The Evening News (57 page)

Partridge said doubtfully, "Is all that true
?
”

Gemma only smiled, though
later research showed him she was right and that the switch to freemen
happened in A.D. 6
subsequently
, when the United Nations held a Freedom
Symposium in Rome, which Partridge covered, he adroitly slipped the
ancient fire brigade story into his CBA News script
.
On another occasion: "The Sistine Chapel, Harry, where new popes are
chosen, was named after Pope Sixtus IV He licensed brothels in Rome and
had sons, one by his own sister. He made three of his sons cardinals
.”

An
d
"Our famous Spanish Steps, Scala di Spagna, have a wrongful name
.
They ought to be Scala di Francia. The French suggested the steps, a
Frenchman left the money for them in his will. The Spanish
Embassy
-just happened to be there. Spain had nothing, nothing
,
Harry, to do with those steps at all
.”
When work and time permitted, Partridge and Gemma journeyed farther
afield to Florence, Venice and Pisa. It was while returning
from Florence
by train that Gemma appeared pale and excused herself several times to
enter the toilet. When Partridge expressed concern, she dismissed it as
unimportant
.”
I probably ate something I should not. Do not worry
.”
In Rome, away from the train, Gemma seemed her normal self and next day
Partridge went as usual to the CBA bureau. In the evening, however, when
he returned home he was surprised to find an extra small plate at his
dinner place and, on it, the keys of Gemma's Alfa Romeo. R%en he asked
about them, Gemma, a small smile on her
face, answered, "A promise isfor
keeping
.”
For a moment he was puzzled, then with a surge of love and a shout of
joy, he remembered her statement, "As soon as I am pregnant I will not
drive a car
.”
Gemma had tears of happiness in her eyes as they kissed and held each
other tightly.

One week later Partridge received word
from CBA News that he would no
longer be Rome correspondent and was being given a more important
assignment--as senior correspondent in London
.
His immediate reaction was to wonder how Gemma would feel about the
change. He need not have been concerned
.”
It is wondrous news, Harry caro
,”
she told him
.”
I adore London. I
flew
there with Alitalia. We will make a good life there together
.”

"We're here, Mr. Partridge
.”

Partridge, who had closed his eyes in the CBA car-momentarily, as he
thought--opened them to discover they had reached Manhattan and were on
Forty-eighth Street outside the
Inter-Continental Hotel. He thanked the driver, said good night, then went inside
.
In the elevator on the way to his room he realized it was now
Monday-the beginning of what was likely to be a crucial week.

Jessica was trying desperately to hold on to awareness, to keep her mind functioning and to understand what was going on around her, but mostly she was not succeeding. She would have moments of clarity in which she could see other people and feel her own body-its pain and discomfort, nausea, an acute thirst. Yet even while this was happening, panic possessed her wit
h one dominating thought: Nicky!
"
Wh
ere was he? "
Wh
at had happened? Then abruptly everything would ebb away, becoming a swirling, misty montage in which she could grasp nothing mentally, not even who she was. During such lapses she seemed engulfed by some sluggish, opaque liquid
.
Somehow, even while teetering in and out of consciousness, she managed
to hold on to memories of what she had briefly perceived. She knew that
something which had been connected to her arm was now removed and in its
place was a throbbing ache. She was aware of being helped from some
resting place, then partly walked and partly carried to wherever she was
now seated, which seemed-again in moments of awareness-to be a flat
surface. There was something solid-she wasn't sure what -behind her back
.
In between such thoughts, as fright and panic returned, she tried to tell
herself what she knew to be important: Keep control
One thing she was clear about was the sudden sight, and now the memory
,
of a man. The image of him was sharp and strong. He was tall and partly
bald, held himself straight, and
looked as if he had authority. It was that impression of authority which made her attempt to speak to him, to plead for help. She knew he had been startled by her voice; that response was also precisely etched, though the reality of the man had disappeared. But did her plea get through? Would he return to help? . . . Oh god
!
Who knew?
Now . . . once more awareness had swirled in. There was another man, this
time leaning over her . . . Wai
t.
She had seen this one before, recognized
his cadaverous face . . . Yes
!
Just minutes ago, while she was
desperately fighting with some kind of knife, she had slashed his face
,
seen blood spurt out . . . But why wasn't he bleeding now? How was it
that his face was bandaged?
In Jessica's mind her long interval of unconsciousness did not exist
.
.
.
She reasoned: This man was an enemy. Now she remembered: He had done
something to Nicky. Oh, how she hated him/ . . . Wild anger sent
adrenaline pumping, brought back movement to her limbs. She reached up
,
seized the adhesive bandage and pulled it off. Then, following through
,
her nails raked flesh and scab
.
With a startled cry, Baudelio leaped back. Putting a hand to his cheek
,
it came away red with blood . . . That goddamn woman
!
She had messed up
his face again. Instinctively he had been thinking like a doctor, and of
her as a patient, but not now! Enraged, he clenched a fist, leaned
forward and hit her hard
.
An instant later, for clinical reasons, he regretted having done it. He
had wanted to see how far all three captives were advanced in
consciousness-up to this point they had come out of sedation
satisfactorily and their pulses and breathing were okay. The woman had
seemed a little ahead of the others. He thought ruefully: She had just
proved it
.
They would all suffer after
effects, of course-from his anesthesiology
experience he knew them well. There would be a sense of confusion
probably followed by depression, some numbness, a severe headache, almost
certainly nausea. The general effect would be much like a drunkard's
hangover. They
s
hould all be given water soon; he would attend to that. No food, though-at least not until they had reached their next destination. Hell camp, Baudelio thought
.
Socorro appeared beside him and he told her about the need for water. She
nodded and went out to see what she could find. Paradoxically, as Baudelio
knew, in this sparsely inhabited, damp jungle, drinking water was a
problem. Rivers and streams, though plentiful, were fouled by
chemicals-sulfuric acid, kerosene and other by-products used by drug
dealers in transforming coca leaves into
coca paste, the substance of co
caine. As well, there were dangers of malaria and typhoid, so that even
impoverished peasants drank soft drinks, beer and, when possible, boiled
water
.
Miguel had entered the hut in time to see the incident involving Jessica
and Baudelio and hear the latter's instruction to Socorro. He called after
her, "And get something to tic these scumbags' hands, then do it-behind
their backs
.”

Turning to Baudelio, Miguel ordered, "Get the prisoners ready to move
.
First we go by truck. After that, everyone will walk
.”

Jessica, now only feigning unconsciousness, heard it all
.
In hitting her, Baudelio had actually done a favor. The blow's jolting
effect had brought her borderline awareness suddenly into focus. She now
knew who she was and memory was returning. But instinct cautioned her to
keep that knowledge, for the moment, to herself
.
She knew she had been frightened and panicked a few minutes ago, but now
must try to keep her thinking orderly. First: Where was she? How had she
got here?
Answers accumulated . . . Everything was coming back.
The Grand Union
supermarket and the report conveyed to her about Crawford and an
accident-obviously a lie. Then in the parking lot, the brutal seizure of
herself, Nicky and . .
.
Nicky
! Had he b
een harmed? Where was he now?
Still striving to maintain control, she remembered glimpsing Nicky briefly
on some kind of bed, tied down . . . and so was Angus. Oh, poor Angus
!
She'd seen them while she struggled with the man and cut his face . . . Was
she still in that
same place? She didn't think so. More important, was Nicky with her? Barely opening her eyes, keeping her head low, she shifted to look. Oh, thank god
!
Nicky was right alongside
!
His eyes were opening and closing; he was yawning
.
And Angus? Yes
!
Angus was beyond Nicky, eyes closed, but she could see
that he was breathing
.
Which raised the question: Why had the three of them been taken? She
decided the answer to that would have to be postponed
.
More immediately: "ere were they? Jessica's quick glimpses of this place
had shown her a small semi
darkened room, windowless and lit by an oil
lantern. Why no electricity? She and the other two were seated on what
felt like a dirt floor and she thought she could feel insects, though she
tried not to think about them. It was incredibly hot and sticky here
,
which puzzled her since September this year had been unusually cool and
no change was forecast
.
So . . . because this was a different place from where Nicky and Angus
had been tied down, how had they got here? Had she been drugged? The
thought caused her to recall something else: the pad over her nose and
mouth after she had been pulled into the van on the Grand Union parking
lot
.
She remembered nothing more that happened in the van; therefore she had
been drugged, probably the
other two as well. For how long
. Half an hour
,
she estimated-an hour at the most. The memory of the skirmish on the
parking lot was too close for it to be more
.
So the likelihood was, they were still not far from Larchmont, which
meant somewhere in New York State, New Jersey or Connecticut. Jessica
considered Massachusetts and Pennsylvania, then dismissed them. Both were
too far away . . . Voices interrupted . .
.”
The bitch is faking
,”
Miguel said
.”
I know
,”
Baudelio replied
.”
She's fully conscious and thinks she's
cunning. She's been listening to what we're saying.,
,
Miguel extended his right shoe and shoved it hard into Jessica's ribs
.”
On your feet, bitch! We have places to go
.”

The shoe made her wince and because there seemed no advantage in
pretending, Jessica lifted her head and opened her eyes. She recognized
both men looking down at her-the one whose face she had cut, the other
whom she had caught sight of briefly in the van. Her mouth was dry and
her voice raspy, but she managed to say, "You'll be sorry for this
.
You'll be caught. Punished
.”