"Jack Johnson," he said in a hard Australian twang. "Not that I'm any bloody punch-up artist like the black fella."
I held up the brandy bottle, he nodded and I reached for another glass. "That your Rapide up on the field?"
"That's it, sport, Johnson Air Transport. Sound pretty good, eh?"
"Sounds bloody marvelous," I said and stuck out my hand. "Neil Mallory."
"Well, I'll come clean. That Rapide is Johnson Air Trans-port." He frowned suddenly. "Mallory? Say, are you the bloke who's been flying that old Bristol for the Baron?"
"The Baron?" I said.
"Sam Hannah, the Black Baron. That's what we used to call him at the Front during the war. I was out there with the R.F,C."
"You knew him well?"
"Hell, everybody knew the Black Baron. He was hot stuff. One of the best there was."
So it was all true, every damned word and I had been con-vinced he had told me some private fantasy of long ago, a tissue of half-truths and exaggerations.
"But that was in another country, as they say," Johnson went on. "Poor old Sam's been on the long slide to nowhere ever since. By God, his luck certainly turned when you came along. You saved his bacon and no mistake. I hope he's paying you right?"
"The boot was on the other foot," I said. "If he hadn't taken me on when he did, I'd have ended up on the labour gang. He already had another pilot lined when I arrived."
It was difficult to come to terms with that face of his.There was no way of knowing what was going on behind the mask. There was just that hard Australian voice. In other words, he gave nothing away and to this day I am still not certain whether what happened was by accident or design.
He said, "What other pilot? What are you talking about?"
"Portuguese, I think. I don't know his name. I believe he'd been flying for a mining company in Venezuela which went bust."
"First I've heard of it and pilots are like gold on the Amazon these days, what with the Spanish war and all this trouble coming up in Europe. You must have seemed like manna from heaven to poor old Sam dropping in like that after all those bad breaks he had. But he sure ran it close. A week left to get a second plane airborne and Charlie Wilson waiting to fly up from Belem and take over his government contract"
"Charlie Wilson?" I said.
"Haven't you met Charlie?" He helped himself to another brandy. "Nice bloke - Canadian - works the lower end of the river out of Belem with three Rapides. Sell his sister if he had to. Mind you I always thought Sam would come up with some-thing. Nobody in his right mind is going to let twenty thousand dollars slip through his fingers that easily."
It was all turning over inside me now, currents pulling every which-way, explanations for some irrational things which had never made any sense rising to the surface.
"Twenty thousand dollars?" I said carefully.
"Sure, hisbonus."
"I hadn't realised it was as much as that."
"I should know. I bid for the contract myself originally then my partner went West in our other plane so that was that. I've been free-lancing since then in the middle section of the river operating from Colona about four hundred miles from here. I don't get into Manaus often."
He went on talking, but I didn't hear for I had other things on my mind. I went round the counter, picked up my canvas grip and moved to the door.
"See you around, sport," Johnson called.
I suppose I made some sort of answer, but I can't be certain 'for I was too busy reliving that first night in minutest detail. My meeting with Hannah, events atThe Little Boat, Maria of the Angels and what had happened later.
For the first time, or at least for the first time consciously, it occurred to me that, to use one of Hannah's favourite phrases, I had been taken.
Strange how the body reacts according to circumstances. Sleep was the least of my requirements now. What I needed were answers and it seemed a reasonable assumption that I might get them at the place where it had all started.
I had a cold bath, mainly to sharpen myself up for it had occurred to me that I might well need my wits about me be-fore the night was over. Then I dressed in my linen suit, creased as it was from packing, slipped the.45 automatic in one pocket, a handful of cartridges in the other and left.
It was eight o'clock when I reachedThe Little Boat, early by their standards and there wasn't much happening. I wanted one person, Hannah's old girl-friend, Lola of the red satin dress, and she was not there. Would not be in until nine-thirty at the earliest according to the barman.
I steeled myself to wait as patiently as possible. I'd had no more than a sandwich all day so I went out on the private deck and ordered dinner and a bottle of Pouffly on Hannah's ac-count which gave me a perverse pleasure.
Lola arrived rather earlier than expected. I was at the coffee stage of things when the sliding door opened then closed again behind me, fingers gently ruffled my hair and she moved round to the other side of the table.
She looked surprisingly respectable for once in a well-fitting black skirt and a white cotton blouse which buttoned down the front.
"Tomas says you were asking for me." She pushed a glass towards me. "Any special reason?"
I filled her glass. "I was looking for a little fun, that's all. I'm in for the night."
"And Sam?"
"What about Sam?"
"He is with this - this woman who was here the other night? The American?"
"Oh, she seems to have become something of a permanent fixture up at Landro," I said.
The stem of the wineglass snapped in her hand. "God damn him to hell," she said bitterly.
"I know how you feel," I said. "I love him too."
She frowned instantly. "What do you mean?"
I stamped on the floor for the waiter. "Oh, come on now," I said. "Maria of the Angels, you remember her? The one who was so good at dropping out of sight? Mean to say you and Hannah had never clapped eyes on her before?"
The waiter appeared with another bottle. She said care-fully, "And even if this were so, why should I tell you?"
"To get your own back on him. Much simpler from your point of view than sticking a knife in hisback. Now that can be messy. That would get you at least ten years."
She laughed out loud, spilling her wine on the table. "You know, I like you, Englishman. I like you a lot."
She leaned across the table, her mouth opening as she kissed me, tongue probing. After a reasonably lengthy interval, she eased away. Her smile had faded slightly and there was a look of surprise on her face. She seemed to come to some decision and patted my cheek.
"I'll make a bargain with you. You give me what I want and I'lll you what you want. A deal?"
"All right," I said automatically.
"Good. My place is just along the waterfront from here."
She walked out and I followed, wondering what in the hell I'd let myself in for now.
The room was surprisingly clean with a balcony overlooking the river, the image of the Virgin and Child on the wall above a flickering candle. Lola herself was a surprise to say the least She left me on the balcony with a drink and disappeared for a good fifteen minutes. When she returned, she was wearing a housecoat in plain blue silk. Every trace of make-up had been scrubbed from her face and she had tied back her hair.
I got up and put down my glass. She stood looking at me for a while then took off the housecoat and threw it on the bed. Few women are seen at their best in the nude. She had a body to thank God for.
She stood there, hands on hipssand said calmly, "I am beauti-ful, Senhor Mallory?"
"Few men would dispute that."
"But I am a whore," she said flatly. "Beautiful perhaps, but still a whore. Available to any man who can raise the price."
I thought of Joanna Martin who had never actually taken cash on the barrel which was the only difference between them.
"And I am tired of it all," she said. "Just for once I would like a man who can be honest with me as I am honest with him. Who will not simply use me. You understand?"
"I think so," I said.
She blew out the light.
It was late when I awakened. Just after two a.m. according to the luminous dial of my watch. I was alone in the bed', but when I turned my head I saw the glow of her cigarette out there on the terrace.
I started to get dressed. She called softly, "You are leaving?"
"I'll have to," I said. "I've things to do or had you forgotten?"
There was silence for a while and then, as I pulled on my boots, she said, "There is a street opposite the last pier at the other end of the waterfront from here. The house on the corner has a lion carved over the door. You want the apartment at the top of the second flight of stairs."
I pulled on my jacket. "And what will I find there?"
"I wouldn't dream of spoiling the surprise."
I moved to the door, uncertain of what to say. She said, "Will you be back?"
"I don't think it very likely."
"Honest to the last," she said rather bitterly, then laughed, sounding for the first time since we had leftThe Little Boat like the old Lola. "And in the end, Senhor Mallory, I'm not at all certain that was what I really wanted. Don't you find that rather amusing?"
Which I didn't and did what I suspected was the best thing in the circumstances and got out of there fast.
I found the house with the lion above the door easily enough. It was one of those baroque monstrosities left over from the last century, probably built for some wealthy merchant and now in a state of what one might delicately term multiple occupation. The front door opened at once giving access to a large gloomy hall illuminated by a single oil lamp. There was a party going on in one of the downstairs back rooms, I heard a burst of noise and music as someone opened and closed a door.
I started up the stairs in the silence which followed. The first landing was illuminated lik?the hall below by a single oil lamp, but the next flight of stairs disappeared into darkness,
I went up cautiously, feeling my way along the wall, aware of the patter of tiny feet as the rats and lizards scattered out of the way. When I reached the landing, I struck a match and held it above my head. There was no name on the door opposite and the lamp on the wall was cold.
The match started to burn my fingers so I dropped it and tried the door handle with infinite caution. It was locked so I did the obvious thing and knocked gently.
After a while, a lamp was turned up, light seeping under the door, there was movement, a man's voice and then a woman. Someone shuffled towards the door, I knocked again.
"Who is it?" the woman demanded.
"Lola sent me," I answered in Portuguese.
The door started to open, I moved back into the shadows. She said, "Look, I've got someone with me at the moment. Can't you come back a little later?"
I didn't reply. The door opened even wider and Maria of the Angels peered out. "Heh, where are you man?"
I took her by the throat, stifling all sound, and ran her back into the room, shutting the door quietly behind. The man in the bed, who cried out in alarm, was a mountain of flesh if ever I've seen one. A great quivering jelly more likely to die of fright than anything else.
I produced the.45 and waved it at him. "Keep your mouth shut and you won't get hurt"
Then I turned to Maria. "I'd have thought you could have done better than that."
She was calmer now, a trifle arrogant even. She pulled the old wrapper she was wearing closer around her and folded her arms. "What do you want?"
"Answers, that's all. Tell me what I want to know and I won't bring the police into this."
"The police?" She laughed at that one. Then shrugged. "All right, Senhor Mallory, ask away."
"It was a set-up our meeting that night, arranged by Hannah -am I right?"
"I'd just come up-river," she said. "I was new in town. No-body knew me except Lola. We're second cousins."
"What did he pay you?"
"He told me to take whatever money was in your wallet and get rid of anything else."
The instant she said it, I knew that she had not done as she was told. She wasn't the sort. I said, "You've still got them, haven't you? My wallet and the passport."
She sighed in a kind of impatience, turned to a sideboard, opened the drawer and took out my wallet. The passport was inside together with a few other bits and pieces and a photo of my mother and father. I was caught by that for a moment then stowed it away and put the wallet in my breast pocket.
