"It is magnetic, you know, Señor? I thought you might be interested to see it"
"I am… most interested."
I put the bug-direction finder in my pocket and pulled out a few hundred pesetas. I handed them to the boy. "This is for you," I said. "For your interest And for your silence."
"I understand, Señor."
I was sure he did.
Now I knew how Moscato had found out about the cable car meeting.
I had told him myself 1
Twelve
As Juana and I sat in the garden of the Alhambra we were approached by a short, dark, black-eyed, curly-headed gypsy, named Gervasio Albanez. He was conducting our tour, which had gone on ahead. By design Juana and I had stayed behind.
"It is warm for the Andalusia," he said in a very good English accent.
"But not for Morocco," I said in response, embarrassed again for Hawk and the totally puerile Recognition System AXE had set up.
He nodded and glanced about. There was a concrete bench under a pepper tree, and he took us there. We sat together looking out over the reflecting pool and the big Moorish arch opposite.
"I have news for you," he said in a whisper. "We must meet directly after the tour is over."
"News?" I asked.
He put his finger to his lips. "Afterward. On the hill opposite." He gestured past the Alhambra toward a hillside to the northeast We had been told earlier that there were a number of caves on the hillside, caves in which a large gypsy population still lived. In fact, Gervasio himself had told us that.
I nodded. "After the tour. At the entrance to the Alhambra."
The crowd around the Alhambra entrance was thinning as we came out Gervasio walked us over to the parking lot.
"You have a car?"
"Alas, no," Gervasio smiled. He was pouring on the charm in Juana's direction. "I have nothing but a very small Lambretta…
"Don't bleed all over the footpath," I said. "Come with us. We'll drive you back here later and you can pick up the Lambretta."
"You are so land."
"Negative. We're simply practical. We can't spend time driving back and forth waiting for you to make it up the big hills. Where do we go?"
"I live in a cave, Señor," he said tragically, giving Juana more juice with his eyes.
She stared at him. He was getting to her.
"Forget it, Gervasio. I'll bet you've got a fourteen-liter jug full of solid gold coins in the bottom of that cave. Come now, haven't you?"
His eyes gleamed. "You are a humorous man, Señor."
Gervasio and Juana climbed in the back seat. He was watching her guardedly, but I could see his eyes occasionally viewing me in the mirror.
"Go down here, Señor, then to the right," he told me, and kept up a running patter until, a short time later, we pulled up in front of a hole in the mountain. There were other cars parked around, along with a pile of motorbikes. There were Seats and Peugeots, mostly. It was one large parking lot in the dirt.
"We sit here."
I nodded. I was watching him in the rearview mirror. "Now that news, Gervasio."
"Sí. Señor Mitch Kelly wishes you to call him immediately in Malaga."
"Did he give any reason why?"
"He certainly did not, Señor. But he was insistent."
"Where can I call him?"
"I have a line inside the house."
He gestured to the cave mouth.
I glanced at Juana. "Well, let's go in."
We got out and followed Gervasio into the cave. Inside it was furnished exactly like any house, with heavy Spanish furniture, and carpets on the pounded dirt floor. There were light bulbs and lamps plugged into piped-in electric sockets. The smell of cooking was very heavy in the main room.
Gervasio went to the bookcase at the end of the room and brought out a leather-covered case that reminded me of Mitch Kelly's R/T in the Malaga safe house.
He plugged it in and let it warm up. I sat watching him. Juana got up and walked around, looking in awe at the hangings on the walls, the expertly woven tapestries, the lace covering the tables, the paintings.
Gervasio gave the code letters and answered Kelly's request for identification.
"Kelly?" I said after a moment. "Why the hot line?"
"It's the girl here. She's headed for Sol y Nieve."
"Right. So?"
"You've been having trouble?"
I paused, looking at Gervasio. "Trouble?"
"Well, you haven't raised Roman Nose. Right?"
"As a matter of fact, we have."
There was silence. "Listen," said Kelly. "The girl here received a call from Roman Nose yesterday, informing her of the death of a young man, and then this morning of the death of another man!"
"It's true."
"Roman Nose refused to meet with you or N.X. Right?" N.X. Narcotics Expert. Very nice. Juana Rivera.
I waited. "Negative. What reason would he have?"
"Roman Nose says he wants to call the whole thing off. He is sure it's a set-up. He's sure his organization is trying to kill him. Do you read me?"
"Loud and clear."
"Girl is driving up now in a red Jaguar. A red Jaguar. Understood?"
"Understood. Question. Why is she coming?"
"She says she wants to talk Roman Nose into meeting with you."
"Hold it a moment. We have both met Roman Nose. Repeat. We have both met Roman Nose. Do you read me?"
Pause. "I read you."
"I do not understand why she thinks we have not met Roman Nose?"
"Perhaps you have not."
"There is that possibility. Roman Nose was not really unequivocally identified. But he did give us material."
"The girl insists you did not meet Roman Nose. Roman Nose wants to return to Corsica without risk of identification by his enemies. So, no meet with you."
"Then you think our Roman Nose is not the Roman Nose."
"A repeat performance of the show in Malaga Harbor. Yes. Quite possible."
"It's fairly clear to me," I admitted. "Two possibilities: Roman Nose is Roman Nose, or Roman Nose is not. Kelly. Get in your car and join us at Sol y Nieve."
Pause. "Why?"
"I need your help. We've got to make sure Roman Nose is who he says he is."
"How can I help?"
"It's a complicated story. But I know what to do now."
"I wish I could say the same!"
"Sol y Nieve. Sierra Nevada Hotel. Tonight. Right?"
"Right."
"Over and out."
I sat there a long time staring into the set. Then I turned around and saw Juana watching me.
"Well?"
I glanced around. Gervasio was watching us too, with wide eyes. I spoke to Juana. "Have you got that microfilm?"
"Yes," she said, reaching in her bag.
"Good. Give it to Gervasio."
She did so. He looked down at the small packet of film in his hand. Then his eyes questioningly to me.
"Blow up that roll, and send it character by character to AXE."
The gypsy nodded.
"Juana, you take the Renault back to Sol y Nieve."
"Without you?" Her eyes narrowed.
"Yes. I'm going to intercept Tina Bergson."
"But why?"
"The minute she appears at the resort and talks to the real Corelli, hell immediately be identified."
"But…?"
"I mean, someone is trying to kill him."
"Who?"
"The man who calls himself Barry Parson."
Juana's eyes widened. "But why must it be Parson?"
"It's got to be."
"Then there were two people out to kill Corelli?" Juana asked with a frown.
"Quite probably the Mafiosi laid out two contracts on him just in case one didn't work out."
"It's complicated."
"You bet your life it is. Look. Let's analyze it Suppose Parson wants to kill Corelli. Right? And Parson, like us, doesn't know Corelli by sight. But he does know I'm trying to set up a meet with Corelli. Not only I — but you and I. So he gets close to us. As close as possible."