Plantation A Legal Thriller

by J M S Macfarlane

  Chapter 62

  Raeburn said “We’d better go. You said you’d be leaving Buenos Aires today. That’s good. I think it’s a smart move. The sooner you’re back in Houston, the better you’ll feel.”

  “I have one more stop in Brazil to make before going to the US,” said Ashby. “Maybe I'll see you next time you're in Texas.”

  “I'll be sure to look you up.”

  When Ashby had returned to his hotel, on opening the door of his room, the movement of a shadow alerted him that someone was waiting for him. He knew it could be anyone – the army, the socialists, the security service.

  “Have you finished cleaning the room ?” he said, pretending it was one of the hotel maids and that he was aware of the unwelcome guest.

  To his surprise, the girl from the cafe calmly stepped out. She was pointing a gun at him and her face was cut and bruised.

  “We meet again,” he said.

  “Do not move, Senor. Since I saw you in the cafe, I was arrested and tortured by soldiers. They knew about the papers. They knew of our meeting. They wanted to know how I got them. You betrayed me.”

  “No, I didn’t betray you. But you’re right, they knew all about it. I almost got arrested myself.”

  “You told them – you are lying.”

  “I’m not lying – I don’t know how they found out but it wasn’t from me – maybe this room or the telephone are bugged. The documents were planted on you. They wanted you to lead them to the guerrillas.”

  “You are lying.”

  “I was taken to see a Major Dominguez at the Army Command.”

  “Why were you there ? You are one of them.”

  “I was taken there by an American who knows Dominguez. He said I should give them the papers back. They made me surrender them.”

  “American ? Ha – CIA. If he knows Dominguez, for sure he is CIA. They are everywhere in South America, fighting against the peasants and the workers. They are murderers.”

  “Raeburn CIA ? Well, I wouldn’t say I trust him....”

  “And Dominguez – do you know of him ?”

  “Only that he’s in the Security Service.”

  “He is a sadist – a torturer and a murderer. He is evil. He gives orders to the assassins who kill anyone brave enough to speak out against the junta.”

  “But why did you come here ? How did you get into my room ? What do you want ?”

  “I came here to punish you. You betrayed me – but I....I don’t have any choice, I must trust you.....and I am tired and in pain. I got in because I have friends in the hotel. They let me in. We all work against the junta. They are sending our country to hell. They must be stopped. Did you read what they will do ? They are starting a war – soon.”

  “Yes but surely, it isn’t safe for you here ?”

  “They will not look here.”

  “I wouldn’t say that. If they knew about our meeting at the cafe, they will know you’re here.”

  “I must get away. You will drive me across the city.”

  “Put the gun away.”

  “Give me your word that you will take me where I want to go – and that you will not call the police.”

  “Alright, I promise. But I don’t even know your name.”

  “I am Rosa.”

  Just then, there was a knock at the door. The woman said nothing but signalled she would be watching him from the bathroom and that she would shoot him if he gave her away.

  He opened the door. Parle du diable – it was Raeburn.

  “I thought you should know that the army is searching this area for the girl. I think you should leave right away.”

  “I don’t have much to pack, I always travel light. I should be gone within the hour.”

  “Fine, let me know your plans.”

  During the conversation, Ashby noticed Raeburn’s eyes looking past him once or twice, into the room.

  “Thanks for calling. We’ll meet again in Houston.”

  “Adios. Safe journey.”

  As soon as Raeburn was gone, Ashby went to Rosa and told her that they should leave without further delay. They decided that as soon as he was ready, she would take the fire escape stairs down to the hotel car park in the basement of the building and they would go from there. He would go to the reception, pay his bill and check whether anyone was following them.

  After he'd packed all of his things together and was in the hotel lobby, he could see police patrol cars cruising up and down the main thoroughfare and buildings being searched. He settled his bill and noticed Raeburn standing outside the front entrance. The American had also spotted him earlier, getting out of the lift.

  As soon Ashby reached the basement and his car, Rosa appeared out of the half-light. She still had the gun and appeared unsure of him.

  “I think it would be safer if you kept down in the back so that no-one will see you,” he said.

  “My gun will be pointed at your head. You will drive to this address. I will direct you,” and she gave him a slip of paper with a street number and a name on it. The place where they were going, was on the other side of the city where there were shanty towns dotted around the urban fringe.

  Every so often on the way, she raised her head to look out of the rear window of the car.

  “We are followed. Drive faster.”

  “Volkswagen Beetles aren’t built for speed. I can try and give them the slip around this next bend.”

  By the time he’d thought he’d shaken off their pursuers, they had arrived in one of the most run-down streets. The dwellings were makeshift affairs, constructed from rusty pieces of iron sheeting, discarded wood and anything which could hold it together. The street was a dirt road covered in rubbish and there was the smell of rotting waste, lingering in the air. It was evident there was no proper sanitation.

  She told him to park in a deserted siding, then to get out of the car.

  “Quick,” she said. “In here,” and they ran to the portico of a deserted shack. Almost as soon as they were hidden, another car – a Chevrolet, slowly drove past with two men inside.

  “Another set up,” said Ashby, “like the documents you gave me. They think you’re going to your friends in the mountains.”

  “They will have a surprise.”

  “Where will you go ? They told me I had to leave the country. I was thinking of going to Brazil.....”

  “Brazil ? It may be possible, I have friends there. But later. First, you must take me across the border to Uruguay, it is the closest crossing point to leave Argentina.”

  “Uruguay ? Well, it’s as good a place as any, I suppose. But how ?”

  “I will show you later. We must go somewhere safe for the next few hours, to begin with. This way,” and she led him a few houses along, down another street and then knocked at the door of a deserted hut. From inside, there was a glimmer of light from under the door. After a few minutes, the door opened. Inside, everything was in darkness apart from an old woman holding a lamp. The girl embraced her and they were led to a back room where there were only some decrepit chairs and a table. The house had bare floorboards, no electricity, no running water and no lighting. On a fuel stove was a pot of stew and the old woman set out two plates and told them to eat.

  “Maria is a friend. We can stay here for a few hours until it is safe to leave. We should go at around three thirty in the morning.”

  As they ate, the women chatted in Spanish. From the tone of the conversation and the expressions on their faces, they were worried and distressed. Later, Ashby and the girl slept for a few hours on some rough matting on the floor and after three o’clock, the old woman woke them.