Passage by Night - Jack Higgins [29]
At that moment, Bayo appeared from the rear, a clean white cloth over one arm and carrying a tray on which stood the bottle of wine and five glasses.
He put down the tray and lifted the bottle. 'Nectar of the gods. See how the moisture has frozen on the outside.'
'Perfect, my dear Bayo. Perfect. You must have known I was coming.'
The man spoke excellent English and completely filled the doorway. His face was shaded by a Panama hat and a soiled white linen suit draped loosely from the immense shoulders, only half-concealing the grotesque figure.
He carried a malacca cane in one hand and as he moved into the room, the look of complete terror appeared on Bayo's face and the bottle slipped between nerveless fingers. Manning caught it neatly and placed it on the table.
'My thanks, senor,' the fat man said. 'A pity to waste good wine. But there are only five glasses here, Bayo.'
As Bayo moved away quickly, Rafael jumped up, his face quite pale. 'A chair, colonel.'
'Thank you, my friend.'
He flopped down with a groan. 'The English have a saying. Only mad dogs and themselves go out in the midday sun. It would appear to me that there is much truth in this. Would you agree?'
'The perfect remedy.' Manning poured some wine into one of the glasses and pushed it across.
'My thanks, senor, but it would hardly be good manners for me to drink alone. Rafael, introduce me to your friends.'
'But of course, Colonel Rojas.'
So this was Rojas? Rafael babbled the introductions and Manning schooled his face to steadiness and poured wine into the glasses as Bayo returned.
Sweat stained the colonel's jacket in great patches and trickled along the folds of his fat face. He produced a red silk handkerchief, mopped the worst of it away and removed his panama. His head was quite bald and what little hair remained had been razored clean. But it was the eyes that were his most compelling feature, constantly in motion, cold and hard and utterly without mercy.
'Poor Bayo. I startled you, eh? I made you jump?' A muscle twitched in Bayo's face and Rojas laughed harshly, his body shaking like a jelly. 'He hasn't been the same since his little accident last summer.'
Anna leaned forward, anger sparkling in her eyes and Manning put a hand on her arm and reached for the bottle. 'More wine, colonel?'
Rojas raised the glass to his lips and sighed with pleasure. 'Exquisite! Such a delightful bouquet!' He put the glass down and produced a long Havana cigar from his breast pocket. 'I hear you've brought tuna with you, captain.'
Papa Melos nodded. 'That was the purpose of the trip. Boats from Harmon Springs called frequently, but that was before the crisis. I thought I'd see if we were still welcome.'
Rojas turned to him in what appeared to be quite genuine amazement. 'But our quarrel is not with your people, my friend. It is with the Americans and those who would help them.'
There was a slight, awkward silence and Manning said calmly, 'Well, that's certainly nice to know.'
Rojas put a match to his cigar and puffed out a cloud of blue smoke. 'So, the tuna were your only reason for calling here?'
The old man moistened dry lips. 'But of course,' he said, a ghastly smile on his face.
'Strange,' Rojas said calmly. 'I thought that perhaps Senor Manning here had intended taking a few photographs.'
As a dry sob erupted from the old man's throat, Manning's hand slid inside his shirt, reaching for the butt of the automatic.
Rojas shook his head. 'I don't think that would be very wise.'
Something hard and cold nudged Manning in the side of the head and he turned and stared into the business end of a submachine gun. The man who held it looked extremely competent. He wore a neat khaki uniform, a black beret and beard to match.
Manning put his hands on the table and the soldier reached inside his shirt and removed the automatic. Rojas poured himself another glass of wine and sipped it in leisurely fashion.
'You know, this is really quite excellent. The best year since the war. Bayo puts some on ice for me each day.'
'I shouldn't