“You saw no one else in the car?” Diaz asked.
“No one in the back with de Laiglesia. A driver, of course, but just a glimpse of a uniform hat.”
“Did the Major carry anything?”
“Yes, of course! I had forgotten until you asked. A leather briefcase, dark brown or black.”
“This is all very interesting,” Diaz said. He took a packet of dark, thin cigars from his pocket and extracted one. Rafael waved them away when they were offered to him. Diaz struck a match, waited until the chemicals had burned away, then carefully lit the cigar. Only then did he speak.
“We have been keeping a close eye on your sadistic Major, who now enjoys the rank of military attache at the Paraguayan embassy here. He is a running dog, nothing but a messenger boy who does their dirty errands for them. Small fry — but small fry are the easiest to watch. He drinks a lot, gambles, goes with Spanish whores in Soho — while he weeps a lot about his mother while they whip him. A dirty piece of work, our Major.”
“I would like to kill him,” Rafael said vehemently.
“So would a lot of other people. But he is of more value to us alive for the time being. Something is happening in Paraguay, something big. We have had reports from Asuncion. There have been couriers coming here and a lot of stirring about. We do not have enough people to watch them all of the time so we missed de Laiglesia’s little motoring journey. Our thanks for pointing it out to us. I have checked and he was seen leaving the embassy around noon. So this is a quick round trip to Southampton. For what reason?”
“To do something that he did not wish to be seen doing in London?” Rafael asked, hesitantly.
“My reasoning exactly. They know they are being watched; they’re not complete fools. So a flying visit to Cunard in Southampton, with a briefcase that can hold papers, money…. “
“Or it could hold tickets.”
“Quite possibly. But whatever it held it was something that they didn’t want us to know about — which means we are now very interested in it. A briefcase with something they are very concerned about in it.”
“And a brochure about a world cruise on the QE2. Is there a connection?”
“I don’t know — but I do know that we are going to find out. Our thanks, Rafael, for your help.”
“I want no thanks — I will do anything to combat these filth, these vermin…. “
Rafael started to cough, deeply and strongly, and Diaz rested his hand on the other man’s arm, lightly. There was little else he could do for him or any of the other victims of the regime. “We have had no more word about your parents,” he said.
Rafael nodded and wiped his hand across his lips. “I know… you would have told me right away if you had.”
“There is still hope—.”
“I doubt it. I have stopped hoping. It does no good. I have no family, I have faced that. I am a stinking dishwasher aboard a filthy tub. Some day, God willing, I will be able to go home again. It is you and your people, Diaz, who will make that possible. Perhaps I will be able to go back to the university. I don’t know. Meanwhile stay alive…. “
“Old friend; do you need some money? Is there anything we can do for you?”
Rafael shook his head in a slow no. “I have nothing to spend money on. I’m all right. Just do what you are doing. Now I will finish this drink and go back to the station. There is a late train I can get so I will be back to the ship tonight. There is less trouble that way.”
They shook hands and Rafael departed in silence. Diaz looked after him as he left and seemed unaware of the man who came in through the side door of the pub and joined him in the booth.
“He has gone out for the evening,” the newcomer said.
“Apparently on the way to his whores again. Victorio is following him.”
“And Victorio has a radio?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then he can warn us in time if the pig is returning to his quarters. We will be looking for a briefcase that could be of immense interest. Come then Luis, I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
Charles Street in Mayfair is not far from Park Lane and most of the top hotels in London. The area is well lit, clean, well-policed, and reeks of gentility and money. The two Paraguayans parked their car in Berkeley Square and strolled slowly in the direction of the park. If they were noticed, they were accepted, for they were neatly dressed and groomed; the thin attache case Diaz carried could have held papers rather than the tools of the criminal trade.
Without slowing or looking about, they turned into the doorway of the building where de Laiglesia lived. There were other apartments here and Diaz had enquired about a vacancy some months earlier; taking the opportunity to make an impression of the estate agent’s key at the time. They saw no one as he unlocked the front door and made their way up the stairs to the second floor. Diaz had the lockpick ready in his fingers as they approached the door in the front of the building. Diaz knocked on the door, waited a few moments, then knocked again.
“He’s out,” Luis said, “you know that.”
“Of course I know that. But perhaps he left a visitor behind who doesn’t know that. Always use care.”
Luis shrugged expressively, saying as clearly as he could with words that he disagreed. When no one answered after the second knock, Diaz took out the pick and inserted it in the lock.
“What are you doing there?” a woman’s voice asked from down the hall.
Diaz calmly knocked on the door again, at the same time palming the lockpick.
“Can’t you hear me? What do you want?”
Luis was standing stock still, not knowing what to do. But Diaz turned slowly, saw the sharp-faced woman in the open door down the hall, and tipped his hat politely.
“Excuse me, madam. I didn’t realize that you were talking to us.”
“Well, who else is in this hall? Well?”
“How charming of you to ask.” Diaz smiled warmly. “We are here knocking on the door of our friend Mr. Penninck who pressed the button to release the catch on the ground floor door so we could enter the building. Does that answer your question, madam?”
The woman sniffed and withdrew her head — then almost smiled. “It is a very good answer. Except that you are on the wrong floor. Mr. Penninck is the floor above.” She closed the door with a triumphant bang.
“So sorry,” Diaz said, winking strongly at the befuddled Luis.
They walked heavily down the hall and up the stairs. Diaz leaned close to whisper.
“Do you see what I mean about taking care?”
“Yes… but who is this Penninck?”
“I have no idea. But I took the precaution of noting his name when I was last here. In case I should ever have to explain my presence in the building.”
Luis was impressed. Even more so when Diaz knocked on the fire door, then opened it. “Ahh, hello, do come in,” he said in a deep voice trying to disguise his own. Then he slammed the fire door shut and touched his fingers to his lips.
On the floor below they heard a door close.
“For a lawyer you make a pretty good thief,” Luis whispered.
“Many people would say that they are the same thing. We’ll wait a few minutes, then go down as quietly as we can. No noise. If she sees us again we’ll have to leave.”
Diaz forced himself to wait a full three minutes. They slipped down the stairs and tiptoed to the apartment door below. Diaz had the lockpick ready in his fingers and he quickly inserted it and probed for the combination. Luis looked worriedly towards the entrance of the woman’s apartment. When the door finally opened they pushed in as quickly as they could and closed it silently behind them.