Like A Hole In The Head

     By the time I had shaved, I was feeling pretty good. The sleep had relaxed me. I put on cotton slacks and a shirt. The brand looked ugly, but it wasn't inflamed. When I began to button the shirt, the touch of the cotton made me wince so I left the shirt open. I went out on to the verandah.

     Raimundo was sitting there, cigarette dangling between his lips. I

joined him, sitting in a chair close to his.

"Where's Carlo?" I asked.

     "I've given him something to do. Forget him. How do you feel?" He looked at the brand, then at me.

     "Okay."

     "Sure?"

     "I'm all right," I said impatiently.

     "So is your wife, soldier."

     It was now my turn to stare at him.

     "That's easy to say."

     "We ran out of whisky. I went over to the other place this morning for a refill. I saw her. She's okay."

     It was hard to believe he was lying.

     "She's okay," he repeated. "Timoteo is Savanto's heir. He draws a lot of water."

     "What has that to do with my wife?"

     He ran his fingers through his heavy black hair.

     "Timoteo is looking after her. You don't have to worry."

     I remembered a conversation I had had with Lucy. It seemed a long time ago but the echoes of our voices came clearly to me:

     You mean he's fallen for you. Is that it?

     I suppose so. You don't mind, do you?

So long as you haven't fallen for him.

A surge of uneasiness ran through me.

     "This is the day," Raimundo went on. "It's up to you now. By tonight, you could be a rich man, soldier. You . . ." He broke off as we saw Carlo coming across the sand.

     Raimundo got to his feet.

     "Sure you're feeling okay?"

     "Yes."

     "It won't be long now . . . we'd better eat."

     He joined Carlo and they went into the house.

     I sat still, feeling the heat of the sun as it was reflected off the white sand while I stared across the dunes to the sea.

     I thought of Timoteo.

     Lucy had said : We think alike.

     She had also said : Since this happened, you've become someone I don't know.

     Raimundo came out on to the verandah. He put a plate of sandwiches on the table.

     "Something on your mind, soldier?" he asked as he sat down.

     "Do you have to ask stupid questions?"

     After a long pause, he said uneasily, "You'd better eat. It could be a long afternoon. Like some beer?"

     "Why not?"

     He got up and went back into the house. By the time he had returned with two glasses of beer, I had forced Timoteo out of my mind.

     We drank and ate in silence. When we had finished, I got to my feet.

     "I'll fix the rifle."

     "Anything I can do?"

     "No."

     I cleaned and loaded the rifle, then clipped on the telescopic sight and screwed on the silencer. As I completed the operation, Raimundo came to the doorway.

     "All okay, soldier?"

     I suddenly realised he was much more jittery than I was. I was jittery enough but I could see he was really steamed up.

     "Sure." I moved round him, carrying the rifle and went up the stairs and up the ladder to the roof. I put the rifle by the concrete parapet in the shade. I looked across the empty bay. Would Diaz show? The chances were that he would, but he might not. If he didn't, Savanto would imagine I had warned him. He had said : I will avenge myself on your wife.

     Raimundo came up on the roof.

     "Any problems?" he asked.

     I had had about all I was going to take from him.

     "For God's sake, can't you leave me alone?" I snarled at him. "You're driving me crazy !"

     "I'm driving myself crazy, soldier. I'm as responsible as you."

     "Have you only just found that out?"

     I walked across the roof and looked up at the big tree with its leafy, overhanging branches. I got up on the parapet, caught hold of one of the branches and swung myself up. It was an easy climb. I had only to step from one branch to the next until I was high enough to be out of sight. But I had to be sure.

     I sat astride one of the branches, my back resting against the trunk and looked down. The dense foliage hid the roof, but not the bay.

     "Can you see me?" I shouted down.

     I heard Raimundo walk across the roof. There was a long pause, then he said, "I don't see a damn thing except leaves. Move a little."

     I swung my legs.

     "I can hear you, but I can't see you."

     I came down slowly and cautiously : no branches swayed, no leaves rustled. When I joined Timoteo on the roof, Savanto's witness must have no suspicion that Timoteo wasn't alone.

     I dropped lightly to the roof by Raimundo's side.

     "You're certain you couldn't see me?"

     "I didn't even hear you as you came down."

     I looked at my strap watch. In another ten minutes Timoteo would be here. I moved to the parapet to stare across the bay. Raimundo joined me.

     "You said you saw my wife. What was she doing?" I asked, not looking at him.

     He hesitated.

     "Doing?" I could see my question had fazed him. "She was talking to Timoteo." He rubbed the back of his neck. "He's a great talker. When anyone will listen to him, he talks all the time."

We think alike.

"She didn't look . . . unhappy?"