Cade watched him walk briskly to his car. He now had the idea he wouldn’t stay longer in Acapulco. But like most people who are too sure of themselves, he dismissed the advice that had been offered.
When Oroseo had driven away, Cade left the restaurant. He paused by the Jeep and looked up at the stars that shone with an intense blue light against a background of soft black velvet. The air was close and hot. He could hear the sound of the sea as the waves slid over the sand and retreated. In the distance he could see the mountain. Its lights formed the shape of a giant iguana. The headlights of the descending cars were like fireflies as they appeared and disappeared behind the screen of trees along the road.
He drove thoughtfully back to the hotel. He kept thinking of Barreda. He decided he would call Sam Wand and find out what he had to offer. He would leave Acapulco the following morning. Once occupied with a new assignment, he was sure he would forget about Juana. He had absolutely no right, he told himself, to spoil such a honeymoon. Barreda wouldn’t be risking his life unless he was fatally in love with this woman.
Arriving at the hotel, Cade went immediately to his room. He put through a call to Wand’s apartment. Then, sitting on the bed and lighting a cigarette, he watched the moon’s reflection on the sea while he waited for the connection.
He got Wand after a twenty minute wait.
“They told me you were away for a week,” Wand said in the usual bellow that he had cultivated to impress people that he was truly alive.
“Well, don’t break my ear drum. I changed my mind. What is it, Sam?”
“What’s the trouble?” Wand asked, slightly lowering his voice. “Wouldn’t she lie down for you?”
“Skip the comedy act. This call is costing money. What is it?”
“Bull fighting,” Wand said. “There’s a new rag coming on the market next month. It’s called See For Yourself. It’s very moral, very stuffed shirt and crusading, but they have lots of lovely money. They reckon they can stop bull fighting dead in its tracks with pictures taken by you. How simple can you get? But they are offering three thousand and twenty-five per cent if the pictures are reproduced outside the States which, of course, they will be. You know the stuff they want: the broken down horses, the panting bull, the cowardly toreador, the sadistic tourists. I don’t have to tell you. There’s a good fight this Sunday. I’ve talked to Creel. He says the bulls will be good this Sunday. Diaz is fighting: popular hero right now; big time; big wheel. Can you make it?”
This was Friday night. It suited Cade very well.
“Okay, Sam, I’ll take care of it. Have Creel get the tickets. Two rows from the bottom and tell him to buy the seats either side of me. I need lots of room.”
“Okay.”
“Tell him I want to talk to Diaz before he fights and after he fights.”
“That could be a little tricky. Diaz is a big shot now. Maybe he won’t play.”
“That’s up to Creel. You tell him I want it fixed.”
“Okay. Should I reserve a room for you at El Presidente?”
Cade hesitated. His eyes went to the communicating door.
“No. I’ll take care of that. Did you get those last pictures I sent you?”
“Just arrived. They are sensational! Val, you are truly terrific. I mean that. I...”
Cade who had heard it all before gently replaced the receiver. He sat for some moments, thinking. He was pleased with the assignment. It offered him a new challenge. He would have to work with a fast shutter and because the light wouldn’t be good, with a large aperture. The depth of field would be tricky, but he liked tricky problems.
He picked up the telephone receiver and asked the Hall Porter about the planes leaving for Mexico City tomorrow. He was told that there was a plane leaving at 09.15 hours. There was no need to reserve a seat. The plane was never full. Cade thanked him and hung up. He then looked across the room at the communicating door. He got to his feet, went over to the door and putting his ear against the panel, he listened. No sound came to him. He walked out onto the balcony and leaning forward he examined the window of the adjacent room. The window was shut and no light showed. He returned to his room.
So it had been a joke, he thought rubbing the back of his neck and frowning. She hadn’t changed rooms. A stupid, rotten idea of a joke.
He took his Valapack from the closet and began to pack. He was angry with himself for being so angry. Hadn’t he already decided that he wouldn’t intrude? Then what was he getting so worked up about? His packing completed, he wondered if he should go down to the bar for a last drink. It was now a little after midnight. He decided to go to bed.
He stripped off his clothes, then before going into the bathroom, he again listened at the communicating door. Again silence greeted him.
“Oh, the hell with it!” he said aloud.
He remained under the cold shower for some time. And when finally he turned off the water and dried himself, he felt relaxed and no longer angry.
As he walked out of the bathroom, his telephone bell rang. He put on his pyjama trousers before lifting the receiver.
“Hello?” he said, wondering if Sam Wand had forgotten some detail of the assignment and was calling back.
“Hello. I saw your light was on.”
Her voice and accent were unmistakable. Immediately his heart began to beat very fast and he found himself suddenly short of breath.
“Oh, did you?” It was all he could think of to say.
“Yes. Have I disturbed you?”
“No... no... of course not.”
“That’s good. I wanted to tell you my side of the door is unlocked.”
Even with this unbearably suffocating excitement, he did think of Barreda.
“I was just going to bed,” he said, aware that his voice was unsteady.
“I am in bed.”
He replaced the receiver and walked quickly across the room, slid back the bolt on the communicating door, opened the door and paused to look into the room.
She had shaded the bedside lamp with a blue silk scarf. There was just enough light for him to see her stretched out on the bed. Her gleaming black tresses covered her naked body. She was looking towards him and smiling.
He moved into the room and closed the door.
They had a mad rush to catch the 09.15 plane, arriving at the airport with only seven minutes in hand. There were only eight other passengers: a group of American tourists, festooned with cameras, flowered sun hats and enormous sombreros.
As they might have expected, the aircraft was late. Their furious drive now turned out to be a needless risk. The aircraft finally took off at 09.55 hours.
The adventure — it was the most exciting and unique adventure Cade had yet experienced — was slightly spoilt for him by his feeling of guilt.
It was when the dawn was lighting the night sky, and as they lay side by side, spent by their fierce love-making, that she said she was coming to Mexico City with him.
“Who told you I was going to Mexico City?” he demanded, startled.