take Ortíz and Carvallo off surveillance duty then, and still feel that someone is there just in case. I won’t pry into their personal lives. I won’t even be around most of the time.”
Elena turned red with indignation. “ I’m not going to spy for you!”
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” replied Tejada. “But you did say you’d like someone to talk to. And Señora Nuñez must know other women in town. It would be a chance for you to socialize a little.”
“Socialize! As the lieutenant’s wife? I’ll be a leper.”
“Everyone in town will know you’re the lieutenant’s wife anyway,” Tejada pointed out gently. “But I don’t see why that means you should be a leper.”
Elena rolled her eyes. “What were you doing this afternoon?”
“My job.” Tejada’s mouth was tight.
“And that’s guaranteed to make friends!”
“For goodness’ sake, Elena, I’m trying to be civilized about this.” They had almost reached the post, and Tejada lowered his voice. “We can find lodgings elsewhere if you like. But you seemed to like Señora Nuñez, and I thought this might be a way of giving her a little breathing space. Of making everything . . . a bit less official. And after all, times are hard. It will be money in her pocket.”
Elena sighed. She knew that Carlos was doing his best. “I imagine her husband will be dropping by for dinner and to play checkers, too?” she said lightly, as they reached the Guardia building, and he held the outer door for her.
Tejada laughed. “Darling, I’m an optimist. Not an idiot.”
“I’m not sure there’s that much difference these days.” Elena laughed also.
“Thank you very much!”
They had reached the door to their apartment. Tejada unsnapped the padlock and drew back the bolts that prevented intruders from entering in their absence, reflecting as he did so that it might be pleasant to live in a place with a more conventional lock. Elena still smiled, but her voice was serious as she said, “I don’t want to spy on anyone. But I’d like to live somewhere else. I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 5
W ith all due respect, Señor Alcalde, it would be to the advantage of the town if the Guardia had adequate facilities now .” Tejada, watching the blandly benevolent face of the Honorable Don Eduardo Caro y Peña, knew that his words were useless.
“I understand completely, Lieutenant.” The mayor of Potes was courteous. “But any construction work in the town falls under the purview of Devastated Regions.”
“I spoke to the director of Devastated Regions yesterday,” Tejada said. “He informs me that while any long-term construction is, of course, the responsibility of his directorate, the civil administration is responsible for the allocation and maintenance of space in existing public buildings.”
“And that is correct, Lieutenant,” Caro agreed. “However, as you must have seen by now, Potes’s facilities are stretched to the breaking point as it is. It’s simply impossible to allocate more space to the Guardia. Even if all the decisions regarding the use of municipal lands and buildings hadn’t been already made for this calendar year,” he added as an afterthought.
Tejada gritted his teeth. A week in Potes had convinced him that the village had a more ornate and immovable bureaucracy than the Ministry of the Interior in Madrid, but it had also taught him that the only way to deal with this bureaucracy was with the kind of dogged persistence he had previously associated with prisoner interrogation. And during interrogations he was allowed to smack people if they tried his patience too far. As he stood in Don Eduardo’s well-heated and comfortably furnished office, he wondered—not for the first time—if the determination to be unhelpful was a general feature of Potes’s civil administration or if it might be directed at him personally.
Once
Elena turned red with indignation. “ I’m not going to spy for you!”
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” replied Tejada. “But you did say you’d like someone to talk to. And Señora Nuñez must know other women in town. It would be a chance for you to socialize a little.”
“Socialize! As the lieutenant’s wife? I’ll be a leper.”
“Everyone in town will know you’re the lieutenant’s wife anyway,” Tejada pointed out gently. “But I don’t see why that means you should be a leper.”
Elena rolled her eyes. “What were you doing this afternoon?”
“My job.” Tejada’s mouth was tight.
“And that’s guaranteed to make friends!”
“For goodness’ sake, Elena, I’m trying to be civilized about this.” They had almost reached the post, and Tejada lowered his voice. “We can find lodgings elsewhere if you like. But you seemed to like Señora Nuñez, and I thought this might be a way of giving her a little breathing space. Of making everything . . . a bit less official. And after all, times are hard. It will be money in her pocket.”
Elena sighed. She knew that Carlos was doing his best. “I imagine her husband will be dropping by for dinner and to play checkers, too?” she said lightly, as they reached the Guardia building, and he held the outer door for her.
Tejada laughed. “Darling, I’m an optimist. Not an idiot.”
“I’m not sure there’s that much difference these days.” Elena laughed also.
“Thank you very much!”
They had reached the door to their apartment. Tejada unsnapped the padlock and drew back the bolts that prevented intruders from entering in their absence, reflecting as he did so that it might be pleasant to live in a place with a more conventional lock. Elena still smiled, but her voice was serious as she said, “I don’t want to spy on anyone. But I’d like to live somewhere else. I’ll think about it.”
Chapter 5
W ith all due respect, Señor Alcalde, it would be to the advantage of the town if the Guardia had adequate facilities now .” Tejada, watching the blandly benevolent face of the Honorable Don Eduardo Caro y Peña, knew that his words were useless.
“I understand completely, Lieutenant.” The mayor of Potes was courteous. “But any construction work in the town falls under the purview of Devastated Regions.”
“I spoke to the director of Devastated Regions yesterday,” Tejada said. “He informs me that while any long-term construction is, of course, the responsibility of his directorate, the civil administration is responsible for the allocation and maintenance of space in existing public buildings.”
“And that is correct, Lieutenant,” Caro agreed. “However, as you must have seen by now, Potes’s facilities are stretched to the breaking point as it is. It’s simply impossible to allocate more space to the Guardia. Even if all the decisions regarding the use of municipal lands and buildings hadn’t been already made for this calendar year,” he added as an afterthought.
Tejada gritted his teeth. A week in Potes had convinced him that the village had a more ornate and immovable bureaucracy than the Ministry of the Interior in Madrid, but it had also taught him that the only way to deal with this bureaucracy was with the kind of dogged persistence he had previously associated with prisoner interrogation. And during interrogations he was allowed to smack people if they tried his patience too far. As he stood in Don Eduardo’s well-heated and comfortably furnished office, he wondered—not for the first time—if the determination to be unhelpful was a general feature of Potes’s civil administration or if it might be directed at him personally.
Once
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