The Five Arrows Part 44

"Take me back to the hotel, please. I'm all confused. I want to believe you. Honestly I do. But what am I supposed to do? You give me the choice of matching one line against the other, and all the time I'll be wondering if both lines aren't fakes."

"Listen to me, baby ..."

"Don't 'baby' me. You've got sand on your jacket. No, don't, Hall. Just take me back to the hotel, please."

They walked to the sea wall in silence. Hall made a step for Jerry with his hands, boosted her to the top of the wall. "I'll try to find you a cab," he said. "But before we turn in, I'm telling you again that I'm not government. I'm exactly what I said I am. Believe me, Jerry. Please believe me."

"I don't know what to believe any more."

"But you do believe what I said about Ansaldo, don't you?"

"I don't know," she said, miserably. "Haven't you asked enough questions for one night? Show me your badge and subpoena me or something to the American Emba.s.sy and I'll tell you all I know. Which is nothing. I don't know any more than I've already told you."

Hall was flagging every pa.s.sing car. "They're all private," he muttered.

"We'll never get a cab tonight. And for G.o.d's sake, stop sniffling. Even if I am a G-man I won't bite you."

"You shouldn't have played me for a sucker, Hall."

"I didn't play you for anything."

"Don't say any more, Hall. Please don't."

Her att.i.tude infuriated him. Furiously, he flagged a pa.s.sing car, biting his lips in anger and frustration. He fought against yielding to his anger. "Jerry," he said, "there's one thing I'll have to ask you to do.

I'm asking as a private citizen. But whatever you think I am, you'll have to do this one thing. I must insist that you don't tell Ansaldo anything about our conversation or about my having been in Spain."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes," he roared. "Yes, d.a.m.n you, it's an order!"

One of the cars he had flagged slowed down, pulled over to where he stood with Jerry. But it was not a taxi. It was a small chauffeur-driven town car. The young Marques de Runa sat alone in the back seat.

"Good evening," he smiled. "Can I give you and your young lady a lift?

You'll never be able to get a public car tonight."

"Thanks." Hall took Jerry's elbow, pulled her toward the door. He made the introductions, then climbed in after Jerry and shut the door. "We were just going to the Bolivar," he said.

"Were you trying to escape from the mobs?" the Marques asked.

"No. The lady has a bad cold. We thought the sea air might do it some good."

"You should try the mountain air," the Marques said. "I always take to the mountain air when I have a cold, Senor Hall. Don't you think the mountain air is better?"

Hall let the question go unanswered. He was looking into the mirror over the driver's seat, studying what he could see in the small gla.s.s of the chauffeur's face.

"The mountain air, Senor Hall."

"Oh, yes. Very dry. Perhaps the lady will try the mountain air. What do you think, Jerry?"

"No, thank you," she said, sharply. "I have hallucinations on mountain tops."

The Marques thought this was very funny. But not too unusual, he hastened to add. "For example," he said, "once when I was on a skiing week-end in Austria, three members of our party saw an apparition." He chattered amiably about the experiences on that and other skiing trips, directing his words solely to Jerry. Hall ignored them both. He was still staring at the mirror, and, after catching the chauffeur's eyes for the second time, he knew definitely that the man at the wheel was the little dog who had trailed him to the Ritz and then driven off after Ansaldo's limousine with Androtten as his pa.s.senger.

It was only when the car was less than a block from the Bolivar that Hall spoke again. "It's too bad," he said, his eyes trying to focus both on the mirror and on de Runa, "it's too bad about the Phoenix Garage blowing up today."

The chauffeur and the Marques started.

"But--why?" the Marques asked.

"Oh, I don't know. It's just that an officer in the British Emba.s.sy was telling me just the other day that the Phoenix Garage was one of the most fascinating establishments in San Hermano. I was planning to visit the garage myself tomorrow. I'm interested in garages, you know."

The chauffeur stopped the car in front of the Bolivar with an abrupt slamming of his brakes.

Hall laughed. "Your chauffeur was daydreaming, I think."

The Marques laughed, or tried to laugh, as if Hall had just made one of the funniest remarks ever heard in San Hermano. "That's what he is," the Marques laughed, "a man who dreams by day. Very good, Senor Hall.

Excellent."

Hall got out of the car, helped Jerry to the street. "Thank you again for picking us up," he said. "And do something about your driver before he starts driving into people in his sleep."

The car was in gear and on its way down the street before the Marques could make his answer heard.

"What was so funny about your crack?" Jerry asked.

"I'll tell you tomorrow. Are we still friends?"

"Stop it, Matt. Just leave me alone tonight."

"Sure," he smiled. "Sleep on it. But please to keep the mouth shut, yes?"

"I'm going to my room, Matt."

"May I phone you in the morning?"

Jerry ran into the hotel without answering. Hall stood in the street for a moment, watching the receding crowds in the Plaza. They started to become a blur in his heavy eyes. He entered the lobby. Souza was going over a bill with two guests. Hall nodded to the night clerk, then went into the small bar of the Bolivar to have a drink while Souza got rid of the strangers.

Only one of the four tables in the bar room was occupied. Androtten and a San Hermano coffee dealer sat at this table, three open copper canisters between them. The Hollander was driving a hard bargain for two types of Monte Azul bean.

"Mr. Hall," he smiled, "delighted to see you healthy again. Delighted as h.e.l.l."

"Healthy again?"

"d.a.m.n rumors have been spread about the hotel that you were ill, Mr.

Hall. Not seriously as h.e.l.l, I hope? Why don't you join us? Mr.

Rendueles has been trying to make a deal with me on some fairly choice bean."

Hall downed his double Scotch. "No, thanks. I'd better get some sleep."

"Yes. You look sleepy, Mr. Hall. I wonder if we'll ever find time for--you know--my d.a.m.n story. Eh?"