Like A Hole In The Head

     "If it wasn't for this witness of yours, there would scarcely be a problem," I said. "I'll be able to tell you tomorrow for certain if I can nail him while he is skiing. I want first to get a view of the girl through the telescopic sight. I am pretty sure it is an acceptable shot, but I want to be certain. If it is, then Timoteo is to do his act on the flat roof of the house. You and your witness will escort him up there. Then you two leave and you will wait on the verandah with binoculars. I want him up there at

14.30. With luck, Diaz and the girl will show around 15.00. There is a big tree at the hack of the house offering plenty of cover. I'll be up there. When you and your witness leave the roof I'll join Timoteo. I'll do the shooting and get back into the tree. Timoteo joins you. It is up to him to convince your witness what a good shot he has been. What do you think?"

     Savanto considered this for some moments, then he nodded.

     "Yes . . . it is a good plan." He looked sharply at me, his black eyes glittering. "You will kill him?"

"I think so, but I'll tell you tomorrow."

"You had better be sure, Mr. Benson."

The threat was there.

"I'll tell you tomorrow."

I left him.

     Raimundo followed me to the car. We drove hack in silence. The whole thing was comnletely unreal to me. but what was real was the Red Dragon brand on the verandah's upright.

CHAPTER SIX

     I spent the following morning constructing a thatched roof made of palm leaves over part of the flat roof of the house. I had made so many of these anti-sun shelters in Vietnam that it came as second nature to me. Raimundo offered to help. I let him collect the palm leaves, but when it came to the thatching, I did it myself.

     If Timoteo and I had to be up on the roof for some hours at least we would have shelter from the afternoon sun.

     When I had finished, Raimundo regarded the shelter with an approving nod.

     "I can see you've done this before," he said. "Do you want to eat?"

     We went down and ate the sandwiches Carlo had ready.

     I had spent the night in a small back room in the house while Raimundo and Carlo had shared the larger room. I hadn't slept much, but I had done a lot of thinking. I had now got over my panic about Lucy. It was only when I had defeated the sick feeling of fear for her that I began to think constructively. I was sure that Savanto was primitive enough to carry out his threat to brand her if I failed him. I was sure he wasn't bluffing. Diaz was staying at the Willington estate for three days. I was hoping for time. Something might happen that could get both Lucy and me off the hook, given time.

     There was a telephone in the living-room. I considered the possibility of calling the police and telling them what was about to happen. This thought I put quickly out of my mind. I didn't know where Lucy was, and they could fix her before the police could find her. and I also would be in trouble if Raimundo or Carlo woke up and caught me talking on the telephone. It was too great a risk.

     If I had to, I would go through with the killing, but only if I was absolutely sure there was no other way to save Lucy. When Diaz appeared on the first day. I could pretend to miss him. I reasoned that Savanto would accept this if T plugged how tricky the shot was going to be. That would give me another night to think of a way out. Maybe it would be too risky to miss Diaz on the second clay, but at least I would have an extra night.

     After eating the sandwiches, Raimundo and I went back on the roof. I took the rifle with me.

     It was hot up there, but the shade from the shelter I had built made it bearable.

     Soon after 15.00 we heard the motorboat start up. I rested the rifle on the concrete surround of the roof and waited. The boat came into the bay, moving fast. I got the "naked girl in the telescopic sight and adjusted the focus. I got her head in the centre of the cross wires. The sight brought her close to me. In one way I was relieved, in another way, sickened. I saw at once that this would be an acceptable shot. Even though she jinked and banked on her skis, there were long moments when she was steady enough for me to hit her in the head. Maybe Diaz would show off a lot more, but even if he did there would come a time when he would ski in a straight line and that's when I could nail him.

     But I wasn't going to tell this to Raimundo. I followed her through the sight for another five minutes, then when the boat started on its return run, I lowered the rifle.

     "What's the verdict, soldier?"

     "It's going to be one hell of a shot," I told him. "It has to be a head shot. To be sure of killing him and not wounding him it has to be in the head. His head will be moving up and down all the time. I have to hit him in the brain. I'm sure I'll hit him, but I'm not sure I can hit him through the brain at this distance and with him moving. A brain shot like that is one hell of a shot."

     Raimundo put his hand under his shirt and began to scratch his chest. He looked worried.