“Thanks for bringing me here,” Cat said with feeling. “How did you know?”
“Your friend Señorita Greville,” he nearly spat the name, “called me from the airport. I was in a meeting with the Ambassador, but she was insistent.”
“Is she here?”
“No. I don’t know where she is.”
“We’re both at the Tequendama. Can I call her?”
“There’s no phone in this room, and you probably don’t feel like moving around. I’ll have my secretary call her. What should she say?”
“Just that I’m okay, and I’ll call her there as soon as possible. Oh, ask her to try and find out where the airplane went.”
“Airplane?”
“She’ll know what I’m talking about.”
“I expect she will, but I don’t. What the hell are you doing, anyway?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I don’t doubt it. A short story wouldn’t cover somebody who’s travelling, armed, in a South American country, with a false passport and seventy-one thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills in his pocket.”
Cat winced. “You’re right, that wasn’t very smart. I was trying to catch up to somebody; I didn’t think.”
The doctor walked into the room carrying an X-ray film. “Nothing broken,” he said to Hedger, “but a hell of a lot of bruising. They worked him over pretty good.”
“No more than he deserved,” Hedger replied.
“When can I get out of here?” Cat asked.
“We’ll keep you overnight, I think,” the doctor replied. “Let’s be sure there’s no concussion. You can go tomorrow, if you feel up to it.”
“He’s not going anywhere until I say so,” Hedger snapped. “Thanks, Doc, that’s all.”
“I’ll send you a painkiller and something to help you sleep,” the doctor said to Cat, then left.
Hedger turned back to Cat. “You’re still under arrest,” he said, “but I managed to get you released to my custody. You’re not to leave the embassy compound without the permission of the Chief of Police of Bogotá.”
“What’s going to happen? Will I be prosecuted?”
“Probably.” Hedger turned and walked to the door. “I’ve got some phone calls to make. I’ll find you a lawyer, who will probably want you to cop a plea and take a shorter sentence. There’s not much question of your guilt. You’ll have the weapons charge, of course, at least one on resisting arrest, and one on violation of customs regulations — failure to declare all that money. You didn’t declare it, did you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t think so. Get some rest; you’re going to need it. I’ll talk to you later.” He left the room.
Cat closed his eyes. Christ, he had really blown it. He wasn’t going to be any help to Jinx in jail. Maybe Meg would keep working on it. He needed her now more than ever. She might be his last chance. He closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking.
21
When Cat woke the next morning, there was a brown paper package on his bed. His clothes had been laundered and pressed. Getting out of bed was not as easy as he would have liked, but after twenty minutes under a hot shower, he found he could move about quite well as long as he did not take too deep a breath or try to turn his head too far to the left. He was shocked, though, by the bruises on his shoulders and back. He decided to stay away from mirrors, until they went away.
Someone brought him bacon and eggs, and as he was finishing his second cup of coffee and starting to feel truly human again, a young American woman appeared in the doorway.
“I’m Candis Leigh, Mr. Catledge,” she said. “I work for Barry Hedger. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Much better, thanks.”
“Barry would like you to come up to his office, if you’re feeling up to it.”
Cat laughed. “If he’s the same Hedger I used to know, he’d like me to come to his office whether I feel like it or not.”
She laughed back. “You know him better than I thought.” She clipped a plastic visitor’s pass onto the pocket of his bush jacket. “Follow me.”
She led him down the hall to an elevator and pressed the button for the fourth floor. She leaned against the paneling and sighed. “Don’t mention I told you this, but he was on the phone to Washington yesterday afternoon and again this morning, and he didn’t like it very much. My guess is, he’s been told to give you whatever assistance you need, so don’t take too much crap from him.”
“Thanks, I appreciate your telling me.”
“Seems you’ve got some juice at headquarters.”
Cat shrugged. “What does Hedger do here, anyway?”
“He’s Deputy Cultural Affairs Officer.” She paused and looked at the ceiling. “Sort of.”
Cat was about to ask more, but the elevator doors opened. He followed her down the hallway and was ushered into a medium-size office, panelled in a pale wood. Barry Hedger was sitting behind the desk, talking on the telephone. He pointed at a chair, and Cat sat down.
“Yeah, yeah, well, tell him that’s all I can do for him at the moment. If I get any further word, I’ll let him know. But tell him if he expects to keep getting paid, I want better stuff than that.” He hung up without saying goodbye and stared at Cat. “You’re ambulatory, are you?”
“Yep. Listen, thanks for getting me out of that cell yesterday. I’m really very grateful, and I didn’t thank you properly.”
Hedger nodded wearily. “Yeah, yeah, well, I know a little more about your situation now. I read the stuff about the boat and all, of course; sorry about that; it was tough.”
“Thanks.”
“Now you think the girl’s alive, right?”
“I’m sure of it.”
Hedger picked up the telephone and tapped in a number. “Well, I still don’t understand your stupidity, but I guess I understand your motivation. Hello, Marge? Hedger. We’re on our way up.” He hung up the phone. “Let’s go.”
Cat followed Hedger to the elevator, up a couple of floors to a much-better-decorated hallway, through a small reception area to a large door. Hedger rapped on it.
“Come in!” a voice shouted from the other side.
The two men walked into a large, handsomely furnished office.
“This is Wendell Catledge, sir,” Hedger said. “Catledge, the Ambassador.”
Cat shook the man’s hand and accepted a chair.
The Ambassador looked at Cat silently for a moment. “Have you recovered from your little wrestling match with the police yesterday?” he asked finally.
“Yes, thank you. I’m a little stiff, but all right. Thank you for the use of embassy facilities last night. Everyone has been very kind.”
The Ambassador turned to Hedger. “He’s one of yours, then?”
Hedger looked uncomfortable. “Yes, sir, more or less.” He started to continue, but the Ambassador held up a hand.
“More or less is good enough, thank you. I don’t want to know any more.” He turned back to Cat. “Mr. Catledge, first of all, I want to say how sorry I am about what happened to your family.”
“Thank you,” Cat replied.
“I understand your daughter may be alive and in this country.”
“Yes, sir, almost certainly so.”
“Of course I was aware of the tragedy when it occurred, and various requests came across my desk more than once. I want you to know that they received the very best attention this embassy could afford them.”
“I appreciate that.”
“You can understand how, in the circumstances, after the reports we had of the incident, we did not have the slightest indication that your daughter might still be alive.”
He wants off the hook, Cat thought; that’s why I’m here. He wants me to absolve him. “Of course, I understand. I thought she was dead myself until not very long ago.”