Tango (29 page)

‘That’s it, that’s the one. The colonel in Carlos’s old regiment.’

They went over. The tall colonel was about to be affronted by the interruption but, realising who they were, changed his manner.

‘
No ahora, señora
, you must wait. I have important business. I shall return.’ He closed the door on the woman.

‘We are friends of Carlos,’ said Box in careful Spanish.

‘Of course, we have met. The undertaker and the interpreter.
Saludos, señores
. You have no body this evening?’

The colonel laughed. They all shook hands.

‘We bring orders from the president,’ continued Box. ‘
Donde –?
’ He turned to William. ‘You’d better ask. Not sure my Spanish is up to
it.’

‘Where are your men?’

The colonel held up his hands. ‘They are no longer here,
señor
.’ His accent was a northern one; he spoke as if translating from his own dialect.

‘Where are they?’

‘They were tired of waiting and they have gone.’

‘Where?’

The colonel slapped the gloves he was holding against his thigh. ‘
Señores
, I am told to come and wait here. I do not know for how long or for what. I am told a man from the
president will come to tell me what to do but I do not know which man until now. It is the holiday. Everyone has holiday, even the president, but not us. I am told I cannot tell my soldiers what we
are here for. They want to know why they must work on the holiday. I cannot tell them. And so they wish to have a drink. Naturally, I do not stop them.’ He stared as if boasting of an
achievement.

‘Tell him,’ said Box.

‘The president wishes us to arrest members of his government. He wishes to be saved from them. But it has to be done quickly and secretly before the security police find out.’

The colonel’s eyes widened. ‘This is the counter-revolution?’

‘Yes.’

The colonel straightened himself. ‘
Señores
, I am honoured to take part. My children and my grandchildren will honour me. I lay down my life for the president.’ They
all shook hands again.

‘Where are your soldiers?’

‘It is not a problem,
señores.
It is near here. There is a tango club. It is the only place that is open. I will show you.’

Two army lorries were now parked near the club, behind the four Mercedes. Inside, the larger of the bars was packed by soldiers, their weapons slung over their shoulders, glasses and cigarettes
in their hands. Of the few other customers who had earlier crept in there was now no sign.

El Lizard came out of the bar. ‘
Señor
Wooding, it is not possible. These soldiers, they want women. I tell them the girls are busy but they are not satisfied. They wish to
interrupt. I tell them they must wait their turn, but they will not wait. I cannot tell them who is with the girls, so I have to give them drinks and promise there will be girls, otherwise they
break the furniture. They have guns.
Señor
, you can control them, please?’

‘We will see to it. The colonel here will see to it.’

El Lizard looked at the colonel. ‘Normally we have more girls, but today with the holiday’ – his forehead wrinkled, his face grew longer and he raised his hands, palms upward
– ‘I have sent for some but it takes a little time. The soldiers are impatient.’

‘The girls are coming here?’ asked the colonel.

‘In time,
señor
, in time. Please be calm.’

‘If they come here, my soldiers will not leave.’

William translated for Box, who nodded. ‘Tell the troops you will be sending the new girls to the palace where the prisoners are to be taken.’

The colonel agreed. El Lizard was relieved but puzzled. ‘The palace? They will not be the best girls, these who are coming. Normally for the palace I would want the best girls, the ones
upstairs. But the best ones are wasted on soldiers, so perhaps it is good.’

William told him the colonel would provide a lorry for the girls. Meanwhile, the colonel had brought the soldiers here for a purpose: he had been ordered to make some arrests. El Lizard was
appalled – the club would be ruined, his staff and his girls were dear to him, his reputation would be destroyed. The president himself would be embarrassed.

William said that the colonel and his men were acting on the orders of the president. The club would be famous and for ever patronised by the best people for the best reasons. No members of
staff would be involved.

El Lizard took one of William’s hands in both of his. He was almost tearful. ‘
Gracias, muchas gracias.
I will bring you a special drink.’

The colonel was confident that his men would leave the bar provided they were told they would have the girls at the palace afterwards. It wouldn’t matter that they were not the same girls
– the soldiers wouldn’t notice by then – or that the soldiers recognised the men they were arresting. They were democratic, they didn’t care who they arrested. In any case,
their loyalty was to the president, not to these jumped-up generals and traitors who made alliances with communists, while all the time feathering their own nests and promoting only their relatives
and friends and ingratiating themselves with Herrera and his Russians and Cubans.

Box held up his hand. ‘The president blesses you. He will thank you, your relatives and your friends many times.’

The colonel saluted. ‘To battle,
señores.
’

Box took the salute. ‘To battle.’

They mounted the wide wooden staircase, William and Box side by side and in step.

‘I’m finding it difficult to take this seriously,’ said William.

Box nodded like a doctor who was hearing what he knew only too well. ‘Same with everything when you think about it. All your normal daily business. Look at any bit of it closely enough and
it soon becomes unreal and impossible to take seriously. The difference with our work is that it confronts you with the fact instead of covering it with habit so you never notice.’

‘Do you often think like this?’

‘Not often, there’s no point.’ They had reached the second set of stairs. ‘Up you go. I’ll look after the colonel and his merry men and make sure they come up
quietly.’

The upstairs corridor was quiet. There was water running, but not as much as before. William listened at two of the doors and heard nothing apart from the air-conditioners. He opened his own
door cautiously, and stared at the part of the floor where he had been with Theresa on the lilo. Those few minutes now seemed as unreal as everything else. He walked back to the top of the stairs
and gave the signal.

There was murmuring and muffled heavy footsteps. Box came first and then the colonel, bristling and eager. The soldiers, their broad shoulders encumbered by weapons and webbing, barely fitted
the narrow staircase. They smelled of alcohol.

The party assembled at the end of the corridor. The floorboards creaked. There were three soldiers to a prisoner, Box whispered, and a camera to each group. Two men would escort the prisoner,
the third would photograph him and then carry his belongings. William was to point out which rooms they were to enter and the colonel would see to the rest. The president was to stay in his room
throughout.

William showed them the rooms. He felt almost as if he were opening a country house one day a year for the villagers.

‘Are the rooms locked?’

‘One isn’t, the others may be.’

‘Do you know who’s in which?’

‘No.’

‘Right. Ask the colonel to get the men to fall in outside each door.’

The soldiers were detailed off, their weapons unslung and at the ready. One or two eased off the safety catches.

‘Tell them there should be no need to do any shooting,’ William said to the colonel. The colonel told them. They fixed bayonets. ‘It should be enough just to show the
bayonets,’ added William. ‘They won’t have to use them.’

The colonel smiled proudly. ‘Our soldiers are very fond of the bayonet. For them it is a symbol.’

Box turned to William. ‘I’ll give the signal when you’re ready.’

‘Well, okay, I’m ready.’

Box nodded to the colonel. ‘Right.’

The colonel stood to attention, drew his sword and held it aloft. All the men looked at it. He held his pose for some seconds, the point quivering.

‘Tell him to get on with it,’ Box whispered.

The colonel brought down his sword as if starting a race.

Two of the doors opened at the first attempt, the third was locked but yielded to a hefty shoulder. William, Box and the colonel were left in the corridor. The colonel held his sword as if to
stab at escapees. Nothing happened. There were no shouts and no sounds of struggle.

‘May as well have a butchers,’ said Box.

William followed him. A fat naked man with white hair was lying on his back, his arms outstretched. He had a white moustache and his face was red and staring. The mirror above him made him look
like a beached whale. Sitting on the bed beside him and also naked was the slim girl who had been one of the dancers. Two of the soldiers were pointing their guns at the couple while the third took
photographs. No one spoke.

‘Tell them to get a move on,’ said Box.

William’s Spanish was not up to military commands, so he simply told them to proceed. One of the soldiers made a move towards the bed. William looked at the fat man whom he thought he
recognised as Paulotti, Chief of the Police. ‘You must go with the soldiers,’ he said to him. ‘You have been arrested.’

Paulotti sat up with difficulty. ‘Who is arresting me? Who has ordered this? I cannot be arrested.’

‘The president has ordered it. You are arrested.’

William’s Spanish was more stilted than usual. He turned to the soldiers. ‘Go. Continue. Arrest him.’

Paulotti became angry. He got clumsily to his feet, his thighs and buttocks wobbling. William hated to watch because he thought that was how he himself might appear. Paulotti turned to the
soldiers. ‘You are arresting me? You have no power. I will have you shot. Who ordered this? Who are these foreigners? Get out of my room!’

The soldiers hesitated, looking at William and Box. William stepped back to the door to call the colonel but couldn’t see him. He tried to think of some confident-sounding reply but his
Spanish had gone to pieces. When he looked back he saw Box step purposefully forward. The girl rolled out of the way. Paulotti stared like an affronted walrus. Box stepped on to the bed beside him
and with one swift movement hit him on the buttock with his rolled newspaper.

‘Out!’ he shouted, pointing with his other hand at the door. ‘Under arrest! Move, move, move! Run, run, run!’

With each word he struck at Paulotti’s buttocks. Paulotti jumped and nearly fell, uttering small affronted squeals. He tried to grab the newspaper but missed and Box brought it down with a
final resounding slap. ‘
Out!
’

One of the soldiers grabbed Paulotti by the arm, another moved to push him off the bed. Once they felt struggling flesh, they regained their momentum. By the time Paulotti had been hustled to
the door he was cowed and looked shocked again. The third soldier began to follow.

‘Tell him to bring the clothes,’ said Box.

The soldier gathered them, taking his time to look at the girl who was wrapping herself in a towel.

‘
Rapido!
Quick!’ Box shouted at him. The soldier gathered up the remainder of the clothing and left.

The corridor was filled with soldiers again. Quinto, the other general, was there with one naked girl and one wearing a towel. There was a dangerous air of hesitancy and aimlessness. The colonel
was not to be seen. Something seemed to be happening in the third room which William assumed to be occupied by Ines and Manuel.

‘Tell them to get moving,’ said Box. ‘Take the prisoners downstairs to the lorries and wait for the colonel. Make sure they leave the girls alone. Where’s number
three?’ He went towards Manuel’s room.

William’s Spanish was returning. Raising his voice gave him confidence. The soldiers and prisoners eddied around the stairs. William went to the group still in the doorway of
Manuel’s room. Inside he saw Ines, naked and expostulating, her pendulous breasts shaking. She was arguing with the colonel, who stood with his sword pointing at Ricardo’s naked
stomach. Ricardo was also arguing. Box stood to one side of them, looking puzzled.

He was the first to see William. ‘You’d better come and sort this out. Seems to be a bit of confusion.’

The contrast between Ines’s enveloping proportions and Ricardo’s slim litheness was transfixing. William tried not to dwell upon either and eventually focused on the colonel’s
sword.

They greeted him as a saviour and competed in rapid explanations. He had to ask them to slow down.

‘He is trying to arrest us,’ said Ines, pointing at the colonel. ‘He says we are communists and that Manuel Herrera is here. Where, where? I ask him. In the lilo? Down the
plug-hole? There is no one here. He says he will castrate Ricardo.’

Ricardo stared in wide-eyed appeal. ‘He talks like a madman. Take his sword away. If he touches me I will kill his family.’

William held up his hand to the colonel. ‘He doesn’t want you,’ he told Ricardo. ‘He thought Manuel Herrera was in here, that’s all. That’s what we all
thought.’

‘Is this the counter-revolution?’

‘I suppose it is, yes.’

Ricardo opened his arms. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you. I could have told you that you would never catch Herrera here with Ines. Never in his life. He would not
touch her.’

Everyone looked at Ines, who stood with her legs apart and her hands on her hips. She nodded. ‘Herrera is homosexual. He doesn’t want women. I discovered today, this afternoon. I
thought he didn’t like me but it was not that. Ricardo told me.’

The colonel lowered his sword. ‘The army will hate him even more for this.’

‘Where is he now?’ William asked Ricardo.

‘He is with his driver. I saw them go together. His driver is his boyfriend. Once when I was going to meet Manuel – you know, when he wanted to talk to me – I was early and I
saw them doing it.’