The Pineapple Republic

by Jack Treby

  In less than thirty seconds, it was all over. The soldiers had fired their rifles with deadly accuracy and all but one of the Azulito thugs had been killed outright. The last of them was standing over the body of Fernando Corazón, blood dripping from his knife. Fernando’s body lay motionless on the floor.

  Other soldiers streamed into the kitchen.

  One of the riflemen came forward and grabbed hold of the remaining Azulito. The brute dropped his knife. Another soldier attended to the wounded capitán.

  The family rushed across to help Conchita. The chair was righted and somebody clambered up to untie the terrified priest. Afterwards, Father José lay on the ground for some time, breathing heavily, a bloody gash across his throat.

  The capitán was not badly wounded. His men sat him on another chair, by the large dining table.

  The Azulito who had killed Fernando was taken outside and a moment later a gunshot ricocheted across the valley.

  Conchita crouched, grief–stricken, at her father’s side. Fernando’s wife, Anabel, was too numb to cry.

  A stretcher was brought for the capitán and for Father José. Both men were loaded into the back of an army vehicle and the soldiers drove away without another word.

  Eight corpses were left behind. Seven Azulitos and one innocent farmer.

  But the army had achieved its objective: Father José Luis Sentido was alive.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It’s not often you wake up in a prison cell in a foreign country to find yourself leader of a government–funded opposition party. It can come as something as a shock, especially if you didn’t know the position was even vacant. I had gone to sleep a suspected criminal and woken up a high–ranking politician. It was not an easy thing to come to terms with.

  Alberto Viscoso was very patient with me, explaining everything in great detail; but the civil servant might as well have been speaking in Arabic for the all the sense it made to me.

  ‘Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that the documents I signed last night were application forms for membership of the Partido Revolucionario Democrático.’

  Viscoso nodded happily.

  ‘And that as of midnight last night I became the legitimate leader of the PRD.’

  ‘Indeed you did!’

  I blinked. For the life of me, I couldn’t think of an intelligent response. In the end, I opted for something obvious: ‘But that’s insane.’ I could see the logic of finding a quick replacement for Juan Federico. But choosing me? Nobody could be that desperate. Clearly, the provisional government thought otherwise. The most bizarre part was that Viscoso seemed to think I would go along with it all. As if I, a respected British journalist, would simply compromise my integrity and help to undermine the democratic processes of an entire nation.

  ‘My dear friend,’ Viscoso reassured me. ‘There’s no need for you to take it all so seriously. It’s just a name on a piece of paper. A formality, nothing more. We don’t actually expect you to do anything.’

  ‘But...you’re asking me to take part in a massive electoral fraud; to draw votes away from the legitimate opposition just so your own candidate gets an easy ride.’

  ‘That is the idea, of course. I won’t insult you by pretending otherwise. But the PRD is a legitimate political party. It has been accepted as such by an entirely independent electoral commission. So there’s really nothing to be concerned about, is there?’

  I disagreed. ‘I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.’

  ‘Be reasonable. You can walk out of here at any time. The murder charge has already been dropped. All we ask is that you stay in San Doloroso until after the election. Then you can do whatever you like.’

  ‘But I’m due back in London on Saturday,’ I exclaimed. ‘What will my editor say?’

  ‘Take a leave of absence. Ask for an extended holiday. It’s only until January. You’ll be back home soon enough. And I’m sure you’ll find lots of things to occupy yourself with in the meantime.’

  ‘As your political stooge?’

  ‘As a free agent. My dear fellow, you can do whatever you like. Condemn the government. Kick up a fuss. Who knows, you might even pick up a few votes.’

  ‘At the expense of Antonio Fracaso.’

  ‘Well, preferably, of course.’

  ‘But everyone will know I’m a stooge. Everybody knew about Juan Federico. And look what happened to him. If I go along with all this, how long before someone has a go at killing me?’

  ‘Oh, you needn’t worry about that. We’ll look after you. And I honestly don’t think you’ll be in any danger. The streets are very quiet at the moment.’

  That didn’t sound right. ‘I thought they were rioting.’

  ‘Not any more. My dear fellow, you’re behind the times. Father José has been found, out in the country. He’s alive and well.’

  ‘Found?’

  ‘Yes. Up in the mountains, I believe.’

  ‘Thank goodness.’ I closed my eyes with some relief. ‘But what about Dick?’

  Viscoso paused for a moment. ‘Oh, your journalist friend. Well, he’s certainly alive. I couldn’t tell you exactly where he is, but his article on Sen...on Father José has been syndicated across the United States just this morning. So you see, as far as you are concerned, everything is right with the world. We hold on to your passport, you can have a three month holiday courtesy of the PRD and then everyone can go home. What more could anyone possibly ask?’

  ‘Erm...look,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry, I just...I can’t do this. It’s absurd. I was forced to sign those papers at gunpoint. You can’t reasonably expect me to be bound by anything they say.’

  Viscoso sighed. ‘Oh dear. Do we really have to descend to the level of vulgar threats? At this time in the morning? Chief Inspector Lopez is so much better at that than I am.’

  ‘Where is Inspector Lopez?’

  ‘Being given a dressing down by the government, I shouldn’t wonder. He’s with the general, reporting back to the others.’ Despite appearances, General Malvado was not actually head of the provisional government. Officially, it was a five–man team. The others had taken something of a back seat, but Malvado was by no means a free agent.

  ‘And what if I refuse to cooperate?’

  ‘There is still the matter of your mother’s ashes. The original test results were inconclusive. And we wouldn’t want anything untoward to happen to them while they were being re–examined. I’m afraid the chief inspector’s men can be rather clumsy at the best of times...’

  ‘If anything happens to that urn ...’

  ‘All we require is your cooperation.’

  It was a crude attempt at blackmail and it wouldn’t work. My mother had always hated corruption. That was part of the reason she had left San Doloroso in the first place. If it was a choice between giving in to authority and protecting my mother’s ashes, I knew what she would want me to do.

  ‘I admire your principles. I really do. You are a most remarkable man. Such a shame. I don’t suppose Inspector Lopez told you about the girl?’

  ‘Girl? What girl?’

  ‘No, I didn’t think so. He was frightfully busy yesterday. Lolita. She’s a prostitute. And a very popular one, so I gather. She works at the Casa De Doña Fulana. A delightful place. Not that I’ve ever been there, but our dear friend the inspector frequents the establishment.’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘Come, come. There’s no need to be modest. We know you’re besotted with the girl.’

  ‘Besotted?’ What was the man talking about? I barely knew the woman.

  ‘There’s no point in denying it. The chief inspector has spoken to the girl. She speaks very highly of you. And we know you’re staying at the Casa where she works.’

  ‘Yes, but...’

  ‘We also know, thanks to Inspector Lopez, that she was with you at the roadblock when that Azulito was accidentally killed. Some people might say that makes her an accessory to murder.’

  ‘You
’re joking.’

  ‘It’s a police matter, of course. But who knows? If the investigation were reopened, the evidence might even suggest this Lolita Corazón was directly responsible for the Azulito’s death. And murder, I’m afraid, is a capital offence in San Doloroso.’

  My mouth fell open.

  ‘Normally, we use hydrogen cyanide gas. Not a pleasant way to die, but very efficient, so I’m told. Oh, you needn’t concern yourself. I’m sure if it came to trial your own sentence would be commuted to life imprisonment. We wouldn’t want to upset our European cousins.’ After Hawaii, San Doloroso was the biggest supplier of pineapples to the European Community. ‘But as for this Lolita Corazón, well...who would miss a common prostitute?’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dick Carter was surrounded by prostitutes. He was finding it rather difficult to concentrate on his breakfast. Madam Fulana had cooked a huge meal for him and it was a struggle to digest it all. Dick had stayed the night at the Casa for the second time in less than a week, but only because it had been too late to drive back to the Intercontinental Hotel.

  Lolita Corazón was out in reception, cleaning the floors. Most of the prostitutes only worked evenings, for obvious reasons, but Lolita was one of a handful who lived at the Casa on a permanent basis. The cleaning was a voluntary affair. She liked to help out with the upkeep of the place and the extra labour kept Madam Fulana’s overheads to a minimum.

  I arrived at the top of the stairs just as Lolita was bending over a bucket of soapy water. She looked up and dropped her mop in astonishment. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she launched herself at me. I staggered backwards as she leapt into my arms and wrapped her legs around my waist. The two of us almost fell down the stairs. Lolita was about the same height as me and I doubted she weighed any less. She grasped my neck in her arms and kissed me enthusiastically. I had gone up in her estimation since the events at the roadblock and this time there was not a hint of mockery in her enthusiasm. I must admit, I was glad to see her too. After the threats from Viscoso, I was concerned that somebody might have carted the poor girl off.

  Madam Fulana appeared behind the reception desk. I did my best to wave at her.

  ‘Where’s Dick?’ I asked.

  ‘Over here, mate.’ Dick popped his head around a back curtain and grinned. He wiped some crumbs from his mouth. ‘I was just coming to see you.’ Lolita dropped down and the journalist came forward to greet me. We hugged in a manly fashion.

  ‘Dick. I need to speak to you. In private.’

  ‘No worries. I’m up in your room at the moment. If...’

  A telephone rang in the back office. Madam Fulana disappeared to answer the call. Lolita glanced at Dick with sudden concern.

  ‘Waiting to hear from a contact of mine,’ he explained. ‘We’ve had a bit of a problem looking after Father José.’

  ‘Father...? Oh, didn’t you know? He was found, last night. Somebody at the station told me. He’s alive and well.’

  Dick winked at Lolita. ‘What did I tell you? Nothing to worry about.’

  Madam Fulana returned to view. ‘Señor Dick. It’s for you. Your man in Ausente.’

  The journalist nodded. ‘Won’t be a minute.’ He disappeared behind the velvet curtains.

  Lolita stood at my side and looked at me with a twinkle in her eye. I did my best to smile at her. I had the worrying feeling she was about to start groping me again.

  Dick returned to the foyer before the girl got the chance. ‘I’m sorry, love,’ he said. ‘There’s a bit of bad news...’

  An hour later, Dick and I were sitting together on the salmon–pink sheets of my old double bed. Dick had rolled a cigarette and I’d told him all about Alberto Viscoso. ‘Bloody hell, mate,’ he exclaimed, when I had finished the tale. ‘I leave you alone for five minutes and when I come back you’re standing for president.’

  ‘There was nothing I could do, Dick. They forced me to sign those documents. I didn’t have any idea what they were. Then I wake up this morning and find I’m a politician! And then I’m threatened again. Capital punishment, he said. And the only way I could get out of the building was to pretend to go along with it all. And it wasn’t even me he was threatening. It was Lolita, who I barely even know. I mean, she’s a lovely girl and everything, apart from the wandering hands, but I’m hardly going to agree to undermine the political system of an entire country just for the sake of one woman, even if her father has just died. I mean, he seemed to think I was in love with her or something. Dick, what am I going to do? This county is completely insane.’

  ‘Just stay calm, mate. We’ll work something out.’ Dick rose up from the bed. ‘You say he threatened Lolita?’

  I nodded. ‘Said she was there when I...when I killed that Azulito. I don’t think he was bluffing, Dick. I thought he was going to cut her throat or something. I mean, he more or less implied she was under lock and key somewhere.’

  ‘Poor cow. As if she hasn’t been through enough already.’ Dick had told me what Lolita and her family had done for Father José. The girl was with Madam Fulana now, in an understandable state of shock. ‘All right. So obviously you’re not going to go along with this puppet thing for the Junta. But at the same time, we don’t want any harm coming to Little Miss Lively there. So the best bet is to get Lolita out of the picture, get her somewhere safe. And quickly. Before the cops send someone around to put her in jail.’

  ‘I’m surprised they haven’t been here already.’

  ‘There’s a plain-clothes guy out the front.’ Dick gestured to the window. ‘But I reckon he’s just keeping an eye on you. If they’ve got their wits about them, they’ll have Lolita under lock and key before lunchtime. So we’ve got to get her as far away from here as possible.’

  ‘What I don’t understand is why they let me go. I mean, why bother to trust me and let me out?’

  Dick shrugged. ‘They can’t exactly keep a major political leader in prison, can they? Looks bad in the papers.’

  ‘No, but after what happened to Luis Cuerpo you’d expect them to at least want to keep me in protective custody.’

  Dick shook his head. ‘Not after the write–up I gave you, mate. You’re a national hero.’

  ‘A what?’ I stared at him.

  ‘It’ll be all over the papers this morning. How you saved the life of Father José Luis Sentido. I filed the story last night. Now they’ve found the old guy, you’ll practically be a saint.’

  ‘But Dick, I didn’t do anything. You know that. You saved his life.’

  Dick shrugged. ‘It was your car that got him away from the church. As soon as the press pack find out where you are, you’re going to be swamped, mate.’

  That was the least of my problems. ‘I’m going to be lynched if they find out I’ve replaced Juan Federico as leader of the PRD.’ According to Viscoso, the Electoral Commission would make an official announcement later that day.

  ‘I shouldn’t worry. Just go underground for a few days. Ride it out, until we get Lolita over the border. Then you can deny everything and fly off home.’

  ‘Dick, they kept my passport.’

  ‘You can always get another one.’

  ‘And what about Lolita? You really think you can smuggle her out of the country?

  ‘Don’t see why not.’

  ‘But will she want to leave? I mean, her father has just died.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’ Dick took a final drag from his cigarette. ‘All right. Here’s the plan: I’m going to catch the afternoon train to Ausente. I’ve got to go there anyhow. The agency’s going to want a follow up piece on Father José, now he’s out in the open.’ The elderly priest was being held in a military hospital on the outskirts of Verdura. The press had been allowed access to him, but he was too weak to answer questions. His throat had been badly hurt by the noose. ‘I’ll take Lolita with me. We can get her out to the farmstead from there. Then I’ll see if I can arrange to slip her across into Costa Rica.’

  ‘So
unds like a good plan.’

  ‘Meantime you just keep a low profile. The government are going to have you under surveillance twenty–four hours a day, so better steer clear of the British Embassy or anywhere like that. And when the press hounds strike, don’t tell them anything.’

  ‘What about the Herald? I’m due back this weekend.’

  ‘Do what your bloke suggested. Ask for a leave of absence.’

  I grimaced. Miranda Bullock was not renowned for her generosity.

  ‘She can hardly say no this time, can she?’ Dick stood up and strode over to the door. ‘I’ll go talk to Lolita. We’re going to have to get going pretty sharpish. before the boys in green realise their mistake.’ He turned around. ‘One last thing, mate. Promise me something while I’m away.’

  I glanced up. ‘What?’

  ‘For God’s Sake, don’t sign anything else.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  Three coffins were being lowered into the ground at five metre intervals. Family members and assorted colleagues encircled the graves of the three political leaders and watched respectfully as the Bishop of Toronja, Father Leonardo Bendito, completed the ceremony. The representatives of a dozen newspapers and television channels were waiting patiently out in the street, beyond the church gates. It was unusual for me to be on the other side of the divide. It was doubly unusual, since I didn’t know any of the men who were being buried.

  The press had swamped me as soon as I had left Madam Fulana’s residence. Dick was right. Almost overnight, I had become a celebrity and now everyone wanted an interview. The phone had not stopped ringing since Wednesday afternoon. The interest aroused by Dick’s article was as nothing compared to the astonishment provoked when the Electoral Commission formally published the list of presidential candidates that same evening. With no replacement found for the murdered SFA leader, I was now one of only three candidates contesting the presidency and everyone wanted to talk to me. The Casa was more or less under siege.