himself, not on you two.
‘That,’ Villaroel said with a quiet laugh, ‘clears the air, as you would say, Commander Shaw! For myself, I am very happy indeed to see you, and I hope you will be staying in La Paz until we go to my home near Concepción, where my mother is awaiting us.’
Home! Another pang, despite the resolutions. Shaw said, ‘Unfortunately that won’t be possible. I’ll be flying out on the first plane south, soon after midnight.’
‘Oh, I am sorry. Where are you flying to, Commander Shaw?’
‘Chile,’ Shaw told him. ‘You’ll understand, perhaps, if I’m no more precise than that? I’m doubly sorry I can’t be… because I’ve come to ask a favour of you, Senor. I’ve come to ask for help.’ He smiled, jiggled the ice in his glass. ‘It looks as though I’m selling you a pig in a poke, doesn’t it?’
The Bolivian looked puzzled. ‘I do not believe I quite follow, Commander Shaw?’
Shaw glanced at Debonnair. Almost perceptibly she nodded, but there was pain in her eyes. He asked quietly, ‘Do you mind if we go inside?’
‘Of course not,’ she said.
When they were back in the drawing-room Shaw came straight to the point. He said, ‘You’ve done Embassy work, so I feel I can speak relatively freely — in all the circumstances,’ he added meaningly. ‘I’m doing a “hush” job, Senor. Now do you follow?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Villaroel inclined his head fractionally. ‘Yes, I think I follow. Please sit down, Commander Shaw. You will excuse me while I fix myself a drink? And allow me to refill your glass, please.’
‘Thank you.’ Shaw surrendered his glass and dropped into a chair, mopping at his face. Villaroel, the drinks fixed, came back in a moment and took a seat on a sofa with Debonnair beside him. They looked just right together — and very close. This evening was somewhat overfull of reminders of the past. Resolutions would have to take effect from tomorrow.…
Villaroel said courteously, ‘Please tell me how I can be of help to you?’
‘Well,’ Shaw began slowly. ‘It’s like this. I’m going into Chile incognito. I may find it necessary to cross into Argentine territory… I don’t know yet. I may end up anywhere, as far as that goes. But the point is, I’m entirely without contacts — in all the South American countries. You might say South America’s right off my beat.’ As he sipped his drink, Villaroel, the tips of his fingers together, watched him attentively. ‘There are the various British Vice-consuls, of course, but I know nothing of them at first hand, only what I’ve been told by our New York Consulate. Now, as I dare say you’ll agree, Senor Villaroel, Vice-Consuls aren’t always whole-heartedly for the country they represent. It’s just a job to them, a job like any other except that it has a soupcon of honour attached to it, and that doesn’t mean a great deal really these days. Their own country naturally comes first. Now — all this adds up to one thing: I could be left right out on a limb if things go wrong, as they have a habit of doing now and again,’ he added with a gleam in his eye as he caught Debonnair’s glance.
She flushed and said quickly, as if to cover up her momentary confusion, ‘I think Carlos could help indirectly, couldn’t you, Carlos?’ Shaw, still looking at her, had the idea that the moment she’d spoken she had regretted it, but she had committed herself now.