Cade

Three

Pedro Diaz was short and compact. His square-shouldered body seemed to be constructed of steel and concrete. He radiated power and brutal strength. He was unusually dark for a Mexican. His features were regular. He was distinctly handsome, arrogant and proud.

When Cade walked into the big, tawdry sitting-room of Diaz’s hotel suite, he found Diaz standing by the open window, staring with bleak, cruel eyes at the wall of the bull ring across the road, obviously posing for Cade’s entrance. With him was Regino Franoco, his sword handler, who was fussing over the four swords in their scabbards and the fighting capes that lay on a moth-eaten settee.

Regino Franoco was a small, lean beautiful youth with a dark, vicious handsomeness. His eyes were restless and suspicious, his movements exaggerated: the movements of a fussy, neurotic woman. Cade had been warned about him by Creel.

“He amuses Diaz and he is good at his work, but he is a gossip and dangerous. Diaz is his god. There is no scandal between them because everyone knows that Diaz is a bull with women.”

Sitting in his armchair, smoking a strong smelling cigar, was a large, cheerful-looking man with an immense belly and a straggly moustache. He was the famous Renado, manager of the toreros. He pushed himself out of the chair and shook hands with Cade. He said he was very proud and happy to meet such a famous artist. In his halting Spanish, Cade repaid the compliment.

Renado then took him over to Diaz who waited by the window like a king granting an audience. It was part of Cade’s talent to break down the most difficult barriers, and in less than five minutes he had Diaz relaxed and actually smiling. He realised that this man was susceptible to flattery and he unashamedly laid it on with a trowel.

Creel who had been waiting in the open doorway, now unpacked Cade’s equipment. A few minutes later, Cade was taking pictures. He was always prepared to waste a lot of film. He knew sooner or later his subject would betray himself in a moment of forgetfulness. He had fired off more than seventy shots before he got the picture he was waiting for.

By now, Diaz was more than willing to pose. His ideas of how best he looked were of no interest to Cade although he agreed to everything Diaz suggested. The great picture came when Franoco who had been watching all this with a sneering, hostile expression of the unsuccessful watching the successful accidentally touched the swords propped up against a chair and brought them clattering to the floor. Diaz turned on him. His face was ablaze with rage and cruelty as he screamed, “You clumsy oaf! Can’t you keep still for two minutes!”

The focal plane shutter snapped and Cade knew he had his picture although he continued to take twenty more before saying it was enough.

“You are coming to see me fight?” Diaz asked. He now seemed sorry the photographic session was over.

“Of course,” Cade said, signing to Creel to repack the equipment.

“It will be a great experience for you,” Diaz said. “You will be able to tell your grandchildren that you once saw the great Diaz kill a bull.”

His face expressionless, Cade said he was aware of the honour. He promised to let Diaz have a set of pictures. The two men shook hands. Renado also shook hands. With his back turned to Diaz, he winked at Cade.

As Cade and Creel walked across the street to the bull ring, Creel said, “He is stupid, but he is a great fighter of bulls, senor. He has a lot of courage. One can forgive a man much if he has courage. This afternoon you will see him at his best In a year or so, he won’t be much. There are too many women in his life. He is as successful with women as he is with bulls. It is a combination that writes defeat.”

Cade wasn’t listening. He was thinking of Juana. She had left the hotel early in the morning. He had asked her to come with him to the bull fight, but she said bull fights bored her. She had seen too many. Besides, she had the house to prepare. As soon as he had taken his pictures, he was to come to the house where she would be waiting.

Diaz had the first bull. It was big, fast and brave. Creel said Diaz was lucky, for nowadays, few bulls were any good. The breeders had lost touch. Now the bulls were small, lively, but without courage. No matter how good, how clever a matador was, he couldn’t do much with such animals.

Although Cade knew nothing about the art of bull fighting, he quickly realised that he was witnessing a great performance by a superb, courageous artist and a fine bull. He took three hundred photographs, working swiftly and expertly with Creel acting like a gun handler, giving him the cameras he called for so quickly that Cade had scarcely any interrupted shots.

The final kill was something that remained vividly in his memory for many days. Here, Diaz demonstrated his brutal strength. His sword thrust driven in with all the power of his muscular arm sank into the bull up to the sword hilt. It was like stabbing chiffon with a needle. The bull was dead before it dropped to the sand.

While Diaz walked slowly around the ring, arrogant and proud, acknowledging the screams from the crowd, Cade nodded to Creel and they both left the bull ring.

Creel had already made arrangements for a photographic shop to remain open so that Cade could process his films, and they drove at once to the shop.

Two hours later, Cade emerged from the darkroom with a big stack of damp prints in his hands.

Creel and the owner of the shop were talking and drinking beer. They got expectantly to their feet.

“These are all right,” Cade said and began to lay the prints on the counter.

This was an understatement. As the three men examined the prints, the shop owner, a fat, balding Mexican who hated bull fighting, drew in a hissing breath.

“Yes,” he said. “I have always felt it that way, but this is the first time I have seen it that way.”

Creel said uneasily, “Diaz won’t like this, senor.”

Cade gathered up the prints and put them in a big envelope.

“Who cares? Now take me to the house.”

As Creel started the car, he said, “Diaz is a dangerous man. He is rich and popular. Have you thought of that? You haven’t flattered him. Somehow, and I don’t understand how, you have made his art ignoble.”

“That is what it is,” Cade said, relaxed and satisfied.

“Perhaps, but Diaz doesn’t think so. He could make trouble for you.”

“If I worried about people making trouble for me, I wouldn’t be in this business.”

“Yes, senor, but I thought I should mention it.”

“Thank you. We’ll see what we will see.”

Creel lifted his fat shoulders in a resigned shrug.

“I understand, senor. Like Diaz, you have courage.”

“Oh, shut up!” Cade said irritably. “Drive faster! I want to get home.”

The house surprised and delighted him. It consisted of a large living-room, two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a fitted kitchen and a double garage. There was a garden full of flowers, a small fountain and shady trees. The furnishing was modern and comfortable.

After he had been over the house with Juana and they had returned to the living-room, she looked expectantly at him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Up to this moment, he hadn’t said anything, now he took her face in his hands and kissed her mouth.

“You don’t know what this means to me,” he said, and he was moved. “It is wonderful, darling. It’s the first decent place, the first real home I have ever had, and all thanks to you. After you, this is the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me.”

She hugged him.

“I was hoping you would say that. I am so happy. This is ours, cariño, for as long as we like. You and me and this, and no one else.”

It wasn’t until they had returned from a good dinner they had had in a nearby restaurant — Cade wouldn’t listen to her protestations that she should cook for him that night — that he showed her the photographs.

They sat side by side on the settee, the french windows leading into the garden open, the sound of the fountain making a soothing background noise as she examined the pictures.

She made little comment until she reached the close shot of Diaz shouting at Franoco, then he heard her catch her breath. Pushing aside the other photographs, she stared with fixed concentration at the savage, cruel face so sharply produced in the print.

“Does he really look like this?” she asked.

“I had to wait some time before his guard was down. Yes, that is Pedro Diaz. Not as he sees himself nor as most people see him, but as he is.”

She turned and stared at him. Her dark eyes uneasy.

“I wouldn’t like you to photograph me, cariño,” she said, then seeing his surprise, she forced a laugh. “I am not serious. He won’t like this.” She dropped the photograph onto the settee and stood up. “Let us go to bed. It is our first night in our new home. It must be an important occasion.”

“You haven’t looked at the fighting pictures,” Cade said. “They are good too.”

“Yes, everything you do is good. I know that. Let’s go to bed.” She smiled invitingly. “Don’t you want to?”

Cade got to his feet.

“This will be the christening of our house,” he said.

They walked together to the door, his arm around her shoulders. They paused while he turned off the light, then in step, they mounted the stairs.

The following morning while they were drinking coffee, Cade asked Juana if she could drive a car.

“Of course,” Juana said. “Why do you ask?”

“You need a car here. I’ll look around. I should be able to find some kind of second-hand bargain... a run around.”

Juana gave a squeal of delight and threw herself on him, covering his face with kisses.

“Hey! You’re smothering me,” Cade said, pulling her onto his lap. “So you would like a car?”

She drew in a long ecstatic breath.

“I have always longed for a car of my own.”

“Well, fine, I’ll get you one.”

“But can we afford it, cariño? This house...”

“Of course we can afford it. Now I have to get off. I’ll be back by four o’clock. I have a lot to do. If you want me I will be at Olmedo’s photographic shop. I have enlargements to make. I must get these pictures off on tonight’s plane. Will you be all right until I get back?”

She laughed happily.

“Of course. I have the house. I will prepare a wonderful dinner for you. Tonight I will prove to you what a good cook I am.”

Cade took out his wallet and placed a wad of five hundred pesos bills on the table.

“When you want more, ask for it. This is your own money, Juana. Buy yourself a dress or something. From now on, we share what I have.”

Lifting her off his lap, he dumped her on the settee and ran from the house where Creel waited in his Pontiac. Cade had never felt happier. He was utterly in love and like all lovers, he was in the mood to give what he had.

As Creel, after a smiling greeting, started the car and drove down Reforma, Cade said, “I want your help, Adolfo. First, I want a car. What’s the market like for a Thunderbird?”

Visibly impressed, Creel thought for a moment, then he said, “That could be arranged, senor. I have a good friend in the car business.”

“I want it by three o’clock this afternoon.”

“If I can’t get it by then, I will never get it.”

“Okay, so you get it. Now another thing: I want a bracelet... something in diamonds. What can you do about that?”

Creel’s eyes opened wide. He nearly hit an overtaking taxi. The exchange in Spanish between the taxi driver and himself was lurid and obscene.

“Diamonds?” he said when the taxi driver, worsted in the exchange, had sped away. “But, senor, diamonds cost a lot of money.”

“Never mind about the money,” Cade said. “Can you do something about diamonds?”

“Anything can be arranged in this City providing there is money,” Creel said. “A bracelet? Well, I have a friend who deals in diamonds. Leave it to me.”

He pulled up outside the photographic shop.

“Meet me here at three o’clock,” Cade said. “With the car and the bracelet.”

“Certainly, senor,” Creel said, lifting his panama hat.

Cade grinned at him.

“You are a good man, Adolfo. Thank you.”

“She is beautiful,” Creel said. “But I am a practical man. I am happy to be of assistance, but I am also aware that when dealing with gold, the gold rubs off a little.”

Cade laughed and walked into the shop where the owner, Tomas Olmedo, was waiting for him.

By 14.30 hours, Cade had finished his prints, had packed them ready for mailing to Sam Wand. He had also completed a carefully selected and flattering batch of prints for Pedro Diaz. Olmedo said he would send his assistant around to the Hotel de Toro with the prints.

While waiting for Creel, Cade sat in Olmedo’s office and picked up the morning newspaper that was lying on the desk.

A photograph of Manuel Barreda brought him upright in his chair.

The caption under the photograph read: Manuel Barreda, the well-known ship owner, died early yesterday morning from a heart attack. Senor Barreda had been recuperating from a previous heart attack at a luxury hotel at Acapulco. He...

Cade let the newspaper slip out of his hand. He felt cold and sick. This man would have been still alive if Juana hadn’t left him. Of that he was sure. He had stolen her from him... he was responsible for his death. He put a call through to Juana who answered after a little delay.

“Have you seen the paper?” Cade asked.

“Cariño! I am too busy to read newspapers. Why?”

“Barreda had a heart attack yesterday morning. He’s dead.”

There was a pause, then she said, “Is he? Something is boiling over. I must go and look after it. You will be...”

“Did you hear what I said?” Cade demanded, his voice rising. “Barreda is dead! We probably killed him!”

“But, cariño, he was old and ill. Old men do die. Why should we, more than anyone else, have killed him? What is the matter? You sound upset?”

Cade rubbed his sweating forehead as he stared at the big photograph on the opposite wall of a girl in a bikini. Her body was insipid in comparison with Juana’s.

“Aren’t you upset?”

“Well, I am sorry, of course, but...”

“We shouldn’t have done this to him, Juana.”

“But he had to die some time,” Juana said briskly. “So don’t worry about it. I must go or your beautiful dinner will be spoilt,” and she hung up.

We all have to die some time but not in this way, Cade thought, depressed and unhappy. This could happen to me! Some man could appear in her life tomorrow, next month, next year and she would have every right to walk out of my life and into his.

Immediately, he became aware of a suffocating feeling of fear. Now he had found her, it was unthinkable that he might lose her. What was he waiting for? Why was he fooling around with her like this? He loved her. He was as crazy about her as she was about him. The obvious solution was for them to get married.

A little after 16.00 hours, Cade, driving a glittering scarlet Thunderbird, drew up outside his house. Juana came to the door as he got out of the car.

A little after 18.00 hours, they were sitting in the garden side by side on the terrace swing. She had driven the car with an expertise that surprised him around the outskirts of the city; she had cried a little with sheer happiness; she had kissed him until his face felt bruised. Now, he took her hand and snapped around her wrist the diamond bracelet he had chosen from the five Creel had found: a perfect thing that had cost twenty thousand dollars.

At 20.00 hours they were clasped fiercely in each other’s arms, naked, coupled and moaning their pleasure, the sounds of the City a background to their passion.

At 22.00 hours they were sitting down to a candle lit meal of Turkey Mole, the festival Mexican dish that Juana had somehow found time to prepare between lovemaking and half-hysterical tears.

When they had finished the meal, Juana looked expectantly across the table at him, her diamond bracelet sparkling in the candle light, her eyes like stars. “Am I a good cook? Please tell me.”

“You are truly wonderful,” Cade said, moved. “Everything about you is wonderful. The finest cook in the world.”

She jumped to her feet.

“Let us leave all this. I will attend to it tomorrow. Now, we will drive to the Pyramid of the Moon. By moonlight, it is fitting for us to look at the Pyramid after the way we have loved.”

A half-hour’s fast drive brought them to San Juan Teotihuacan where the impressive archaeological ruins stretched over an area of some twenty miles.

At the base of the vast Pyramid of the Moon, the most ancient building in the valley, by the figure of the kneeling woman who is supposed to represent the Goddess of Water, Cade asked Juana to marry him.

There could have been no more romantic and dramatic background to this challenge to his future happiness, and he was conscious of the solemn occasion.

“Are you really sure?” she asked, holding his hands in hers. “No man has ever wanted me permanently. No man has ever asked me to be his wife. I want it, but do you? It will make no difference to my love for you if you don’t. Are you really sure?”

It was what Cade wanted. He had a child-like belief in the security of marriage. Once they were married, he thought no other man could take her from him.

They arranged to be married at the end of the week.

His work finished for the moment, free and light-hearted, he was content to let Juana who knew the City by heart, show him the places of interest.

Neither of them mentioned Manuel Barreda, although there were times when Cade thought uneasily of him.

Discussing the plans for their marriage, Cade was relieved when Juana said she wanted no fuss, no party, but a honeymoon in Cozumel.

This suited Cade very well. He had a horror of ostentatious weddings, having photographed so many in the past. Juana said she had a girl friend to act as her witness and Cade decided to ask Adolfo Creel to act as his. The fat Mexican was overcome with the honour. He even wept a little as he wrung Cade’s hand, wishing him the happiness he deserved.

Cade was more than happy. Juana not only proved herself an excellent cook, but an efficient housewife. She seemed to take the greatest pleasure in running the house, keeping it clean, marketing in her Thunderbird and providing restaurant-standard meals which Cade began to regard with concern as he was putting on weight.

It was while they were packing for their honeymoon, the wedding to take place the following morning, that Sam Wand came through on the telephone from New York.

“They are raving about the bull fighting pictures,” he boomed. “And I must say, Val, this tops anything you have ever done. What are you doing now? You coming back? Do you want me to dig up something here or do you want to go some place else?”

“I’m getting married tomorrow,” Cade said, wishing he could see Wand’s, face. “I’ll be out of circulation for at least a month.”

“Sweet suffering snakes!” Wand exclaimed. “You’re not serious are you? Married? I don’t believe it!”

When Cade had finally convinced him and had told him something about Juana who by now was standing in the open doorway, listening, Wand said, “I would never have believed it. Anyway, congratulations. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m sure. I’ll be back by the tenth. I’m going to stay in Mexico, Sam. I want you to find as many good assignments as you can covering Central America. Will you do that?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll have something for you by the tenth. What’s wrong with taking some shots of the bride if she’s as good as you say she is? With your name, I could get you a big coverage.”

“No.” Cade couldn’t bear the idea of Juana’s picture decorating the walls of those pin-up addicts whose name is legion. “She’s my own very personal property, Sam, and she is remaining that way.”

“Just an idea,” Wand said hurriedly, aware he had stepped out of turn. “Have a good time. I’ll be in touch with you on the tenth,” and he hung up.

“I want to be your own very personal property,” Juana said, coming to him. “Forever and forever.”

And at that moment, as he held her close to him, he believed her.

The honeymoon was only a partial success. Cade was worried most of the time by the attention Juana received from most of the male American tourists whether accompanied by their wives or not. At every opportunity and with the flimsiest of excuses, they were around her like ants after honey. This amused Juana and irritated Cade. There was no privacy on the crowded beaches; no privacy in the dining room where the American male was constantly pausing at their table for a chat. There was no privacy on the dance floor. The continual cutting-in, leaving Cade without his partner infuriated him. It finally got so bad that he insisted that they should spend most of the day in lounging chairs on their private balcony, and this quickly bored Juana. She began to talk wistfully of her Thunderbird and her home, and finally at the end of ten days, they decided to cut the honeymoon short and return to Mexico City.

Cade discovered that although marriage was a wonderful thing, he wasn’t now as free as he had been. When he wasn’t working, he liked to wander the streets, exploring alone, his eyes searching for new material, interesting faces, new angles, tricky challenges of light. But this wasn’t possible with Juana constantly with him. She disliked walking, and it was difficult to persuade her to leave her Thunderbird at home. Although Cade patiently explained that it was impossible for him to create images for future photography while flashing down the trunk roads at eighty miles an hour, Juana still insisted on using the car.

So five days after their return, Cade decided it was time to begin work again. While Juana was preparing an elaborate lunch, he put a call through to Sam Wand.

“Hi, fella!” Wand shouted when he came on the line. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Did you enjoy yourself?”

Cade said he had enjoyed himself.

“All still roses and turtle doves?”

“Got anything lined up for me?” Cade was in no mood for Wand’s hearty banter. “I’m all set to go.”

“Well, you said the tenth. It’s only the second, but there is a job you might care to do. It’s no great shakes. Three hundred and expenses, but the way things stand, it looks to me you could use a fast three hundred.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Cade demanded.

“You have me worried, Val. I had your bank manager onto me. You’re in the red for four thousand dollars. I told him to sell some of your bonds. He tells me you haven’t any bonds to sell!”

Cade stiffened. He had always been careless with money. At one time he was continually getting into trouble with his bank manager until Wand had suggested he should look after his account.

“The thing to do,” Wand had said, “is to buy a parcel of bonds, and to keep a float of a thousand dollars in your account. When you have used the thousand, you sell a bond, and when you sell a photograph you buy a bond. That way, you’ll keep out of the red and your money will make money. I’ll fix it for you if you like.”

Cade had agreed.

“What the hell’s going on?” Wand demanded. “You had forty thousand dollars worth of bonds about a month ago. Don’t tell me you’ve cashed them?”

Had he? Cade ran his fingertips through his hair. He had got into the habit of scrawling on the back of his cheques: if no funds available, sell bonds. He had never bothered to keep an account of his spending. He knew he had plenty of bonds, so there was no need to bother. Now, a little alarmed, he thought of his recent spending. There was the Thunderbird, the diamond bracelet, the month’s rent in advance for the house, the mink stole he had given Juana, the ten days’ honeymoon at the most expensive hotel — and it was expensive! — in Cozumel. But forty thousand dollars!

“You there?” Wand said impatiently.

“Shut up a minute,” Cade snapped. “I’m trying to think.”

He finally decided that he must have spent forty thousand dollars. The shock made him sweat.

“Listen, Sam, did those people pay for the bull fighting pictures? That was three thousand, wasn’t it?”

“It was, and they paid ten days ago and you’ve spent it,” Wand said. “What’s going on down there for God’s sake?”

“Did you say I was in the red for four thousand?”

“That’s what I said. Now listen...”

“Hold it a moment.” Cade was figuring with pencil and paper. There was the car and motor boat he had hired in Cozumel. There was the skin diving outfits he had bought when he could have hired them. Oh, God yes! There was that silver tea service that Juana had wanted and he had bought it. Who the hell wanted a silver tea service? He should have talked her out of that one! They were never likely to use it. It was just a goddamn status symbol!

“Look, Sam, you’d better sell some stock,” he said. “I’ll need around ten thousand dollars in the bank to take care of the overdraft and to live on. Will you do that?”

“The market is lower than a snake. It’s not the time to sell: it’s the time to buy.”

“It always is when you want money,” Cade said. “Sell something. I want ten thousand.”

“Well, okay. I’ll look through your list and see what I can do.”

“My royalty statement will be through in a couple of months, won’t it?”

“Yeah. At a guess it should be worth eight to ten thousand.”

Cade brightened.

“So what am I worrying about?”

“You tell me,” Wand said. “Now about this job. The Archaeological Museum of Boston wants a new set of pictures of the ruins of Chicken-Itza and Uxmal. I’ll send you all the dope with copies of the old pictures. They want your angles and lighting. How about it?”

“I’ve just got back from Yucatan!”

“That’s not my fault, is it? You didn’t tell me where you were going.”

“Three hundred and expenses?”

“Yeah, but they aren’t paying double fares. So if you want to take your wife, you pay for her. It’s a week’s work, Val.”

“A week’s work for three hundred? To hell with them!”

“Look, Val, be your age. You need this money.”

Cade couldn’t remember Wand ever saying that to him. He didn’t like it. After hesitating, he said, “Well, okay, you have yourself a deal. Cash on delivery?”

“You bet. So long, and put a padlock on that wallet of yours.”

Cade went into the kitchen where Juana was occupied in cutting up red peppers.

“I’ve been talking to Wand,” he said. “There’s a job come up. It’s a nuisance really: means going back to Merida.”

She grimaced.

“Do you have to do it, cariño?”

“Well, it’s a job. Yes, I guess I have to do it.”

“When?”

“At the end of the week.”

“That’s all right. We won’t be long, will we?”

Cade rubbed his jaw.

“I have to do this alone. It’s tricky. I’ll have to concentrate.”

She looked at him, surprised.

“Oh. You mean you don’t want me with you?”

“It’s not that. It’s the way I work. I just have to be alone.” He put his arm around her. “I’ll be away a week. What will you do with yourself?”

“I think it would be better if I came with you. I promise not to be in the way. We’ll have the nights together. Don’t you think it would be better if I came with you?”

Cade hesitated.

“The trouble is they are only paying my expenses,” he said finally.

Her dark eyes became alert.

“I thought you told me we had lots of money.”

“We have, but we don’t have to throw it away. Right now I am a little short, but in a couple of months, my royalty statements will be in, and then we will be fine again.”

“You are spending too much money on me. That’s it isn’t it?”

“Now, look, you do the cooking and leave me to look after our money,” Cade said firmly. “I know what I’m doing. Just be patient and stay right here while I’m away. In two months, we’ll have another vacation.”

The telephone bell rang and relieved, he kissed her and went to answer it.

It was Sam Wand again.

“I’ve checked your holdings,” he said. “You’ll take a thirty per cent loss if you sell now.”

“Like hell! Let’s ask the bank for a loan.”

“Don’t you ever read the papers? There are restrictions on loans right now. You won’t get a loan.”

Cade felt a wave of irritation run through him. He hated having to think about money.

“Okay, okay, what’s a thirty per cent loss among friends? Sell the damn things. I need the money, Sam.”

“You don’t need all that amount. Pay off the overdraft and make do with two thousand until the statements come in.”

“Sell the damn things! I’m not in the mood to make do,” Cade said and hung up.

Now conscious of his present lack of money, Cade became worried by the constant drain on his wallet. Small items that he had never considered became red flashing lights: gasoline for the Thunderbird, the refrigerator had to break down, a bill for a dozen bottles of White Horse he had ordered as a house warming present, a nerve-shattering bill for a pint of perfume called Joy he had been reckless enough to have bought without inquiring the price, a bill from Olmedo for the use of his dark room, a bill for four pairs of shoes he had bought for Juana. For the first time in his life he began jotting down figures, subtracting but never adding, a cold clutch of uneasiness gripping him when he saw how quickly the six thousand dollars he had left after paying off his overdraft was melting away.

Juana drove him to the airport for his plane to Merida. She seemed to have caught his depression for they drove most of the way in silence. As they were nearing the airport, Cade made the effort and said, “Well, what do you plan to do with yourself while I’m away, sweetheart?”

She shrugged.

“I’ll find something. I wish I were coming with you. I shall miss you.”

She pulled up at the Departure entrance.

“I’ll call you every evening,” Cade said. He hated the parting. “Look after yourself.” They kissed. “Don’t wait. You get off. I’ll call tonight around eight.”

On Cade’s second evening at the hotel at Uxmal, he had a telephone call from Creel.

Cade was now wishing he hadn’t been so money conscious as he was missing Juana badly. He found the evenings, after the light had faded and he could no longer work, dull and lonely. The previous evening he had spent over an hour talking to her on the telephone, and he was about to make another call to her this evening when Creel came through.

Impatient to talk to Juana, Cade curtly asked him what he wanted.

“I thought I should tell you, senor, that the magazine with your bull fighting pictures reached Mexico City this morning,” Creel said.

“So what?” Cade looked impatiently at his watch. Juana would be waiting. It was already a few minutes after 20.00 hours.

“They have been badly received, senor. I told you Diaz was a popular hero. His fans think you have shown him in a very bad light. The pictures have been received very badly.”

“What am I supposed to do, Adolfo? Put ashes on my head?”

“I thought I should tell you. This afternoon someone slashed the four tyres of my car. Someone who knows I helped you take these pictures.”

Cade stiffened and frowned.

“I’m sorry about that, Adolfo. Do you know who it was?”

“No, but I can guess. I told you Regino Franoco regards Diaz as a god. I think he did it.”

“Well, I am sorry.” Cade hesitated, then went on, “Buy yourself a new set and send the cheque to me. After all this hasn’t anything to do with you.”

“I wouldn’t expect that. I am just warning you, senor. If he does this thing to me, he might do worse to you. I think he could. You must be on your guard.”

“To hell with that fairy!” Cade said impatiently. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll twist his dirty neck for him! You get those tyres and send me the cheque. I insist.”

“Well, thank you very much, senor, but you must be careful. It is a good thing you are not here. By the time you return, all the fuss will have died down.”

Cade suddenly thought of Juana.

“You don’t think anything could happen to my wife, Adolfo?” There was a sudden tight feeling across his chest and he found himself gripping the telephone receiver unnecessarily hard.

Creel laughed.

“No, senor. This, I can assure you. Senora Cade is perfectly safe because she knows very well how to look after herself. Besides, she is a Mexican and very beautiful.”

Cade relaxed.

“You are sure?”

“I wouldn’t tell you if I were not positive, but you — that is different. Be careful, senor.”

“I too can look after myself, Adolfo, but thanks... I’ll be careful,” and he hung up.

He lit a cigarette, then he called Juana. There was some delay before she answered.

After greeting her, Cade told her what Creel had said.

“It doesn’t worry me, honey, but you being on your own worries me a little.”

“There is nothing to worry about,” Juana said. “But I will speak to Renado. He will know how to deal with this. He will bring that filthy little queer to heel. Think no more about it. How are things with you?”

Cade suddenly became tense. He was almost sure he had heard a man’s voice say something: as if the man was in the room with Juana and had called to her. He felt a rush of blood to his head.

“Cariño? Are you there?”

Cade listened intently. He could hear nothing now except perhaps Juana’s light breathing.

“Cariño?”

“Sorry. Yes, I am doing all right. It’s a dull job, but it’s coming along. Have you anyone with you, Juana?”

“With me? Why, no. What makes you ask such a thing?”

“I thought I heard a man speak to you just now.”

Juana laughed.

“It was the radio. I have just turned it off. I was listening to a play. It wasn’t very interesting.”

Cade drew in a long, deep breath.

“Oh... I thought I heard a voice. What have you been doing with yourself?”

He listened to her harmless recital. Finally, she said, “We must not waste any more of your money. Good night, cariño. I will dream of you.”

Reluctant to lose her company, Cade talked some more, then finally hung up.

As he went downstairs to the restaurant, he realised he was quite lost without her. Several tourists nodded to him, but he was in no mood for their company. He asked the waiter to get him an evening paper, then having chosen his meal, he hid himself behind the paper, reading and eating at the same time. Towards the end of the meal, he came to the radio and TV programmes. Interested to know what play Juana had been listening to, he tried to find it. Only light music and a concert were advertised. There were no plays on the Mexican network that night.

He sat still, staring across the big room, his mind suddenly crawling with alarm and jealousy. He was now sure he had heard a man’s voice. Could she be cheating so soon? He tried to still the rising torment, trying to reassure himself that he could have imagined hearing the voice, but why had she lied about the programme?

Returning to his room, he decided to call Juana. The time was 22.00 hours. He had to wait ten minutes and then the operator told him there was no answer. Angry now, Cade told her to try again. He paced up and down until the operator called him and said there was still no answer.

He asked the girl to keep trying. He felt a sudden urgent need for a drink. He rang the floor waiter and told him to bring a bottle of Tequila, ice and limes and to hurry.

He crossed to the open window and sat down, feeling the hot night air against his sweating face. There had been a man there, he kept telling himself, and now they had gone out together. Maybe they were still in the house, upstairs on the bed, listening with guilt to the ringing of the telephone bell.

A little after midnight, with the bottle of Tequila now half empty, Cade, drunk and coldly angry, asked the operator what was happening. She said she was ringing the number every ten minutes, but there was still no reply.

At 00.45 hours, the bell rang. Cade lurched across the room and snatched up the receiver. The Tequila had partly anaesthetised his mind. He was no longer frantic, but murderously angry.

“Hello?” he heard Juana say. “Yes? Who is it?”

“Where the hell have you been?” Cade shouted.

“Cariño! How lovely! I was only just this minute thinking of you.”

“Where have you been?”

“Been? Oh; have you been trying to get me?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying to get you. Where have you been?”

“Ana looked in. We went to the movies.”

Ana was the girl who had acted as witness for Juana at the wedding: a fat, giggling girl who Cade had disliked.

“Don’t lie! You went out with some man... who is he?”

He heard her catch her breath.

“Have you been drinking, Val?”

“Never mind if I’ve been drinking. Who was the man?”

“There was no man. I went out with Ana. If you don’t believe me, then call her. I will give you her telephone number.”

“I’m coming back. We’ll have this out tomorrow,” Cade said and slammed down the receiver.

With a shaking hand, he splashed two inches of Tequila into his glass and swallowed it at a gulp. For a moment, he stood shuddering, then the glass slipped out of his hand and he flopped face down on the bed.

The following morning, he woke with a splitting headache. He stumbled into the bathroom and washed down four aspirin tablets, then he forced himself under a cold shower. Later, when the ache in his head had subsided and he had drunk three cups of strong coffee, he considered what best to do.

Juana had lied to him. That was an indisputable fact. He had to make her admit her lie and explain why she had lied. To hell with the Museum job! What was three hundred lousy dollars compared to his peace of mind? He would go back and have it out with her.

He packed, paid his check and drove to the airport.

During the flight he wondered a little uneasily what Sam Wand would say about all this. He remembered suddenly that he would now have to pay for the two days stay at the Uxmal hotel and his air fare. That was so much money wasted, he thought bitterly, just when he needed his money.

He found Juana, white faced, with dark smudges under her eyes, waiting for him. She was sitting in the garden. She didn’t get up as he strode across the patio.

“Let’s get at it,” he said curtly, standing over her. “I heard a man speak to you last night. I heard him distinctly over the telephone. You said you were listening to a play on the radio. I checked the programmes. There was no play last night so that makes you a liar!”

She regarded him, her eyes expressionless.

“Then if you think I am a liar, why have you come back?” she asked in a cold, flat voice.

Cade felt a clutch of fear at his heart.

“Come back? What do you mean? I’m your husband! I want an explanation!”

Her direct stare made him lose confidence and his anger became uncertain.

“There is no explanation. Why should there be? I was listening to a play so what have I to explain?”

“There was no play! Now look, Juana, it is no use...”

She got to her feet and faced him. Her eyes now were dark and angry.

“The play was You Can’t Take It With You. It was broadcast on the short wave from New Orleans. Ask Creel to check for you. I think you have been very stupid, very suspicious and very unkind. I don’t love a man like that!”

She walked quickly into the house and he heard a door slam.

Sick with fear that he had gone too far and had lost her, Cade ran after her, frantically calling her name.