The Cassandra Sanction

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The inn’s dining room was a more recent add-on to the ancient building, housed in a conservatory overlooking the little garden that was visible from Raul’s window above. Except that now it was dark outside, and all that could be seen in the glass were the reflections of the few diners scattered about the little restaurant’s mostly empty tables.

Ben automatically scanned each face and assessed the threat. He wasn’t going to be caught out the way he had been in Frigiliana. A solitary middle-aged man in a wrinkled suit who looked like a stressed-out salesman or low-flying business executive stopping over for the night on his way somewhere bigger and more important: threat level, zero. A young couple, maybe newly-weds, all rapt and dewy-eyed with adoration for one another. Threat level, ditto.

Ben relaxed, smelled the cooking aromas wafting through from the kitchen and realised how hungry he was. When the waitress appeared, he ordered the biggest sirloin steak on the menu and a bottle of red wine. Raul opted for grilled fish in a butter and parsley sauce, and a glass of good Riesling.

‘Just a glass?’ Ben said.

‘I don’t like to drink too much.’

‘If you were always this sober, I would never have got to know you,’ Ben said.

‘Anyway, it’s too expensive by the bottle.’

‘We’re not paying,’ Ben said, patting his pocket where the roll of cash nestled. ‘Like the rooms, this meal is all on our generous departed acquaintances. Spoils of war.’

Raul frowned. ‘Thanks. I was trying to forget about today, and now you have to remind me about this nightmare. Maybe you’re right. One glass of wine isn’t enough.’

‘You can always have some of my red,’ Ben said.

‘It wouldn’t be appropriate, not with fish.’

‘That’s the difference between you and me,’ Ben said. ‘If I want to drink, I’ll drink. If I don’t, then I don’t.’

‘You don’t worry about much, do you?’ Raul said.

‘Not those kinds of things,’ Ben said.

‘What about the kinds of things we did today?’

‘I don’t worry about those, either,’ Ben said. ‘You do what you have to do. Then you forget it and move on with a clear conscience.’

‘You’ve done it a lot, haven’t you?’

Ben looked at Raul. Anyone listening in to this conversation would have found it very odd indeed.

‘I’ve done my fair share. More than some, less than others.’

‘And that’s okay with you?’ Raul asked.

Ben shrugged. ‘There have been times when it wasn’t okay. Times when I was under orders to do things I didn’t agree with. But other times, it was plenty okay. Today being one of them. Today was one of those days when I wouldn’t think twice.’

‘It seems so simple to you.’

‘Some things in life are,’ Ben said.

‘Not for me. I’m just a teacher. I live in a different world from yours.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Ben said. ‘We all live in exactly the same world, because we’re all human beings, and the human condition we created for ourselves is fundamentally a cruel, violent and brutal state of affairs that shapes the world accordingly. Some of us are used to dealing with the reality of that. While others hide behind the veil, insulate themselves from reality and try very hard to fool themselves with high ideas about civilisation and progress in the kind of safe, cosy modern society they want to believe protects them from all the bad and dark things they’d rather not think about. I don’t blame them, in principle. But now and then they get a peek through the veil, like you did today, and it’s a shock to the system. More than most people can handle. All you can do is keep telling yourself that you came through it. You survived. You get to move on to the next stage. Which is to find your sister. Or die trying.’

Raul sighed. ‘Damn it. I am going to get drunk.’

‘No, you’re not,’ Ben said. ‘You’re doing a pretty good job of holding it together so far, and you’re going to keep it that way. Suck it up. Deal with it. We’re going to find Catalina.’

‘Thank you,’ Raul said after a beat, looking straight into Ben’s eyes.

‘For what?’

‘For sticking with me. For being here.’

Ben shrugged. ‘What else have I got to do?’

The food arrived, and Ben stopped talking and occupied himself with eating and drinking. The steak was tender and rare in the middle and served with green salad and sautéed potatoes. The wine was a three-year-old Côtes du Rhône called Plan de Dieu. God’s Plan. After studying theology on and off for half his life Ben still had no idea what God’s plan was. His own was simply to polish off the rest of this excellent food and then get on with the task in hand. Which was to get back up to his room and lay out Catalina Fuentes’ stuff and try to figure out exactly what the hell she’d got herself mixed up in. He’d devoured most of the steak and nearly half the wine when he looked up and saw that Raul was sitting staring at an untouched plate.

‘I don’t think I can eat.’

‘Force yourself,’ Ben said. ‘I can’t have you running on empty. You and I have work to do.’

Ben finished his wine while Raul picked at the fish. By the end of the bottle Ben still wasn’t any the wiser about God’s plan, but the muscular tension in his neck and shoulders had unknotted itself, and he felt mentally loose enough for what promised to be a long session of combing for whatever clues it might be possible to unearth when neither of them had the first idea what they were looking for.

The night was still young, just before nine o’clock. Ben paid the bill from the roll of notes. Then they left the dining room and returned upstairs.