General did not take me into his confidence. He never spoke to me and never made use of myservices. Perhaps the adjutant destroyed the draft when the General died.”
“Then you know nothing?”
“No, unfortunately.”
Manuel was silent and looked thoughtfully at him. The young man seemed intelligent but not very willing to cooperate. In some way their relationship had gone awry from the very start. Things had not begun well.
“How do I call my secretary?”
“Use the telephone—it’s connected.”
Manuel cursed himself for overlooking this simple solution.
“May I go now?”
“Yes.”
He lifted the receiver and the woman answered at once.
“Get me the Chief of Police, Captain Behounek.”
About three minutes later she opened the door and said: “It seems to be difficult. I just get through to someone who refuses to put me through to anywhere.”
“Let me speak to him.”
He lifted the receiver and heard someone mumbling.
“Hullo,” said the voice. “Are you still there, beautiful?”
“This is the Provincial Resident. To whom am I speaking?”
“Duty officer.”
“Will you put me through to the Chief of Police.”
“He’s at a meeting.”
“Then get him. If you don’t allow me to speak to him then it’s at your own risk.”
The duty officer hesitated slightly.
“One moment—I’ll find out.”
Silence for a moment. Then there was a click and someone said: “Behounek speaking.”
“The Provincial Resident speaking. Manuel Ortega.”
“Ah, welcome. Unfortunately I was unable to meet you today. But we’ll meet this evening, won’t we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you had the invitation? Strange. A party at Dalgren’s. Particularly appropriate as it can be a welcoming party for you as well. You’ll have the opportunity of meeting a lot of people and making a few contacts.”
The man’s voice was lively and forceful. He sounded at ease—forthright and humorous.
“I’d like to have a private talk with you first. Preferably with General Gami and Colonel Orbal too.”
“Unfortunately I have to inform you that the General and his Chief-of-Staff will not be able to meet you for at least a week. They are much occupied with important military matters.”
“Are they out of town?”
“I imagine so. To be quite honest, I don’t know. But personally I’m at your service of course. When can you come?”
“I’d prefer to talk here in my office. In an hour. Will that suit you?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be there.”
A moment later Danica Rodríguez opened the door and said: “We’ve had an invitation to some kind of party this evening. Do you want to go?”
“Yes. Accept it and find out the details.”
“Don’t you think it a bit unsuitable for me to go too?”
“Not at all. The Chief of Police is coming here in an hour. I think it’d be wise to note down in shorthand the gist of our conversation.”
“Undoubtedly.”
He looked at her in surprise as she went out. She still walked like an animal.
Captain Behounek arrived forty minutes late and seemed completely unaware of the fact. He was a heavily built man with a narrow black mustache, a rugged sunburned face, and a rumbling laugh. He threw himself into the visitor’s chair and looked with amusement at López, who was sitting immobile in his chair.
“One of your specialists?”
Manuel Ortega nodded. The sun was very low and the heat almost intolerable. He felt sweaty and dull, especially in the presence of the police officer, who was lolling in the armchair, untroubled and good-natured, as he studied Danica Rodríguez’s feet and long bare legs.
“Would you mind reporting on the situation in the province at the moment, from a police point of view. Only broadly, of course.”
Behounek dragged his eyes with obvious reluctance away from the woman with the shorthand notebook, took out a cigar, cut off the top of it, lit it, and carefully put the match in the ashtray.
“It is calm,” he
“Then you know nothing?”
“No, unfortunately.”
Manuel was silent and looked thoughtfully at him. The young man seemed intelligent but not very willing to cooperate. In some way their relationship had gone awry from the very start. Things had not begun well.
“How do I call my secretary?”
“Use the telephone—it’s connected.”
Manuel cursed himself for overlooking this simple solution.
“May I go now?”
“Yes.”
He lifted the receiver and the woman answered at once.
“Get me the Chief of Police, Captain Behounek.”
About three minutes later she opened the door and said: “It seems to be difficult. I just get through to someone who refuses to put me through to anywhere.”
“Let me speak to him.”
He lifted the receiver and heard someone mumbling.
“Hullo,” said the voice. “Are you still there, beautiful?”
“This is the Provincial Resident. To whom am I speaking?”
“Duty officer.”
“Will you put me through to the Chief of Police.”
“He’s at a meeting.”
“Then get him. If you don’t allow me to speak to him then it’s at your own risk.”
The duty officer hesitated slightly.
“One moment—I’ll find out.”
Silence for a moment. Then there was a click and someone said: “Behounek speaking.”
“The Provincial Resident speaking. Manuel Ortega.”
“Ah, welcome. Unfortunately I was unable to meet you today. But we’ll meet this evening, won’t we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you had the invitation? Strange. A party at Dalgren’s. Particularly appropriate as it can be a welcoming party for you as well. You’ll have the opportunity of meeting a lot of people and making a few contacts.”
The man’s voice was lively and forceful. He sounded at ease—forthright and humorous.
“I’d like to have a private talk with you first. Preferably with General Gami and Colonel Orbal too.”
“Unfortunately I have to inform you that the General and his Chief-of-Staff will not be able to meet you for at least a week. They are much occupied with important military matters.”
“Are they out of town?”
“I imagine so. To be quite honest, I don’t know. But personally I’m at your service of course. When can you come?”
“I’d prefer to talk here in my office. In an hour. Will that suit you?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll be there.”
A moment later Danica Rodríguez opened the door and said: “We’ve had an invitation to some kind of party this evening. Do you want to go?”
“Yes. Accept it and find out the details.”
“Don’t you think it a bit unsuitable for me to go too?”
“Not at all. The Chief of Police is coming here in an hour. I think it’d be wise to note down in shorthand the gist of our conversation.”
“Undoubtedly.”
He looked at her in surprise as she went out. She still walked like an animal.
Captain Behounek arrived forty minutes late and seemed completely unaware of the fact. He was a heavily built man with a narrow black mustache, a rugged sunburned face, and a rumbling laugh. He threw himself into the visitor’s chair and looked with amusement at López, who was sitting immobile in his chair.
“One of your specialists?”
Manuel Ortega nodded. The sun was very low and the heat almost intolerable. He felt sweaty and dull, especially in the presence of the police officer, who was lolling in the armchair, untroubled and good-natured, as he studied Danica Rodríguez’s feet and long bare legs.
“Would you mind reporting on the situation in the province at the moment, from a police point of view. Only broadly, of course.”
Behounek dragged his eyes with obvious reluctance away from the woman with the shorthand notebook, took out a cigar, cut off the top of it, lit it, and carefully put the match in the ashtray.
“It is calm,” he
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