Free Midnight Harvest by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page B

heard. “I need to know more about this Eduardo Deshielo. He has broken the law, and that may make him useful to me.” He was thinking aloud, and he did not invite any response from Liebre.
    An uncomfortable silence settled between them that lasted for the better part of two minutes. Finally Liebre said, “I have found out that le Comte has property in Córdoba. There is a house that has been in his family for some time, according to what his manservant told Señor Echevarria. The house is supposed to be in the old part of the city, built on the foundations of another house that was torn down centuries ago. His manager, Lazaro Flojasilla, sends regular reports to the Hotel. Also, he often has letters from England, from a firm of solicitors.”
    “So you mentioned,” said Zapatilla. “As to the property manager, we have already spoken to him. The house le Comte keeps in Córdoba sustained some damage in a recent bombing incident—nothing very bad, but enough to require repairs—that accorded us an opportunity to learn a bit more about the holding.” He said nothing more, savoring the frustrated expression Liebre tried unsuccessfully to hide; Zapatilla decided to drop a crumb for Liebre. “The house is a minor matter. His business there is my primary concern: I have been reviewing his airline assembly plant’s records; he is very up-to-date on innovations. And he has a head for business, I will give him that.”
    “It could be … he may convert his earnings to jewels,” Liebre ventured, making an effort to smile; he wanted to restore Zapatilla’s good opinion of him.
    “It is possible,” said Zapatilla.
    “And prudent,” said Liebre. “Just consider the advantages. He can carry the jewels anywhere, they will not diminish in value, no matter what becomes of the currency, they have value everywhere in the world he might decide to go, and they are less conspicuous than cash, and more reliable than bank drafts.”
    “This is so,” said Zapatilla, who was not so convinced by his own argument as he pretended to be. “You may be on to something.”
    Glad to be able to improve his standing with Zapatilla, Liebre enlarged upon his thoughts. “If he has jewels enough, he could travel without difficulty, and establish himself with minimal effort.”
    “I wouldn’t go so far as that,” said Zapatilla.
    “He could leave España easily, and most countries would be glad to have a rich industrialist settle inside their borders. Some of the other countries may be offering him favorable conditions to move.” Liebre was being more confident again. “Never mind his title, his riches make him useful for any nation.”
    “It is a sad commentary on our modern world,” said Zapatilla, dismissing the issue with a turn of his hand just as Claude Rains might have done it. “Have you any reason to suppose he may be planning to leave? Has he said anything, or his manservant?”
    “I can’t recall any such suggestion,” said Liebre, becoming a bit more animated. “If you like, I can try to find out as soon as he returns.”
    Zapatilla considered this. “I think it may be more important to watch him. If he is going to leave, he may do so without warning.” He achieved a dry chuckle. “He manufactures airplanes—who is to say he won’t fly out of España?”
    “I have no reason to believe he is a pilot,” said Liebre.
    With a little sigh that his humor was unappreciated, Zapatilla said, “No, he is not. We have that on the testimony of his two pilots—Blaz Riosalado and Raul Telas—who have already told me that Saint-Germain dislikes flying; he claims he doesn’t want to be far from the earth.” This observation was accompanied by an overly ingratiating smile.
    Liebre managed to laugh this time. “He may be wise.”
    “His airplanes have excellent reputations. I don’t think he would have any reason to hesitate to fly in one,” said Zapatilla austerely. “And no one can claim he isn’t aware of the