The Last Place God Made - Jack Higgins [75]
'Fifteen or sixteen hours. He's trying to kill himself, I think. His own judge and jury.'
'And why should he do that?'
'You know as well as I do, damn you.'
'Well, thanks for speaking up for me,' I said. 'You were a real friend in need.'
He said instantly, 'I didn't know till the night before last when he started raving. Didn't know for sure, anyway. Even then, what proof did I have? You were pretty mad when you left here, remember? Capable of most things.'
Hannah had simply stood there inside the door during this conversation staring stupidly at me as if not comprehending. And then some sort of light seemed to dawn.
'Well, I'll be damned,' he said. 'The boy wonder. And how was Devil's Island?'
I moved in close, the barrel of the 10-gauge coming up. Mannie cried out in alarm, a woman screamed, Figueiredo's wife standing with her husband behind the bar. Hannah laughed foolishly, took a swipe at me and almost lost his balance, would have done if he hadn't fallen against me, knocking the barrel of the shotgun to one side.
He had a stink on him like an open grave, a kind of general corruption that was more total in its effect than any mere physical decay. I was seeing a human being disintegrate before my eyes.
I lowered my gun and pushed him away gently. 'Why don't you sit down, Sam?'
He staggered back and flung his arms wide. 'Well, if that don't beat all? Would you listen to the boy wonder turning the other cheek.'
He blundered along the counter sending glasses flying. 'But I fixed you, wonder boy. I really fixed you good.'
Figueiredo glanced at me, frowning. I said, 'Nobody fixed me, Sam, I just got caught, that's all.'
The remark didn't seem to get through to him and in any event, was unnecessary for he condemned himself out of his own mouth with no prompting from me.
He reached across the counter, grabbing Figueiredo by the front of his jacket. 'Heh, listen to this. This is good. Wonder boy, here, was running out on me, see? Leaving me in the lurch so I fixed him good. He thought he was taking his last mail run, but I slipped him a little extra something that sent him straight to Machados. Don't you find that funny?'
'Very funny, senhor,' Figueiredo said, gently disengaging himself.
Hannah slid along the bar, laughing helplessly, glasses cascading to the floor. When he reached the other end he simply fell on his face and lay still.
Figueiredo went round the end of the bar. He sighed heavily. 'A bad business this.' He turned and held out his hand to me. 'No one regrets what you have been through more than myself, Senhor Mallory, but by some miracle you are alive and that is all that matters. Naturally, I will make a full report to Manaus as soon as possible. I think you will find the authorities more than anxious to make amends.'
It didn't seem to matter much any more. I dropped to one knee beside Hannah and felt his pulse which was still functioning.
'How is he?' Mannie demanded.
'Not good. He could probably do with a stomach wash. If it was me, I'd give him something to make him vomit then I'd lock him in the steam house and leave him there till he sobered up.'
'Which was exactly what we were trying to do when he attacked us,' Figueiredo said. 'You have come at an opportune moment, my friend.'
'How's that?'
He went behind the bar, found a bottle of his best whisky, White Horse, no less and poured me one. 'The day after your unfortunate arrest, Sister Maria Teresa came to see me with as hair-brained a scheme as I have ever known. It seems this Huna girl, Christina, who Senhorita Martin purchased from Avila, had persuaded the good Sister that if she was returned to her people she could obtain news of Senhorita Martin's sister and her friend, perhaps even arrange for their return.'
For a moment, I seemed to see again the Huna girl standing on the veranda of the house looking across at me, the flat, empty face, dark animal eyes giving nothing away.
'Good God, you surely didn't let her fall for that?'
'What could I do, senhor?' He spread his hands. 'I tried to argue with