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“He’s a friend,” Adolfo said. “Let me explain.” Since the little man was the brains of the outfit they accepted me at once. To seal the bond of friendship I opened my bag and gave each of them a crisp packet of money.

“To close the contract,” I said. “You’re on the party payroll now. With my personal guarantee that you will be in on the payoff at the end. The new president will do exactly what I tell him to.” Which was the absolute truth considering the fact that I was going to be that president. “The first thing you can do is help me get back in contact with my people. Do you ever work the tourists in Puerto Azul?” “That’s like suicide!” Adolfo gasped, while the others nodded horrified agreement. “The only off-planet currency we ever get on this planet comes from them. The Ultimados would butcher us in a second if we went near the tourists. We keep our heads down, work a few country marks that come to the big city, give a cut to the police for protection. They make sure that the Ultimados don’t know we exist.” “Could you go to Puerto Azul?” “No reason why not. Our travel papers are in order.” “That’s good enough. I have a contact there who can get a message through to the MarquCz de la Rosa, who will see to it that I get help.” “Do you know him?” Renata asked in a hushed voice. Even crooks are impressed by the aristocracy.

“Know him? We had breakfast together this morning. The only question now is-what will the message be?” And even more important-and depressing thought-what if the marquez were no longer alive? Had they made it back to the castle all right-or had they been intercepted on the way? Were Bolivar and James all right? Or had they been...?

I paced the floor, unthinking, obsessed with worry now that I was out of trouble myself. I could plan nothing until I found out what the situation was. But how could I contact the castle?

Ask the right question and you get the right answer. “Adolfo,” I wheeled about and stabbed a finger in his direction. “You know what happens around here. Have you ever heard of the semaphore system that the aristocrats use?” “Who doesn’t know? Every time you pass one of the castles there are the arms waving and flapping. Those people live in the dark ages. Why don’t they put in telephones...” “What do you mean every time you pass a castle? Aren’t thev on the other side of the barrier?” “No such way. There’s one down the road not two Ks from here.” “Then we are in business? Any trouble getting inside?” “No trouble, but you have to pass two policemen at the gate. Show identification and that kind of thing.” “That’s no good for me. But if I could get a message inside.” I looked at Renata. “Are your papers all right?” She nodded. “They better be. We pay the police enough for them.” “Then you can carry the message. Now describe the physical setup of the castle’s entrance so I can work out a plan for ’ getting me inside.” I dug more money from my bag, I was very free with the marqu6z’s4unds, and passed it over. “This should cover expenses. Now-speak!” I kept the plan simple, like all good plans should be, nevertheless it was past dawn before I had worked the details out. Another sleepless night; this was getting to be a habit. Adolfo was playing solitaire, Santos was asleep on the couch, and I assumed that Renata was doing the same in the bedroom. “Adolfo,” I said. “What time do the shops open in this fine city?” He looked at his watch. “In about two hours.” “Just the time we need to enjoy our breakfasts and go over the details of the exercise. I’ll call room service while you sound reveille.” Two pots of coffee replaced the night’s sleep. I sipped at the last cup and finished the preparations for the coming operation. In the castle, while I had been transcribing the message for the marquez, I had managed to liberate some of his stationery. By reflex, really. I scarcely realized at the time that I had been doing it. But letterheads would be very useftil right now. I wrote the note on one of them, forged the marquez’s signature with an exactitude that brought a murmur of praise from Adolfo, sealed the note into an envelope and passed it over to Renata. “You know what you are to do?” I asked. She nodded.

“No problems. I stop at the milliners and make some purchases. Take a cab. Say I am delivering for the store. The cops let me in. I see that the duke gets the letter. Then I leave and you take over from there.” “Perfect. Stress the urgency of the arrangements to be sure that he gets the timing right. If not I will be very embarrassed. Let’s go.” Can you trust crooks, even well-bribed crooks? That was my depressing thought later that morning as zero hour approached. If all went correctly my new allies would be at their positions now, with the final stages of the operation about to begin. I patted my black beard, glued back into position as soon as they had left the hotel room, and looked at the target. The sidewalk cafe was well placed for this job, no further than two hundred meters from the high wall that ringed Castle Penoso. Four steps led up from the pavement to an iron-bound doorway. Two policemen stood at the foot of those steps. I had watched Renata approach and be stopped and questioned by them, then pass through with her bundle. She had emerged without it-which meant the message had been passed. I looked at my watch. Now the moment for the final stage had arrived. I picked up my bag, threw coins on the table, stood, and walked slowly down the street towards the entrance.

The policemen were at the foot of the steps, hands on their guns, looking at the passersby. A extremely well-built young woman slid sinuously by, which drew their attention, as well as low voiced murmurs of approval. Nothing else happened. Where were my troops? Were they late-or not coming? I bent to tie my shoe. I would be noticed if I stayed this close very much longer.

Then, above the normal traffic sounds, I heard the stressed whine of a car’s engine, growing louder and louder. I walked slowly on.

I had almost reached the doorway when the screech of brakes sounded. Both policemen looked up as the automobile careened down the road, weaving from side to side-to crash into the curb on the other side of the street. An arm dropped limply from the driver’s window.

As the policemen started across the street I bounded up the four steps and pushed hard against the door.

Tliiyac lr~GP~fl

Chapter 17

There’s nothing like a whiff of panic to clear the head. As the adrenalin pumped through my veins, all traces of fatigue vanished on the instant. What was wrong? The door should have been open-they had my message. I pushed again with the same lack of result.

When I looked over my shoulder I saw that the policemen had reached the car. But as soon as they got close the limp arm vanished back inside and the vehicle burst into life, surging forward and away. One policeman shook his fist in impotent fury while the other, slightly more intelligent, wrote down the registration number of the vanishing vehicle. Although this exercise was about as practical as the fist waving: the car had been stolen.

Within seconds the police would turn around and see me there. One last push and I would be off. To think of another plan.

I slammed my shoulder hard against the door in angerjust as it opened. Off-balance I plummeted through and heard it slam behind me.

“Welcome to Castle Penoso, Sir Hector,” a tremulous voice said, “Welcome.” I climbed to my feet and dusted off my knees. The owner of the voice stood just before me. A wraithlike gray man with gray hair and gray skin that neatly matched the color of his clothes. I accepted the tremulous hand and pressed the ancient fingers lightly, bowing at the same time. Trying to remember what you called a duke. Your worship? Your highness? Your dukeness? My mind was empty. I would have to fake it.