Among his pile of mail, waiting for him at the apartment, was a short note from Vicki Marshall.
Dear Mr. Cade,
I want to thank you for what you did for Jerry. Could we meet? Would you come here when you have a free moment? I am at home most evenings.
yours sincerely,
Vicki Marshall.
The same evening, Cade rang on her front door-bell. He found this girl serious, gentle, understanding and artistic, the companion he had always hoped to find, but up to this moment, had believed a mirage of his imagination.
They talked until two o’clock in the morning. Jerry, she said had gone to Canada. He had a friend in Vancouver who ran a skittle alley and had been pressing Jerry to work with him as his partner. It was a pretty nightmare thing, she said, to have a brother who was homosexual, but it was something you just had to accept. They had always got on well together, and were very fond of each other, but she realised now they were better parted.
She told Cade she was a tremendous admirer of his work. She talked about some of his recent successes, and it pleased him she really knew what she was talking about. This wasn’t idle flattery.
When he finally looked at his watch and saw the time, he got to his feet.
“I have a few free days,” he said. “How are you fixed? Could we go somewhere tomorrow? We could get out of town...”
She looked at the clutter of drawings on the big table under the window.
“I can’t. I would love to, but not tomorrow. You could come here tomorrow evening for dinner. Would you like that?”
“Very much. All right, suppose we go out? I know a place...”
She smiled.
“Are you afraid of my cooking?”
He suddenly thought of Juana. Vicki saw his sudden expression of pain and she said quickly, “Then let’s go out. I would like that.”
“No, I would prefer to come here. It’s nicer here.”
For the next ten days, he was around at her apartment every evening. It was after the fourth evening, after he had told her about Juana, about his drinking, about the nightmare weeks when he had lived in an Indian shack not caring whether he was alive or dead that he realised he was in love with her. He was careful to say nothing although he felt she was also in love with him. The ghost of Juana was too close still and too dangerous. He was frightened of starting something that would come to pieces as the Juana episode had come to pieces.
He welcomed the assignment that took him and Burdick to Paris. It was May, and Burdick thought they should do an article on the American tourist invasion of Paris. Cade agreed. He needed time and distance to get his association with Vicki into perspective. He thought continuously of her while in Paris, and on the flight back, eight days later, he made his decision. He would get his divorce, and as soon as he was free, he would ask Vicki to marry him.
Without saying anything to Burdick, he consulted a lawyer, specialising in divorce. He was told there would be no difficulty. Mexican divorces went through quickly and easily. He would have to go down to Mexico City for a couple of weeks. The lawyer gave him the address of his Mexican representative who he said would arrange everything.
Cade told Mathison he had sudden urgent personal business to take care of and would be out circulation for two weeks. That was all right with material. He had plenty of Cade’s material to run on.
Cade told Burdick he was going to Mexico to get his divorce. Guessing what was in the wind, Burdick wished him luck.
Cade spent the evening before his departure with Vicki. He said nothing about the divorce. He feared there might be an unexpected snag, and until he was sure he was free, he couldn’t bring himself to confide in her. He said he had to go to Mexico to clear up some outstanding business.
The following morning, he flew to Mexico City.
Six
Cade walked through the main lobby of El Prado hotel where Rivera’s fifty-foot-long A Dream on a Sunday Afternoon mural was being gaped at by a large gathering of American tourists.
He had had a lonely lunch in the grill room. He wasn’t sure now what he was going to do with himself. The day was Sunday. He had spent the past three days talking to his Mexican lawyers who airily told him there would be no difficulty about the divorce, but kept asking him to consult with them, to sign papers, and to check and recheck the obvious evidence of Juana’s adultery which he was now sick of explaining to them.
He walked to the bookstall with the idea of getting a paperback and then going to sit in the Alameda Gardens until the sun went down.
“Senor Cade!”
He looked around and was confronted by Adolfo Creel’s beaming face. A great weight of loneliness lifted from him. To see this fat Mexican who had been such a good friend to him was the nicest thing he imagined could happen to him. But as he shook hands, he felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t contacted Creel before. He knew why. Creel was too close to his past, but now they were together, Cade felt nothing but pleasure.
“This is a very special moment in my life, senor,” Creel said, his eyes moist with emotion. “I had no idea you were here. You look wonderful! Senor Cade! I am very, very happy!”
“That makes two of us,” Cade said. “Let’s have a drink or something and talk. Have you the time?”
“Of course.” Creel went with Cade into the dimly-lit bar. “I don’t have to ask. All is well with you. I have seen your magnificent work for the Sun. Forgive a stupid, uneducated man like myself, but your photographs move me.”
Cade was glad of the dim lighting. He squeezed Creel’s fat arm. It wasn’t until they were sitting side by side on the padded bench and Cade had ordered a Coke for himself and a coffee for Creel, that he was able to say in a steady enough voice, “Adolfo, for Pete’s sake, stop calling me Senor Cade. I regard you as the best friend I have ever had. Call me Val, and what is all this nonsense about being stupid and uneducated?”
Creel squirmed with pleasure. “Tell me please. Why are you here?”
Without hesitation, Cade told him about Vicki.
“This girl, Adolfo, means everything to me. I’m here for a divorce. You must meet her. She is everything that Juana isn’t. I guess I was crazy getting mixed up with that woman. Now, I’m seeing sense at last. All I want is to be free of her.”
Creel put three lumps of sugar into his coffee.
“That I can understand. Juana is not for you. She has a fatal destiny. She thinks only of the body and of money. This is a disease with her.”
Cade jiggled the ice cubes in his glass.
“What has happened to her?”
“She is here,” Creel said.
Cade felt a sudden tightening in his throat.
“Still with Diaz?”
“No. Here then is an example of her destructiveness. When they returned from Spain, it was all over. This afternoon, I am going to see what I hope will be Pedro Diaz’s last bull fight.”
Cade stared at him.
“What do you mean... his last fight?”
“He is now a wreck of a man. Yes, I know, through him you were brutally beaten. He was arrogant, cruel and vicious, but he had courage. She has taken away his courage so he has nothing left but his skill, but skill is nothing without courage. You would be sorry for him if you saw him. Last Sunday they threw bottles at him. The Sunday before they whistled at him. This afternoon...” Creel lifted his fat hands and let them drop heavily on his knees.
“But why, Adolfo?”
The fat Mexican looked at him, then away.
“Do you remember a certain Indian shack? You ask why?”
Cade flinched.