Juana’s piercing screams were suddenly cut short. Cade was half up as he saw another shadowy figure come charging at him. He straightened and was knocked sprawling. Gasping, he began to scramble to his feet when he saw two men standing over him, their arms raised. He threw up his arms, but he was too late. Something that felt like a bar of iron crashed down on his head and the night exploded into a sheet of blinding flame, and then darkness.
Later, he vaguely became aware of great heat and the smell of burning. He made a feeble effort to open his eyes, and again darkness closed over him. Later still, he became aware of voices and movement, but he was beyond caring. His head felt as if it had been split in two. He heard himself groaning. There was a sudden prick in his arm, and he drifted away once more into blessed darkness.
The young Mexican surgeon whose name was Jose Pinto came into the hospital waiting-room where Juana, Creel and Sam Wand stood in an uneasy group by the window.
Wand, a tall, fat dynamo of a man in his middle forties, had flown down as soon as the news of the attack had reached him. Juana whose beauty had made no impression on him, could tell him little of the attack. She said five men had been involved. Before she could go to Cade’s help, a blanket had been thrown over her head and she had been held while the brutal beating had been in progress.
The neighbours, alarmed by her first screams, had telephoned the police who had arrived with their usual indifference of all Mexicans to an emergency some time after the attackers had gone. They found the garage in flames, the Thunderbird a charred wreck and Cade hovering between life and death. He had been rushed to hospital. Three days later it had been decided to operate.
‘He’s come through very well,’ Pinto said as the three turned expectantly. ‘He has a very thick skull. There is a fracture, of course, but it will heal. I am optimistic. In a month or so, he will be as well as he has ever been.’
‘Can I see him?’ Juana asked.
‘Tomorrow, but not before.’
Later, at a café, sitting opposite each other, Juana asked Wand for money.
‘The operation has to be paid for,’ she explained. ‘There are also many other expenses. I need a new car.’
‘He hasn’t much money now,’ Wand said, regarding her coldly. ‘He has been spending his capital recently like a drunken sailor.’ He tapped a fat finger on her diamond wrist watch. ‘If you want money, sell that. The insurance will take care of the car. What he has left, he will need when he comes out of hospital.’
Her face expressionless, her eyes suddenly hard, Juana stood up.
‘He has always told me you are a good friend of his,’ she said. ‘I don’t think you are. He wouldn’t want me to sell my watch. It is the last thing he would want.’
Wand smiled at her, not bothering to get to his feet. To him she was a beautiful whore; nothing more, nothing less.
‘It is because I happen to be a good friend of his that I am telling you to sell the watch and all the other expensive toys he has given you. I am holding onto whatever money he has left and you, dear lady, are certainly not getting it!’
She shrugged her beautiful shoulders, turned and with swinging hips, she walked out into the sunshine.
The following morning Wand was Cade’s first visitor.
Dr. Pinto had already told Cade that Juana was unhurt and that in a month or so he would be up and about again, but as Wand came into the small, white room, he could see Cade was troubled.
‘Good of you to come, Sam,’ Cade said as the big, fat man lowered his bulk onto the chair by the bed.
‘Have you seen Juana?’
‘I saw her yesterday. She’s all right.’
‘Did she say when she was coming to see me?’ Cade’s sunken eyes were anxious.
‘No, but she’ll be along today. How do you feel?’
Cade grimaced.
‘This is a curse, Sam. It means I have lost the New Orleans job, doesn’t it?’
‘Jackson couldn’t wait. He got Lucas.’
‘I don’t know how Juana is off for money, Sam. If she wants some, let her have it.’
‘She’ll manage. I had better hold on to your last Stocks. You’ll need money when you come out.’
‘I guess that’s right but … oh, well, I’ll talk to her.’
‘What’s all this about anyway?’ Wand asked. ‘Any idea who these thugs were?’
‘They didn’t like my bull fighting pictures. Adolfo warned me, but I didn’t pay any attention. I’m not good at taking advice. The car’s gone?’
‘Yes.’
‘She’ll have to have a new one.’
‘The insurance will take care of that. Don’t worry about her. She can more than look after herself. Look, Val, I have to get back to New York. I just wanted you to know that I’ll have a mass of work lined up for you as soon as you’re fit. You take it easy, and leave it all to me.’
When he had gone, Cade closed his eyes. His head ached and he felt depressed. He couldn’t understand why Juana hadn’t been the first to visit him.
She came in the late afternoon. Cade who had been dozing, opened his eyes to find her by his bed. Although his head was aching, he was able to smile. He caught hold of her hand and she bent and kissed him.
‘It is lovely to see you. How are you? Are you in pain?’ She sat down.
‘I’m all right, but how about you? Miss me?’
‘Of course,’ she said, paused, then went on, ‘There is so much to do. The insurance people are being difficult about the car. They say the coverage was for accidental fire and this was deliberate. I’ve had to consult a lawyer. He doesn’t think they will pay. Then there’s the garage. The owner of our house wasn’t insured. He is claiming from us.’
Cade wished his head didn’t ache so badly. He forced a grin.
‘Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Let them all wait I’ll fix it when I am up.’
‘But in the meantime I haven’t a car. Taxis are almost impossible to get. Could I buy a car?’
‘Sure … of course. I don’t know how much I have in the bank, but there should be enough. My cheque book is in that drawer. I’ll sign a blank cheque, but watch it baby, don’t put me in the red.’
Her face lit up as she gave him a flashing, heart-warming smile. She got the cheque book, found a pen and stood over him while he signed.
‘Ask Creel to find you something cheap, honey. Until I’m earning again we’ll have to watch our money.’
‘I have a friend in the car business. I won’t bother Creel. My friend will find me something quickly.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Dr. Pinto said I was only to stay a few minutes.’ She put the cheque in her bag. ‘Don’t worry if I don’t come tomorrow, cariño. I’ll be looking at cars. I’ll come as soon as I can.’
‘Wait a minute, Juana.’ Cade’s head was aching so badly he was white and sweating. ‘Did you speak to Renado about Franoco? It was Franoco who staged this attack, wasn’t it?’
‘I don’t know. It could have been anyone. There is much bad feeling about those photos.’
‘But did you speak to Renado?’
She hesitated, not looking at him.
‘No … I forgot, but it could have been anyone.’ She bent and kissed him. ‘Adios. Get well quickly. I miss you,’ and she was gone.
Her visit upset Cade. Dr. Pinto wasn’t pleased with him when he saw him later.
‘No visitors for a few days,’ he said. ‘No, don’t argue. It’s for your own good. I’m going to give you a sedative and you’re going to have a nice sleep.’
Cade didn’t protest.
‘Will you telephone my wife? I don’t want her to come all this way if she can’t see me.’
‘I’ll telephone,’ Pinto said.
Before Cade took the sedative, he thought of what Juana had told him. He was going to have to face a financial mess when he left the hospital. He felt a qualm of uneasiness about giving her a blank cheque. He hoped she wouldn’t clean out the account, but of course she had to have
money. Then he remembered he had still to pay for the watch; there was this garage business. Would he have to compensate the owner? He felt suddenly as if his safe, easy comfortable world was falling to pieces. He welcomed sleep when eventually it came.
A week slid by. Cade was kept under sedation. His head ceased to ache, he was relaxed and he could feel his strength returning. What pleased him and helped him more than anything was the daily bunch of flowers that were delivered with a card always bearing the same message: My love, Juana, written in a small, untidy hand and the first time Cade had seen Juana’s handwriting.
On the eighth day, Cade asked Pinto if he could see Juana.
The doctor shook his head.
‘Not yet. People bring trouble. You’re in no state for trouble. I’m not saying your wife would upset you, but she must have her own personal problems. That is only natural. So if you want to get well quickly, be patient. In another week, the fracture will be healed. You’ll be surprised how quickly you’ll be up and about once it is healed. But get a setback now, and you could be here for another month or more. So no visitors for another week.’
‘Tell her, please.’
Dr. Pinto looked at him and then away.
‘I’ll tell her,’ he said.
At the end of the second week, Cade was sitting in an armchair by the open window. He was feeling pretty good, a little weak still, but he hadn’t had a headache for three days and he was determined to see Juana without further delay. He told Dr. Pinto so when he came in for his daily visit.
‘Yes,’ Pinto said, his face expressionless. ‘I think you are out of danger now. All right, I’ll telephone. How about tomorrow afternoon?’
‘This afternoon,’ Cade said firmly. ‘I’ve waited long enough. I can’t imagine why there is no telephone in this room. What kind of hospital are you running?’
Pinto shrugged.
‘This is where we treat head injuries, Senor Cade. People with bad head injuries don’t need a telephone.’
‘How much longer am I staying here?’
‘Another week. I’ll need to see you from to time just to be sure you’re going along all right.’
‘All this cost money,’ Cade said, frowning. ‘I’m feeling fine now. Frankly, doctor, I have to get back to work.’
‘You will in another week.’
Cade picked up the pile of cards and flicked through them: each bearing Juana’s simple message. There were fifteen of them. A new one with a bunch of carnations had arrived that morning.
‘My wife’s got to stop this,’ he said with a sudden grin. ‘We can’t afford it.’
Dr. Pinto looked down at his finger nails, hesitated, then said, ‘I have to get along. I’ll see you tomorrow,’ and he left the room.
Cade stared after him, suddenly a little uneasy. What was the matter with the man this morning? he wondered.
Visiting hours at the hospital began at 15.00 hours. Cade sat by the open window, waiting impatiently, his eyes continually going to his watch. During that waiting period, he thought of Juana. He thought of their first meeting on the hot sands of Acapulco, their first love-making, his proposal at the foot of the Pyramid of the Moon, the wedding and the house. He drew in a deep breath. With her he had found the one great thing that had been missing in his life: love and the security of a background. In a few minutes, she would walk in, and they would be together. With her, he wasn’t scared of the future nor of his debts. He could always earn money. They would have to go slow at first, but that didn’t matter. What did matter was they would be together again.
A tap sounded on the door.
‘Come on in, sweetheart,’ Cade called, his face flushing with excitement.
The door opened and Adolfo Creel came in. He looked a little more seedy. There were fresh food stains on his light suit. His fat face had a fine film of sweat on it. As he moved into the room, he didn’t look at Cade. He closed the door and stood hesitating, a soiled handkerchief screwed up in his sweating hand.
‘Why, hello, Adolfo, I wasn’t expecting you,’ Cade said, staring at him. ‘What are you doing here?’
Creel looked at him. His black eyes were sad and moist. He didn’t say anything.
‘I am expecting Juana, Adolfo,’ Cade said a little impatiently. ‘Could you come back tomorrow?’
‘She won’t be coming, Senor Cade,’ Creel said.
Cade stared at him. A chill began to grow around his heart.
‘Is she ill?’
Creel shook his head.
‘Well, what is it?’ Cade demanded. ‘Don’t stand there like a goddamn dummy! Why isn’t she coming?’
‘She is not here.’
‘Of course she is! I had her flowers this morning!’
Creel stared down at his dusty shoes. He didn’t say anything.
‘If she’s not here … then where is she?’
‘She’s in Spain, senor.’
‘Have you gone mad?’ Cade’s voice rose. ‘Spain? What is she doing in Spain?’
Creel licked his lips.
‘The bull fighting season in Madrid has begun.’
Cade tried to keep calm. He felt a nerve jumping by his temple. His body was cold and damp with sweat.
‘What has bull fighting to do with Juana? Will you please tell me what you are hinting at? Has Juana left me?’
Creel nodded dumbly.
Cade picked up the fifteen cards and shook them at Creel. They flew out of his hand and scattered on the floor.
‘You’re lying! You’ve gone crazy! Only this morning she sent me flowers, damn you!’
‘I sent them, senor. I am very sorry to have deceived you, but the doctor said you weren’t ready to hear such had news.’
‘You sent them?’
‘Yes, senor. I wanted you to get well quickly. That is my writing on the cards. I thought it was unlikely you would know Senora Cade’s handwriting. I took a chance.’
‘But there are fifteen of them,’ Cade said, his voice beginning to shake. ‘How long has she been gone?’
‘She went the day after her first visit to you, senor.’
Creel shut his eyes. She had come only for his money, he thought. He began to shake.
‘Well, go on. There’s more, isn’t there? Who is she with in Spain?’ He knew without asking. It had suddenly become clear and horrible: like a nightmare that had materialised into three dimensions.
‘Pedro Diaz,’ Creel said.
Cade slowly clenched his fists.
‘Thank you, Adolfo. Now please go away.’
Creel began to say how sorry he was, but the expression of agony on Cade’s face silenced him. Moved to tears, for he had come to love Cade, the fat man went out of the room and eased the door shut.
Alerted by Creel, but delayed by a patient for some thirty minutes, Dr. Pinto hurried as soon as he was free to Cade’s room.
He found Cade dressed and putting on his jacket. Cade looked briefly at Pinto, his face white, his eyes stony, then began to put his personal things into his pockets.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Pinto said sharply. ‘You are in no condition to get dressed. You must get back to bed!’
‘Shut up!’ Cade said. ‘I’m leaving. Do you want me to sign anything?’
‘Senor Cade, I know what has happened. I am truly sorry, but you must act like a responsible person. You are not fit to leave.’
‘Shove your sorrow,’ Cade said. ‘I’m leaving. You’ll get paid. Send the account to my agent. Now, get out of my way!’
Pinto saw by Cade’s desperate expression that it was hopeless to try to reason with him.
‘You are taking a considerable risk,’ he said quietly, ‘but, of course, I can’t stop you. Will you please wait here until I get the necessary forms for you to sign.’
‘I’ll give you fifteen minutes,’ Cade said, sitting on the bed, ‘then I walk out.’
Twelve minutes later, the form signed, Cade walked unsteadily down the steps of the hospital towards the tra
ffic-packed street.
Creel appeared out of the shade. He was still a little unnerved by his mad rush to reach the hospital after Pinto had called him.
‘The car is here, senor,’ he said. ‘Where may I take you?’
Cade had a nightmare-appearance. His white bandaged, shaven head, his chalk-white face, his sunken wild eyes made him the object of startled glances from the steady flow of visitors coming up the hospital steps.
‘You don’t have to bother with me,’ he said. ‘I can walk. There is no more gold to rub off. You’re wasting your time.’
‘I asked where I may take you, amigo,’ Creel said gently.
Cade paused, then stared at the fat man. He put his hand on Creel’s arm.
‘Sorry … don’t pay any attention to what I say. Take me to the house.’
They drove in silence to the house. Cade remained in the car for several minutes, staring down at his hands before making the obvious effort of getting out of the car. Creel waited half an hour, then he walked up the path and entered the house.
Cade was sitting in one of the lounging chairs in the living-room, a glass half-full of Tequila in his hand.
‘What are those things, Adolfo?’ he asked as the fat man came uneasily into the room. He waved his glass towards the table, slopping some of the drink onto the carpet.
Creel looked at the small cards neatly laid out on the table. He peered at them, then grimaced.
‘They are tickets on the National Pawnshop.’
Cade leaned back and stared up at the ceiling.
‘She must have needed money badly,’ he said. ‘Everything has gone.’ He drew in a long shuddering breath. ‘Even my camera equipment.’
Creel sat down and began to list the value of the tickets on the back of a crumpled envelope he had taken from his pocket.
‘How much?’ Cade asked.
‘Eight thousand pesos, senor.’
Cade shrugged.
‘What does it matter? You run along, Adolfo. Come and see me tomorrow if you feel like it. Go on, shove off.’
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