A red-and-white ambulance, with its flashers spinning in the sunlight, edged its way into the crowd. Police were beginning to herd people back. She caught a glimpse of a litter with a body on it, covered with a blanket except for the pale face.
Oliveras said, "Is that your husband, Ed Stone? Maybe you should call and see if he is all right."
"He's not my husband, and he's all right," she said. She was trembling again.
He gestured with one hand. "Okay."
She looked at her wrist. It was a little after nine-thirty, and that was Eastern Standard, because she hadn't thought to change it. Sylvia might be up by now, even though it was Saturday. She got the phone out of her bag. It rang four times; then Sylvia's sleepy voice answered.
"Syl, it's Linda. Did I wake you up?"
"No, I was going to get up in three hours anyway. Where are you?"
"In Argentina."
"Right."
"Listen, will you call my office Monday and tell them I'm not going to be in?"
"Let me try the other ear. You really want me to tell them you're in Argentina?"
"I am in Argentina. Wait a minute." She passed the phone to the driver. "Will you tell my friend where we are?"
"Where we are? Of course." He spoke into the phone. "We are on the highway between Buenos Aires and Rosario, about thirty kilometers north of Buenos Aires. Thank you." He handed the phone back.
"Who was that?" Sylvia asked.
"My driver. I'm looking for a hotel."
"Other ear again. You're looking for a hotel on the highway?"
"They're all full, in B.A. Listen, Sylvia, I'll come back if I can, after things settle down, but I can't fly again, and I don't think there are any boats."
"You flew to Buenos Aires? How did you do that?"
"Listen, I'll write you a letter, okay?" She hung up and put the phone back in her bag. Her headache was getting worse. She looked in her bag for aspirins, found them, and washed a couple down with a drink from the thermos.
The phone was buzzing again. She took it out of the bag. "Hello?"
"Linda, dear, where are you? We've been terribly worried.''
"Never mind, Geoffrey."
"Honey, tell me where you are. Are you in Buenos Aires? I'll send a plane for you, or if you don't want that, I'll charter a ship and bring you home."
"No, you won't. "
"Are you thinking of that little demonstration, Linda? You know the reason for that. Is your leg feeling all right, by the way?"
"Yes, it is, no thanks to you. What about the parade in Buenos Aires?"
"You mean the double who was shot? Linda, you know my associates had nothing to do with that. Nobody wanted him dead, then he'd be a martyr. "
"Okay, but who knows what you might want next week? I think I'm better off where I am."
Her mother's voice came on suddenly. "But Linda, where are you?"
She punched off.
Oliveras was phoning again. "Ah!" he said. He turned. "I have a room for you in Mercedes. That's the one in Uruguay. You have your passport?"
"Yes- Oh, no!" She stopped. "I gave it to them at the hotel, and I never thought to get it back. Oh, damn!"
Oliveras was silent.
"Can we get across the border without it?" she asked.
"I don't think so. From Uruguay to here, yes, because everybody is coming this way. But from Argentina to Uruguay, no, because they want to know why you are going the wrong direction."
"Oh, dear. Well, keep trying, will you?"
"Surely."
She looked at the controls of the holo, called up a menu. The holo had full phone capability. She tapped in her number, added caller ID, and then a window.
A queue appeared on the screen:
709 354-1919 Geoffrey Nero
211 854-0718 Sylvia Englander
000 595 Ed Stone
She touched the second number. After a moment Sylvia's face appeared in the tube. "Hello, Linda?"
"Yes. What's up?"
"Linda, Ed's been calling, and so has Geoffrey. I told Ed you're on the highway somewhere. I didn't tell Geoffrey anything. Was that right?"
"Oh, hell, I told Ed I was in a bar. Well, never mind."
"Well, what was I supposed to do? This phone has been driving me crazy, Linda."
"No, it's okay. You were right about Geoffrey. He broke my leg."
"He did what?"
"Broke my leg. Well, he didn't do it, his butler did it. He wanted to prove to Ed that something would happen to me if he didn't do what he wants."
"If who didn't do what who wants? Never mind. Linda, are you taking anything?"
"I had a pill before I got on the plane. I'm drinking batidas now."
"What are batidas?"
"They're made with aguardiente and lime juice, except that these are made with cachaca. They're very, very good."
"Is that right? Linda, I think it would be a good idea if you came home."
"I can't do that. You don't know. You don't know, Syl. It was horrible. Listen, can you pack up my clothes?"
"Pack them up and send them where?"
"I don't know where yet. Maybe Buenos Aires, but don't tell Geoffrey."
"Uh, okay."
"Don't tell Ed either, okay? You can have my cocktail dresses and my high heels. And my purses. And all that junk in the bathroom."
A pause. "Linda, you're really not coming back?"
"I don't think so. Talk to you later, Syl."
CHAPTER 35
They stopped at a roadside stand long enough to buy barbecued beef sandwiches. The proprietor, a morose beer-bellied man, served them without a smile. His wife was roasting the meat, while three children, in graduated sizes, stood and watched. The oil-drum stove was smoking, and flies danced over the counter. They drove down the highway a few hundred yards, parked again, and ate sitting in the car, with the doors open and their feet on the ground. The doors, opening front and rear, sheltered them from the wind. Gulls were coasting white over the river. The sun was pleasantly warm on Lavalle's face.
"And now tell me, what about you?" asked Oliveras. "Do you think you'll go in the Cube, or will you stay here?"
"I'll stay."
"So you don't think it's true about the other planet?" "I don't think anything."
He licked his fingers. "Are you going to finish your sandwich?"
"No. Here, take it."
He ate the rest of the sandwich. "Excuse me a moment," he said. He climbed the rail, went down the slope behind a tree, and urinated rather loudly.
There were no vacancies in Rosario, but they passed a clothing store, and Lavalle asked him to stop. The store had little stock left, and almost nothing in her size, but she bought at shockingly inflated prices a pair of shoes the same color as the ones she was wearing, in a size big enough to fit over the cast, and some underwear and two shift-dresses in bilious pastel colors; and at a pharmacy down the street she got tampons and another bottle of aspirin.
They drove on. After a while he said, "I have a room in Villa Maria. But that is another two hundred kilometers from here."
"All right, let's go."
It was late afternoon when they found the motel, a little place with a courtyard, a block from the highway. Oliveras carried her bags in. "Thank you very much," she said. "What do I owe you?"
He took a minicam out of his pocket. "Will you pay in australes?"
"Yes."
He looked at the screen. "One hundred and eighty thousand, Senora."
It was about double what she had expected, but she counted out the bills and added a tip. He stuffed the bills into his pocket. "Now I have to go exchange these before the rate falls again."