As he sat in the bar at El Presidente hotel with its lighted waterfall and its big swimming pool, a Cinzano Bitter and ice on the table before him, waiting for Juana, he tried to put the past twelve hours into perspective.
The girl herself was an enigma. She had admitted that as soon as she had seen him as he was checking in at the Hilton she had fallen in love with him. She had made inquiries and had found out who he was and also his room number. According to her, it was the most natural thing in the world for her to change rooms so that when he wanted her, as she knew he would want her, she would be within discreet and easy reach. They had had no time up to now to get to know each other, although she did seem to know much more about him than he did about her. That wasn’t surprising since he was famous and a public figure.
Their lovemaking had been the most explosive, satisfying and exciting experience he had had with any woman. Her sexual technique was at once tender, professional, abandoned and devastating.
Thinking about her now, he realised, not without a pang of fear, that life would be utterly unbearable without her. He had never felt this way about any other woman. Previously, he had always warned himself to be careful and not to get permanently hooked. Now, the thought of setting up house with her, having her constantly with him filled him with a burning excitement that chilled only when he remembered how she had treated Manuel Barreda. But then, he assured himself, Barreda was a man of sixty-five. How could such a sick, old man possibly hope to match her vigorous, demanding passion? Cade was sure, as he remembered the way she had looked at him, had kissed him and had held him, that she was as much in love with him as he was with her: and, he told himself, that kind of love lasted.
Finishing his drink, he went into the restaurant and had a lonely lunch, wondering what she was doing, what the house would be like and missing her. Then he forced himself to think of the bull fight the following afternoon.
Creel had promised to telephone that evening for instructions. He had a car which was at Cade’s disposal. He would be happy to act as Cade’s guide and chauffeur. Cade had explained that he would be using three cameras, and he would want Creel to sit beside him and hand him whichever camera he called for so that he would be sure of continuous shooting with whatever lens he might need. He liked Creel. The fat man was so willing and anxious to please that no one could fail to like him. It had been Creel who had suggested that he should buy a large bunch of carnations for Juana’s room which communicated with Cade’s room. It had been Creel who had hurried out of the hotel, bought the flowers and had instructed the maid where they were to be placed.
After lunch, Cade went up to his room and lay on the bed. He had eaten well and was relaxed. He was also tired after the exertions of the previous night. He slept.
When he woke it was dusk, a little after 19.00 hours. He got up, feeling fine. Stripping off his clothes, he took a shower and as he came from the bathroom, the telephone bell rang.
It was Juana.
He could hear over the open line the sound of men’s voices, a lot of laughter, guitar music and a man singing. His falsetto voice set Cade’s teeth on edge.
“Where are you calling from?” he asked, suspicious and worried.
“From a café,” Juana said. “The noise is driving me mad! Listen, cariño, Diaz will see you tomorrow at half past two. He will be at the Hotel de Toro. Is that all right for you?”
“Yes, of course — wonderful! How did you manage it?”
“Renado is a very good friend of mine. He is the manager of the Toreros. He is very flattered that the great Cade wants to photograph one of his fighters. Now, Diaz is also flattered... the puffed-up frog!”
A very good friend of mine. What exactly did that mean?
“That’s wonderful!” Cade repeated, “but what are you doing in a café, darling? Why aren’t you here with me?”
“Renado is here. I am leaving now, but I won’t be back until ten o’clock.”
“But why not?”
“There is still so much to arrange. I have the house, but now I have to see the agent and pay him some money. It will take a little time because he is a thief and I will have to bargain with him. The house is beautiful. You will love it. It will be ready for us to move in after the fights tomorrow. Let us go tonight to the Restaurant Negrui. It serves fine food. Do you know it?”
Cade said he didn’t.
“Then it will be a small experience for you. Will you book a table? I must go. I have still so much to do. Do you still love me?”
“If you were here I would demonstrate the strength of my love,” Cade said.
She laughed happily.
“I would like that very much. Adios, cariño,” and she hung up.
A little later Creel telephoned. Cade told him about Diaz. The fat man said it was the most remarkable thing he had ever heard.
“You do not know, senor, you cannot imagine how I tried to arrange this interview for you. Diaz is a sonofabitch. It was brilliant of the lady to have thought of Renado. He is very important and also very difficult. She must know him very well to have persuaded him to help you.”
This did not help to reduce Cade’s worry and growing jealousy.
Creel said he would call for Cade at 14.00 hours and would take him to the Hotel de Toro.
A few minutes after 22.00 hours, Juana came rushing into the bedroom where Cade was waiting.
After kissing the whole of his face with gentle nibbles, she lingered on his mouth until his hands began to move over her body. Then, laughing, she pulled away, shaking her head at him.
“Not yet, cariño. I am terribly, terribly hungry, but not for you. I want a big, beautiful steak. Later...”
He was astonished how quickly she showered and changed. By 22.25 hours she was ready to go.
The meal at the Negrui Restaurant was excellent. While they ate, she chattered. Everything was now arranged. The house was perfect. She had paid a week’s rent. They could have it for as long as they liked. Was he pleased about Diaz? This man was stupid: a vain frog, but she had heard he was very good with the bulls. Renado was very enthusiastic. It took a lot to make Renado enthusiastic. He had handled many fine matadors.
Finally, when she paused for breath, Cade said, “Creel tells me Renado is important and difficult. Just how did you manage to persuade him?”
She was cutting into a creamy pastry. She looked at him, then she smiled.
“This is good. You are a little jealous. It is good for a man to be jealous of a woman. It proves he loves her.”
Cade pushed his plate away.
“Never mind the wise talk... please answer my question!”
“You are angry?” her eyes sparkled.
“Not yet, but I could be.”
“I like men who become angry. It shows character. Without character what is a man?”
“Will you please tell me how you persuaded a man like Renado to grant me this favour?” Cade said in a scarcely controlled voice.
“Of course: there is no mystery about it.” She finished her pastry and sat back with a little sigh of content. “My father was Tomas Roca, one of the greatest picadors who ever lived. He was starting his career with the novilleros when Renado was trying to become a manager of toreros. My father hired Renado to look after his affairs. It was because of my father’s rise to fame that Renado has become as rich and as powerful as he is now. So it is natural that he should wish to help me when I ask for help.”
Cade relaxed. He touched her hand.
“What happened to your father?”
“He became too old to be a picador. He now owns a shop in Taxco. He sells silver. There are many shops in Taxco selling silver, but because my father is who he is, he does very well. He is a dull, hard, boring man. He wanted a son. That I can understand, but it cannot excuse his treatment of me. When I was fifteen, I ran away, I have not seen him since. Nor have I seen my mother. She too is a dull, hard and boring woman.”