A Dangerous Game (3 page)

imagine him as a young man.
 
I can't imagine him as anywhere else

except sitting in this boring office, with its cream walls, government

issue furniture and framed print of the Queen on the wall.

The major smiled at her across his desk.

"Good of you to come, Dr.
 
Muldaire."
 
He paused.

"Actually, I wasn't sure you would."

She shrugged.

"I'm curious.
 
Why me?
 
It's two years since I worked for you.
 
And I

seem to remember telling you when I left that I wanted to make a new

life for myself.
 
A quiet life so that I could pursue my profession."

"You did," he agreed.

"And I respected your choice."
 
He leaned back, linked his fingers

together and looked at her benignly.

"Are you enjoying yourself as an over-worked and underpaid factotum in

the Midland General?"

"I get job satisfaction," she said.

"I'm sure you do."
 
Another pause.

"Dr.
 
Anton O'Rhiann is a good-looking young fellow, I'm told.
 
And a

combination of Irishman and Frenchman must make for some interesting

evenings."

She knew Major Fairhaven far too well to be angry.
 
Instead she

laughed.

"I'm not impressed.
 
Any junior nurse could have told you that much.

Just tell me why you called me, after all this time."

He leaned back in his chair.

"Ever heard of Techtatuan?

"No."

"Not many people have," he admitted.

"It's in Guachtal, in central South America."
 
He handed her several

sheets of paper.

"Read this."

She read fast, then looked up.

"Lots of rain forest, a few villages, and one major town.
 
The original

native people are of Inca descent, the ruling classes are Spanish,

descended from the Conquistadors.
 
They field a good polo team, host

the occasional second-rate film festival, and probably throw lavish

parties and get riotously drunk on the local vino."
 
She scanned the

second page.

"And the economy is crooked.
 
Well, that is a surprise.
 
Nazi gold

deposited when the SS generals began to lose faith in the Thousand Year

Reich, some money-laundering and a nice line in business addresses for

tax evaders."
 
She looked up at the major.

"And no free elections, of course.
 
So who's the boss in Guachtal?"

The major slid a photograph across his desk.
 
Jacey saw a tubby man

wearing a bemedalled uniform and a broad smile.
 
He was holding both

arms in the air in a victory salute, and was flanked by armed

soldiers.

"That's Generalissimo Hernandez," the major said.
 
He smiled briefly.

"With his bodyguard."

"A bully boy?"
 
Jacey guessed.

"Surprisingly enough," Fairhaven said, "Hernandez is quite popular.
 
He

has a good military record and the army is solidly behind him.
 
Some of

those medals are genuine too, although they were won when he was a

young man.
 
I gather he was the kind of soldier who was too stupid to

recognise danger when it was staring him in the face.
 
But the fact

remains, he won the gongs, and lots of people think he's some kind of

war hero."

"And a financial genius too?"
 
Jacey was sceptical.

"No."
 
The major grinned faintly.

"But this gentleman is."
 
He tapped the photograph again and Jacey

noticed the group of civilians behind Hernandez.

"Senor Nicolas Schlemann.
 
A very clever fellow.
 
He's quite happy to

let Hernandez parade around in front of the crowds, but he controls the

purse-strings, and that makes him the real power behind the throne."

The civilian faces were out of focus.
 
Nicolas Schlemann looked like a

blurred shadow.
 
Jacey could make out dark hair and a dark suit but

that was all.

"A German?"
 
she asked.

"German father," Major Fairhaven said.

"Spanish mother.
 
His father arrived in Guachtal in 1945, and by the

early 1960s he'd doubled the illegal fortune he brought with him.

Nicolas has probably trebled it since."

Jacey glanced at the anonymous face again.
 
How old would this man

be?

Thirty?
 
Thirty-five?
 
You couldn't tell from that smudgy,

black-and-white image.
 
A crooked wheeler-dealer who kept a smalltime

dictator in power.
 
She didn't think she would like Senor Nicolas

Schlemann.

"And he knows how to spend as well as save," Fairhaven added.

"Wine, women and song?"
 
she asked.
 
Her voice was cool.

"Women, women and women," the major asserted.

A dissolute WOMANISER, too?
 
Nicolas Schlemann went even further down

in her estimation.
 
She pushed the photograph back towards the major.

She was beginning to understand why he had called her.
 
But do I want

this?
 
she asked herself.
 
I need to get away but is this the answer?

"When I worked for you I was part of a team," she said.

"We trusted each other.
 
This would be different.
 
I don't think' "Wait

a minute," Major Fairhaven interrupted gently.

"This isn't anything like last time."
 
He smiled at her.

"The hospital at Techtatuan needs a doctor, preferably one who speaks

Spanish and English.
 
It's all above board.
 
You can even use your own

name."
 
His smile was warmer now.

"They call it La Primavera because it was built in the spring, and it's

supposed to be symbolic of new growth, a new beginning.
 
It's a

beautiful place, so I'm told, and I don't think your duties would be

too arduous.
 
You'd have plenty of time to enjoy yourself and to

socialise."

"Oh, come on," she said, with undisguised sarcasm.

"You're beginning to sound like a tour operator.
 
If you're not

planning to remove the crooks who've running Guachtal, why do you want

me to go out there?"

"At the moment we need a barometer," Major Fairhaven said.

"One that we can trust.
 
We want you to talk to people.
 
Listen to the

gossip.
 
And then send us the occasional, er, weather report, so to

speak."

She smiled.

"Now you're making sense.
 
You're expecting storms in Guachtal?"

"Let's just say we want to know which way the winds will be blowing in

the near future," the major said.

"South America is opening up.

They're cutting roads through the jungle right now.
 
Guachtal's main

resource is the rain forest.
 
They haven't done much with it yet but

that could change quite soon."

"They could start destroying it, you mean?"
 
Jacey said.

The major smiled.

"You're not turning eco-warrior on me, are you?"

"It seems a shame to destroy something irreplaceable."

The major shrugged.

"If your country was in debt, and the people starving, you might not

feel so sentimental about a few trees.
 
But that's also what we want

you to find out.
 
How do the people of Guachtal see their future?"
 
He

linked his fingers and leant forward.

"Or to put it more accurately, how does Hernandez and his clever friend

Schlemann see it?
 
It would give us a chance to make our own plans." He

smiled.

"An occasional report, that's all we need."

"And if I say yes," she said, 'what about my job at the hospital?
 
I

can't just walk out."

"If you say yes," the major said, 'we'll organise a replacement for

you, don't worry."

She gave him a long, hard stare.

"I bet you've got someone lined up already."

The major laughed.

"It's a nice assignment," he said.

"More like a holiday."

"When do you want my decision?"

He shrugged, still smiling.

"Go home and think about it.
 
Let me know by the end of the week."

After Jacey had left.
 
Major Fairhaven picked up the phone and dialled

an internal number.
 
He listened for a moment and then said

pleasantly:

"Oh, she'll go.
 
Yes, I'm sure of it."
 
He paused, listening again.

"Oh no, nothing they do in Techtatuan could shock Dr.
 
Muldaire.
 
She's

a very liberated lady.
 
And the perfect choice for this assignment.
 
Of

course, she doesn't realise exactly how perfect she is."

On the plane Jacey felt ashamed that she had been such a coward.
 
She

had posted a letter to Anton, telling him that she hated tearful

goodbyes.
 
By the time he read the letter she would be on the way to a

new job in South America.
 
She reminded him that she had never been