Passage by Night - Jack Higgins [31]
There was a slight groan from the other side of the room and the beam swung across the wall and came to rest upon a man on a narrow bed. His clothing was soiled and torn and he lay in his own filth, so weak that he could barely move his head.
'The man you were looking for, Senor Manning,' Rojas said simply. 'Juan Garcia.'
Manning looked down at Garcia and felt suddenly sick. Only the eyes moved and the skin was shrivelled and white like that of a corpse. There was dried blood on his face and his mouth was terribly swollen.
'Juan, can you hear me?' Rojas said in Spanish. 'Senor Manning would like to ask you a few questions.'
The mouth opened like a gaping wound, red-raw, already festering, and a moan of animal pain emerged.
Rojas turned to Manning and sighed, 'I'm sorry, Senor Manning. He would appear to have lost his tongue.'
And then he started to laugh, his body shaking, and the sound rebounded between the narrow walls and echoed along the corridor into the darkness. Even the guards look scared and fingered their submachine guns uneasily as Manning stumbled outside. Rojas nodded to the sergeant who locked the cell and they retraced their steps.
When they returned to the guardroom, Lieutenant Motilina was standing by the window drinking coffee and smoking a cigarette. Rojas dropped into a chair on the other side of the table from the door and took off his hat.
'The coffee smells good.' Motilina snapped his fingers and one of the soldiers hurriedly poured coffee into another cup and brought it across.
'The old man and the girl, they are upstairs?'
'In the waiting room outside your office.'
'I'll deal with them shortly,' Rojas said.
'First, I would like a few words with Senor Manning.'
'Any other orders, Colonel?'
Rojas nodded. 'The man in the vaults, Juan Garcia. He has served his purpose. Take him outside and shoot him. Leave two men here with me.'
There was no trace of emotion on Motilina's face. He clicked his heels smartly, saluted and gave the necessary orders. As the door closed, Rojas pointed to the chair in front of him and Manning sat down.
Rojas produced another of his long black cheroots and lit it carefully.
Manning said, 'Before we go any further, let's get one thing straight. The old man and the girl had no idea what I really came here for. I sold them a bill of goods about being a photographer looking for a story for an American magazine and they fell for it.'
'They are still guilty of a serious crime against the state.' Rojas dropped his match into the lieutenant's cup with a faint hiss. 'However, they are not important. You are. There are one or two questions I should like you to answer.'
'You're wasting your time.'
'I don't think so. I am already extremely well informed about you and your associates. But there are things you could tell me. This CIA man, Morrison, who briefed you for your mission. He must have given you useful contacts. People on the island you could go to in case of need?'
'Try Kurt Viner,' Manning said. 'He might be able to help you. I can't.'
'For technical reasons which should be sufficiently obvious, his message was rather brief. I'm relying on you to fill in the gaps.'
Manning shrugged. 'As I said before, you're wasting your time.'
He was suddenly conscious of the black eyes staring at him unwinkingly. They were cold and hard and full of purpose. Rojas raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
Immediately, the two soldiers at the door rushed forward and pinioned Manning's arms behind the chair.
'I think it is perhaps time you realized I mean business,' Rojas said.
He inhaled deeply on his cigar, leaned forward and touched the glowing end to Manning's right cheek. Manning squirmed, trying to turn his face sideways, but the soldiers leaned their weight against the chair, pushing him hard against the table.
He breathed deeply and tried to hang on. Rojas had stopped smiling. His eyes were fixed and staring,