The Pineapple Republic
Page 19
‘Of course. It’s all been arranged. Why else do you think we made you leader of the PRD? It wasn’t for the general’s benefit.’
‘But no one will vote for me,’ I objected. ‘I’ve only been in the country for three months.’
‘The people will vote for who they are told to vote for. People are more afraid of the Azulitos than they have ever been of the army. You shouldn’t underestimate the terror we inspire. Many people see us as the voice of our ancestors, as an expression of the anger of the indigenous population. All nonsense, of course, but it has a powerful effect on the uneducated mind. And together we will bully and bribe and terrorise the entire population into voting for you. You need have no concerns. We have vast resources. Most of the independent banking sector is in our hands. We have registered thousands of phantom voters. We have corrupted hundreds of supposedly incorruptible election officials. Voters will be intimidated at polling stations. Local radio stations will broadcast anti–government propaganda. We will even burn effigies of Emilio Títere. We will make sure no one is in any doubt: if you don’t win this election, then we’ll take control anyway.’
‘And what does General Malvado make of all this?’
‘Absolutely nothing. He knows something odd is going on, but he probably thinks the Azulitos are acting out of spite. In any case, it’s far too late for him to do anything about it. I’m afraid we’re already two steps ahead. The general will be removed from office as will all of the provisional government. Rest assured, by this time on Wednesday morning you and I will be declared the officially elected government of San Doloroso.’
Viscoso made it all sound so simple. ‘And this is what you’ve been planning all along?’
‘This is what I have been planning since the day Ladrón died. Since the day he was murdered.’
‘You think the general was responsible for that?’
‘I know he was responsible. The Americans felt El Hombrito was becoming a liability. They supported the coup. They may even have helped to arrange it. I failed to protect him, but his death will not go unpunished.’ Viscoso was starting to sound like a real Azulito.
‘But why bring me into it? What have I got to do with any of this?
Viscoso smiled again. ‘My dear friend, nothing at all. You were simply in the right place at the right time. Originally, I had a deal with Luis Cuerpo. He was going to stand as the Azulito candidate. If anything happened to him, Juan Federico Pelele would have been equally corruptible. They were our stooges. And as both men were being financed by the Junta, nobody in the government suspected a thing. But then they were both killed and I had to act quickly to find a replacement. And that’s when I found you. We’d already met once, so I knew what a reasonable fellow you were.’ By “reasonable”, I took it, Viscoso meant “easily manipulable”. ‘And it was a simple matter to persuade the general to accept you. He trusts me implicitly, you see. By then, I’d already made approaches towards Antonio Fracaso. It always helps to keep your options open. With the opposition on board, Luis Cuerpo would have had an easy ride. When he died, I simply switched heads. But I knew you wouldn’t go along with things if you didn’t believe you were doing the right thing. So, I told Fracaso what he wanted to hear, he passed it on to you and you went along with it all. And so here we all are today. And just when you thought the time had come to resign, you find out it’s no longer necessary.’
‘It can’t work. It can’t possibly work.’
‘It can. And it will, I assure you. Everything is arranged. The Azulitos will make it happen. They are out in force even as we speak. My dear friend, you are about to be elevated to the highest position in the land. Think of all the possibilities that will give us. Together we can forge a better future for this country.’
‘You think you can control the Azulitos?’
‘Their leaders and I are of the same mind. The Escoria are extremely superstitious. I can use that, as El Hombrito used it.’
‘But they tried to murder Antonio Fracaso. If he’d been killed the election would have been called off and none of this would have been possible.’
‘The bomb blast was never intended to kill Fracaso. It was set off by remote control. We waited until he was out of the way before we gave the signal. There was no possibility of him coming to harm.’
‘You knew all along? All those people who were killed in Edificio Libertad.’
‘Casualties of war. They do say truth is always the first victim.’
‘And now you expect me just to go along with all this?’
‘My dear fellow, it’s in your interests as well as mine. But don’t concern yourself unduly. You’ll simply be a figurehead. You won’t have to do very much except make the odd speech, smile for the cameras and do what we tell you.’
Put like that, it all sounded very straightforward. But did Viscoso really believe I would do what he said? ‘Look. I’m sorry...’
The civil servant held up a hand. ‘I am afraid you don’t really have any choice. You have one major weakness, you see. You value life. You value your own life and you value the lives of people that you love. It is a typical Western failing. In San Doloroso, we believe in death. Death gives meaning to life. And the threat of death is all that we require.’
‘That’s it? You’re just going to threaten me.’
‘Oh my dear fellow, I wouldn’t dream of threatening you. I need only inform you of the truth. We are going to take a journey together, you and I. To City Hall, tomorrow, to cast your vote. You will be under observation every step of the way. If you attempt to escape or make the slightest move to disrupt proceedings, then, regrettably, you will be shot dead immediately. That is not a threat. It is a simple statement of fact.’
‘But if you need me as much as you say, then...’
‘We need your cooperation. Make no mistake, my friend: we are going to take over San Doloroso. The Escoria are going to reclaim their country. The Junta will be decapitated. All five leaders of the provisional government will be assassinated – including General Malvado – and we will assume complete control. Tomorrow. While everyone else is out voting for you. We would love to have you on board. It would be so much nicer if we could make it seem like we were taking over in the name of democracy. But it isn’t compulsory.’ Viscoso stared at me without blinking. ‘We’ll do it with or without you. If you make trouble, we’ll kill you. It’s a simple as that.’ Viscoso clicked his fingers.
Two guards entered the room. They were dragging a screaming, spitting woman. It was Lolita Corazón.
Viscoso grinned smugly. ‘And we will also kill your friend.’
~ ~ ~
A squad car arrived at the home of Señor and Señora Cariñoso at twelve thirty–one pm. Neighbours in the flat above had reported a burning smell emanating from the apartment. The frying pan on the hob had virtually melted, though nothing else in the kitchen had caught fire. Not that it would have made much difference to the kindly couple who had provided Lolita Corazón with a refuge. They were past caring now.
Antonio Fracaso must have learnt of Lolita’s abduction shortly after this. It was the final nail in the coffin. Fracaso knew the government would force me to cooperate with them if they had possession of the girl. He also knew the Azulitos were campaigning on behalf of the PRD. The election would not be a two horse race and there was a real possibility that the Freedom Party would lose. Unless, of course, something were to happen to me.
It is impossible to say for certain, but it may have been at this point that Antonio Fracaso – setting aside all his principles – decided to have me killed.
Chapter Thirty-One
After three gruelling months of campaigning, election day had finally arrived. Hundreds of polling stations across the country were preparing for an unprecedented avalanche of voters. People were queuing up outside the stations long before nine o’clock, when polling actually began. In the towns and villages, Azulito hordes were dragging people from their beds to deposit them at the voting halls
. Most of the electorate were given little choice in the matter. Elsewhere, in larger towns and in the cities, the army and the police were equally persuasive. The government, the Azulitos and the opposition were all bent on ensuring a record turnout; but a turnout that would serve their own narrow interests.
There had been elections before in San Doloroso. After independence, there had been a brief stab at democracy but the newly elected government had not lasted long. A rapid succession of incompetent dictators had followed, plunging the country into chaos and financial ruin. If nothing else, Miguel Vicente Ladrón had brought stability to San Doloroso and a much-needed period of administrative continuity. But there had been no question of holding elections during El Hombrito’s long reign.
The large–scale corruption endemic to San Doloroso did not exclude returning officers and vote–counters, despite rigorous checks carried out by the international commission. Azulito money had bought the assistance of many a returning officer and the Junta had likewise ensured a few of its own men were in place. Even some members of Antonio Fracaso’s Freedom Party were later proven to be involved in fraudulent vote registration.
But for all the abuses, once people were inside the polling booths there was nothing to stop them voting for whomever they chose. Individual votes could not be traced. Ballot papers were distributed randomly. Between the booth and the box, it would be a disciplined secret ballot. And so, despite many reservations, the Electoral Commission was expecting a vote that would in some small way reflect the opinions of the people themselves. It was at least a step up from absolute dictatorship.
In the capital city, there were several dozen polling stations. The largest of them was in the Plaza Mayor. The Ayuntamiento had been opened up to the masses. It was here that the political leaders would gather at three o’clock to cast their votes in the full glare of world attention.
The streets were lined with soldiers and police. Recording devices were everywhere. BBC cameramen were standing side by side with reporters from Canal 7, La Voz and Radio Libertad. As the clock at the summit of the Catedral chimed nine o’clock, the polling centre opened its doors and a stream of the great and the good entered the Ayuntamiento to cast their vote on the future of San Doloroso.
General Federico Hernandez Malvado was emerging from a hot bath. It was a gloriously sunny day – the rains were not due for another three months – but a cool morning breeze swept across the fields of his estate as Malvado wrapped a towel around his legs and walked out onto the patio. A trail of water splashed behind him as he crossed the marble floor.
Charlotte McBride was already dressed and eating. She had been for a swim and was now taking in the early morning sunshine. It was the best time of the day to be up and about. She was not a natural early riser, but the rhythms of life in a tropical country had a logic to them that was difficult to resist.
The servants had laid out a traditional breakfast. There was fresh orange juice and a pot of hot coffee. A large pineapple had been given pride of place on the table. The fruit came fresh from the general’s own crop. He always insisted on eating his own produce. It was less easy to tamper with. The servant cut the pineapple into smaller chunks and poured out some coffee from the pot. Malvado took a seat. Charlotte lifted up the plate and offered it across. He gestured for her to take the first slice.
Old habits die hard.
Charlotte grabbed a chunk of the pineapple and sucked at the rich flesh.
Malvado waved the servants away and took a sip of coffee. The black liquid was numbingly hot, just as he liked it. He leaned back in his chair and gave a satisfied sigh. This was a man, seemingly, without a care in the world.
‘Are you going to go and vote today?’ Charlotte asked. It was a rhetorical question. If anyone didn’t need to go and vote it was General Federico Hernandez Malvado.
‘The result is a foregone conclusion,’ he declared, with unnecessary arrogance. ‘The vote is a formality.’
‘It’ll be strange though, watching everybody queuing up to vote for people we’re always having around for dinner.’ Charlotte laughed. She had never been this close to the centre of power and, despite herself, she was starting to find it rather exhilarating. ‘I might pop down to the Plaza Mayor later on and have a look,’ she said, scratching her neck. ‘It’ll be quite historic, really.’
General Malvado put down his coffee cup and frowned unexpectedly. ‘I don’t want you going near the Ayuntamiento this afternoon.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Why not?’ It wasn’t like Freddie to forbid her anything. She wasn’t altogether sure she appreciated his tone. ‘I have a right to vote, just like anybody else.’
‘It...might not be safe,’ the general murmured.
Charlotte put down her glass. ‘Of course it’ll be safe, darling. Half the police force are going to be there. And the army. All your political friends. And dear Emilio...’
General Malvado leaned across the table and grabbed her hands. ‘I mean it, Lottie. I don’t want you going anywhere near City Hall.’ His eyes locked onto her face.
Charlotte frowned. There was something rather unnerving in his expression. ‘Nothing’s going to happen, is it?’ she asked.
Malvado looked away.
~ ~ ~
On my second morning in captivity, the guards were a little more respectful towards me. I was allowed a lie–in – not much of bonus, admittedly, when you’re sleeping in a cupboard – and then given a hearty breakfast in an otherwise deserted canteen. Washing facilities were also provided and by the time I had completed my ablutions a suit had been laid out for me on a nearby desk. The Junta – or the Azulitos, or whoever it was who was forcing me to betray the Freedom Party – at least wanted me to look good while I did it. If everything went according to their plan, by the end of polling I would be declared President of San Doloroso.
It could never happen. Viscoso was delusional. But if I played along with it all I could still do very real harm to Antonio Fracaso. On the other hand, if I didn’t play along I could do a great deal of harm to myself and to Lolita Corazón. The civil servant had made it quite clear what would happen at the slightest hint of betrayal. I would be shot dead and Lolita would have her throat cut. I had dodged bullets before, but the only way I could protect Lolita was to do exactly what Viscoso asked.
They were holding the girl in a separate room. Actually, it was more of a broom cupboard. She had been tied up and locked away to prevent any further trouble. Lolita had been more spirited in her defiance than I had.
Viscoso let me see the girl one last time before I left. She was bound and gagged, but her eyes lit up when she saw me.
I made up my mind then and there. Lolita had suffered too much already on my account. I would play along and to hell with the consequences.
There was a car waiting out in the street.
~ ~ ~
Dick Carter spent the morning in Ardiente, interviewing voters at the town’s two main polling stations. Father José put in an appearance at the second, but he was reluctant to go inside. He pointed to the Azulitos and military men hanging around at the entrance. ‘This is not democracy,’ the priest affirmed, with understandable conviction.
After lunch, Dick returned to the Intercontinental Hotel to pick up his satchel before heading into the centre of town. He wanted to arrive at the Plaza Mayor in plenty of time to witness the gathering of the party leaders at the Ayuntamiento; and he wanted to bring my vase with him.
Dick had met up with Nacho the day before and the boy had delivered the urn as promised. The robbery had gone off without a hitch. It was good to know at least one thing had gone right in the past forty–eight hours.
Whatever supernatural influence the Azulitos believed the ashes of Juanita Malone possessed, the men in blue could no longer kid themselves she was acting on their behalf.
The telephone rang as Dick was preparing to leave the hotel room. He picked up the receiver. At first, he didn’t recognise the voice on the other end.
Lolita Corazón was still locked up in the broom cupboard. Lopez unchained the door and went inside. The civil servant must have informed him that the girl was there. How long he had known that he and Viscoso were on the same side is anybody’s guess. But it was clear that they were now working together. Lopez was an Azulito in all but name and Viscoso was leading the organisation back to glory.
Lolita had never thought to see the inspector again. It was odd that he would take time out on polling day to visit her. It was not a social call, clearly, but there had to be more to it than simple lust. Lopez was not a man capable of showing tenderness, however, and if there was any feeling buried deep beneath the surface, Lolita was not aware of it. For her part, she felt nothing but disgust for him.
Afterwards, he retied the girl, then kissed her briefly on the lips. There was a strange look in his eye. At the time, Lolita thought nothing of it.
In many ways, the visit was an unexpected kindness; not in intent, but in the good fortune of its consequences. Up until then, the three officers guarding Lolita had kept their distance. They had had a hell of a job keeping control of the young woman once she’d recovered from the anaesthetic. Now, seeing her subservient to the inspector, they decided to join in the fun.
This was a mistake on their part.
The men entered the broom cupboard with grins on their faces. Their intention was obvious: they would untie the girl and make use of her one by one. Lolita played along until she got out of the cupboard. Two of the officers had discarded their weapons. The third was scarcely paying attention to the rifle at his side. When Lolita launched herself at him, he was taken completely by surprise. She grabbed the rifle and struck him over the head with it, then pulled the loop over his neck and aimed the gun at the other two men before they had time to react.