“It’s all right.” I sat on the table. “It’s just my bad luck he should have turned up.”
“Why bad luck?”
I hesitated, wondering whether to tell her what Savanto had told me. For a few brief moments I decided not to tell her, then I changed my mind. She would have to know. There was to be no more talk about Timoteo and she would have to be told why. So I told her.
She sat motionless, her hands between her knees, her eyes a little wide, listening.
“So you see this makes for complications,” I concluded. “From now on, we mustn’t say a word about Timoteo or his father or our arrangements to anyone. Understand?”
“Could the police involve you if they found out you were teaching a man who, by law, mustn’t touch a gun?” she asked.
“Of course not. I’ll say I didn’t know.”
“But, Jay, you do know.”
“They couldn’t prove it.”
“I also know. Do you expect me to lie to the police if they ask me?”
I pushed myself off the table and began to prowl around the room.
“I must earn this money. I’m hoping you will co-operate.”
“By co-operation, you mean I will have to lie to the police?”
I turned around, staring at her.
“Look at this.” I took the envelope from my pocket, took out the bond and laid it on the table. “Look at this.”
She got up, walked to the table and bent over the bond. Her long, silky hair fell forward, hiding her face. She straightened, then looked at me.
“What about it?”
“That’s one of the bonds I told you about. It’s worth twenty-five thousand dollars. Savanto gave it to me. I can keep it, along with the other bond, when I have done the job. He means business, so we have to mean business… you and I… both of us.”
“Why did he give it to you when you haven’t earned it?”
“To show he trusts me.”
“Are you sure?”
I was beginning to heat up again.
“Why else for God’s sake?”
“It could be a psychological move.” She leaned forward, her eyes scared. “You see, Jay, now you have this bond, you won’t want to part with it. You’ll be hooked with it.”
“So okay, he doesn’t trust me, but he gives me twenty-five thousand dollars to get me hooked. He doesn’t have to do that! I’m hooked already ! I know what money this big can do for us! I’m going to earn it! I’ll teach that guy to shoot if I have to kill him!”
She stared at me as if she were looking at a stranger. Then she moved to the door.
“It’s getting late. Let’s go to bed.”
“Just a minute.” I found a pen, wrote my name and address and my bank account number on the envelope, put the bond in an envelope and sealed down the flap. Will you go to the bank first thing tomorrow, Lucy, and tell them to hold this for me? I would do it myself, but Timoteo is coming at six and I have to make a start with him. Will you do that? Will you also get in a stock of food?” I took two of the hundred dollar bills Savanto had given me from my wallet. “Buy enough food for a week and get in a lot of beer.”
She took the money.
“All right.”
She went along the passage to the bedroom. I knew for the first time since we had married, she was unhappy. The thought nagged me. I stood looking at the envelope. I had to think of our future. She would snap out of it in time, I told myself. I had Timoteo on my mind. For the moment, she had to take second place.
Carrying the envelope, I went into the bedroom. She was in the bathroom, taking a shower. I put the envelope under my pillow, then sat on the bed, waiting for her.
Neither of us slept much that night.
CHAPTER TWO
We got up at 04.45, and while Lucy heated the coffee, I took a shower and had a shave. Although I had slept badly, I was now more relaxed. I had a job of work ahead of me, and when I’m working, I’m always in a good frame of mind. During the past four months when I had had so little to do except worry about our finances, I had been getting slack and irritable. That doesn’t mean I hadn’t enjoyed having a lazy time with Lucy, but enough was enough. I was ready to go to work again.
I found Lucy sitting on the patio, sipping her coffee and watching the sun come up behind the palm trees.
“When Timoteo arrives,” I said, taking the cup of coffee that was waiting for me on the table, “you won’t see me until lunch time.” I sat down by her. She looked a little wan and still worried, but this wasn’t the time to worry about her worries. I would have to shelve that problem until later. “I want you down at the bank by nine o’clock. When you get back, will you telephone our six pupils and tell them we are closed until the end of the month? I don’t think they’ll care. Colonel Forsythe might be tricky. Turn the charm on. Tell him we just have to paint the place. I am sure you can handle him.”
“All right, Jay.”
“Get enough food in to last a week.” I hesitated, then went on. “Watch your cooking. His father is paying the bills. He’ll expect to be well fed. We have five hundred dollars to cover the expenses.”
Panic showed in her eyes.
“All right, Jay.”
I smiled at her.
“Now don’t flap. We are about to earn fifty thousand dollars. Remember you are as important as I am in this deal. I’m relying on you to take everything off my back except teaching this guy to shoot.” I finished my coffee and lit a cigarette. The first cigarette of the morning is always my favourite. “Everything good that comes to me, I want to share with you.”
She pressed her hands together.
“Is it this job or the money that has made you change?” she asked in a low voice.
“Change? I haven’t changed. I don’t get it.”
“You have changed, Jay.” She looked up and forced a smile. “When you told me the first time we met that you had been an army instructor, I found it hard to believe. You weren’t like an army man… you were so kind, so understanding to me. I couldn’t believe you could handle men, give orders, be ruthless. It puzzled me.” She paused. “I see now why you will teach this man to shoot. I’m a little scared of you now. I do see you have to be rough and hard if you are to succeed, but please try not to be tough and hard with me.”
I got up and pulled her out of her chair and took her face in my hands.
“No matter what, Lucy, remember this: I love you. I am the luckiest guy alive to have found you. Go along with me for a few days, then it will change. You’ll look back on this and you’ll forgive me if I’ve hurt you and you’ll see what I’m doing now is right for both of us.”
We were kissing, holding each other and I was even forgetting what was ahead of me when the sound of an approaching car parted us.
“Here they come,” I said. “Okay, honey, I’ll see you at lunch time.”
I moved off the verandah into the sun.
Coming up the drive was a small truck. Two men were in the front seats. The driver, seeing me, waved his hand, then steered the truck towards me. I waited.
The truck pulled up and both men got out. The driver was middle height, wearing only a pair of black boxing trunks. His body was covered with thick, coarse hair. He was around thirty years of age with a fleshy, swarthy face. If you like the Dago type — I don’t — you could call him handsome. He was certainly sexy and in fine condition. Flat muscles rippled under his skin. He could be as quick as a lizard and as strong as a bull.
My eyes shifted to his companion. He was older, shorter and he wore one of those Hawaiian shirts that have dropped out of favour : yellow flowers on a red background and a pair of grubby white slacks. His swarthy face was pock-marked, his eyes small, his lips thin and his nose broad and flat. He looked like one of those types you see on TV, playing a minor moronic gangster.