Free The Rodriguez Affair (1970) by James Pattinson Page A

ask for it and you should not have done it.”
    “Go away,” Cade said.
    Torres opened the door. “I will go now, but later there may be a reckoning, and then you may be sorry for what you have just done to me.”
    He went out of the room and closed the door very softly behind him.
     
    Cade saw no more of Jorge Torres that evening, but he saw Maria Torres. He wanted her advice.
    “I wish to hire a car. Do you know where I can get one in San Borja?”
    “A car with a driver or one to drive yourself?”
    “To drive myself.”
    Señora Torres considered the matter for a moment, then said : “You had better go and see Martin Duero. He may be able to provide you with what you need.”
    “Where do I find this Señor Duero?”
    Señora Torres went into detailed directions. They sounded complicated. “Do you think you can find your way now?”
    “I doubt it.”
    “Perhaps it would be better if I found a boy to take you there.”
    “I think it would be much better,” Cade said. “Can you do that?”
    “But of course, señor.”
    “Tell him to be here after breakfast tomorrow.”
     
    The boy had been burnt so deeply by the sun that he was almost black. His name was Pablo and he was ten years old. When he grew up, so he informed Cade in all seriousness, he was going to emigrate to the UnitedStates and become an astronaut. He was fascinated by the stars and space travel.
    “You think they will take me, señor?”
    “Why not, Pablo? They’re always looking for good men. Maybe you’ll be the first man to land on Venus.”
    The boy’s eyes shone like precious stones. “I cannot wait to grow up. Why don’t the years go faster?”
    “One day you’ll wish they didn’t go so fast,” Cade said.
    They crossed the Plaza, walked through a narrow alleyway where some plump, black-haired women were gossiping, and came out on to what could have been the main street of the town. There were some shops, some motor lorries, a few cars, people.
    “This way, señor,” Pablo said.
    They turned to the left, continued on for about two hundred yards, then plunged down another alleyway and came suddenly on a patch of waste ground where an old Chrysler convertible had come to the end of its journeys. It stood there rusting gently, with no tyres and the hood nothing but a skeleton. Some small fry were sitting in it and they were not even squabbling; perhaps in imagination they were driving down the shining streets of Caracas with all the glittering shops and nightclubs and hotels on either side.
    “They’re going places,” Cade said.
    Pablo looked infinitely contemptuous. “Children’s games,” he said with all the superiority of one who was ten years old and going to be an astronaut.
    It turned out to be a rough timber building with no paint and a corrugated iron roof. It had the smell of oil and rubber that you get wherever motor vehiclescongregate. There were half a dozen cars of various ages and conditions, none very new, and there were two Italian scooters with worn saddles and smooth tyres. A man was working at a bench on the left as you went in; he was filing a piece of metal held in a vice and drops of sweat were falling on to it from his forehead. He was not much more than five feet tall and as fat as a leg of pork. He was standing on a box to give him added height.
    “That is Señor Duero,” Pablo said.
    “Thanks, Pablo. You’ve been a lot of help.” Cade felt in his pocket, pulled out some coins and gave them to the boy. “I can manage now. See you on Venus.”
    “On Venus,” the boy said. He stowed the coins in his pocket and went away whistling.
    Duero stopped filing and looked at Cade. He did not get off the box; perhaps it gave him confidence.
    “You want something, señor?”
    “A car,” Cade said.
    Duero said, a note of surprise and hope in his voice :
    “You wish to buy a car?”
    “Not to buy. I want to hire one.”
    Duero looked both disappointed and doubtful. “You wish to drive this car