The Ambassador nodded. “Now that there is reason to believe she might be alive, I am perfectly willing to call the Minister of Justice and ask that the police investigation be reopened. Is that what you want?”
Cat froze. He hadn’t counted on this; he had become so accustomed to pursuing Jinx and her kidnappers on his own that the thought of the police coming into it shocked him.
Hedger spoke before Cat could. “If I may suggest, sir, I’d like to take a look at this situation with Mr. Catledge before we bring the police back into it.”
“If that’s what you think best,” the Ambassador replied. “Mr. Catledge, is that your wish?”
Cat nodded. “Yes, it is. For the moment, anyway.”
“Fine. Just remember that I am happy to relaunch official inquiries whenever you wish, and should Senator Carr’s office inquire about our conversation, I hope you will tell them I told you that.”
“Thank you. Yes, of course.”
The Ambassador leaned forward and folded his hands on his chest. “Now, about the difficulties arising from your little indiscretion of yesterday.”
Cat’s stomach tightened. He didn’t look forward to being returned to the Colombian police.
“I’ve had a word with the Minister of Justice, who has spoken with the Chief of Police. It is the consensus that all parties will best be served if the events of yesterday are deemed not to have occurred.”
Cat was nearly faint with relief. “Thank you, Mr. Ambassador; I’m very grateful.”
The Ambassador responded with a benevolent nod. “I need hardly say that all parties, especially you, will be happiest if further incidents of this or any other kind are avoided. There is only so much I can do, you understand.”
Cat had the momentary feeling of being a schoolboy in the principal’s office. “Yes, sir, I understand completely, and again, let me say how grateful I am for your help.”
The Ambassador stood up and offered his hand. “Then I will return you to the tender mercies of Mr. Hedger and his colleagues.”
Cat shook the man’s hand and followed Hedger back to his office.
Hedger waved Cat to a chair, sank into his own, and opened a desk drawer. He tossed Cat a heavy manila envelope. “That’s everything the police took off you yesterday except the piece. I’ll hang on to that. Count the money.”
Cat slipped on his Rolex and riffled through the bills. “It’s all here. Thanks.” He stuffed the money into the shoulder wallet and put it back into the envelope. “Where’s my passport and ID?”
“You mean the Ellis junk? I’ll hang on to that, too.” He took out a telephone, somewhat larger than the one on his desk, and tapped in a number. “This is Hedger in Bogotá. Give me Drummond.” He paused. “Good morning, sir, this is Hedger. Yes, sir.” He pushed the telephone across the desk and handed the receiver to Cat.
Puzzled, Cat took the instrument. He didn’t know anybody named Drummond. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is Jim. You okay?”
“Oh, hello. Yes, I’m fine. The people here have been very helpful.”
“You making any progress?”
“Yes, a lot.”
“Good. Keep at it. They’ll do what they can there, but it may not be a hell of a lot.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. And listen, I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for confirming the phone call from Jinx. Without that I would have given up.”
“Glad to do it. Has Bluey been a help?”
Cat shrank inside. “I’m sorry, but Bluey was killed in Santa Marta.” He explained what had happened. “I’ve already made some provision for his child.”
“That was good of you,” Jim said, “but you shouldn’t feel too badly about Bluey. He used up all nine lives a long time ago. He had all these pipe dreams about retiring and going into some sort of legitimate business, but believe me, he wouldn’t have. It just wasn’t in him to lead a quiet life. If he hadn’t caught it in Santa Marta, he’d have caught it somewhere else next week or next month. He was a pro, and he knew the risks better than you.”
“Well, thanks for that, anyway.”
“I gotta run. Keep Hedger posted; he’ll keep me posted. Anything else?”
“I’d still like to keep the stuff you gave me.”
“Sure. From what I hear, that hasn’t been compromised. Give me Hedger. Take care.”
Cat handed the telephone back to Hedger.
“Yes, sir?” He listened for a moment, then hung up, put the instrument back into the drawer, and tossed Cat his Ellis wallet and passport. “How’d you and Drummond get hooked up?” Hedger asked.
“Mutual acquaintance,” Cat replied.
“You know why he’s doing this.”
Cat looked at Hedger, puzzled.
“You don’t know. His daughter.”
“What about his daughter?”
“He was station head in Paris four years ago. The girl, she was sixteen, was kidnapped on the way to school. They shot the officer who was driving her. Drummond got a note. One of the terrorist organizations.”
“What did they want? Ransom?”
Hedger shook his head. “They wanted Drummond. Said they’d exchange the girl for him. Our people and the French laid on a big operation. It went wrong. They cut four Arabs in a car to pieces. The girl wasn’t with them. After that, there was no more communication with the kidnappers. No demands, I mean.”
“What happened to the girl?”
“They mailed her to Drummond in pieces. First, her fingers; then, her ears. It got worse. Went on for days. The police finally found what was left of her body in a raid on a safe house. She’d been alive when they were mutilating her.”
Cat rubbed his forehead. “Jesus Christ.”
“A few days later, the French caught one of the kidnappers. They left Drummond alone with the man, and, eventually, he gave up the three who were still alive. There was a police raid on a Paris apartment. None of the three survived. The French are more efficient about these things than we are.”
Cat couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“There’s a little more. As a result of all this, Drummond’s wife is permanently institutionalized. The girl was their only child. All Drummond does is work and visit her.”
“That’s the worst story I ever heard,” Cat said. “Yours is almost as bad, and it could get worse.”
Cat looked at him. “Is that why you’re telling me all this? To prepare me for the worst?”
“Yeah. I think you ought to know that your chances of finding the girl alive are almost nil. You’re looking for a miracle, and it probably isn’t going to happen.”
“The miracle has already happened,” Cat said. “When I heard her voice on the telephone, when I knew she was alive, that was the miracle.”
“I hope your luck holds,” Hedger said. “You’re not improving the odds by running around with that Communist, either.”
Cat sat up. “Communist?”
“Your Señorita Greville. Don’t you know who she is?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Remember Charles Adam Greville?”
The name sounded familiar, but Cat couldn’t place it.
“The House Un-American Activities Committee hearings, in the fifties?”
It was coming back to him. “You mean the guy who was hounded out of the State Department?”
“Hounded, my ass. The guy was a Russian agent.”
“Come on, Hedger, that was never proved.”
“He did time for it.”
“No, I remember, he was jailed for contempt of Congress. He was a hero to a lot of people. Still is.”
Hedger snorted. “Hero! He was booted out of State, never held a job again, died in disgrace. Of course the girl was just a kid at the time, but she followed in his footsteps. Half the reporting she’s done has been inside stuff on Communist insurgents around the world. In Vietnam, she took the Vietcong side of things, went to Hanoi with Jane Fonda for Christ’s sake. Since then she’s been in Nicaragua, the Philippines, Cuba, and right here, in Colombia. She’s plugged into the M 19 guerrilla organization, a very bad bunch.”