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

yourself?”
    “Yes.”
    “I do not know you, señor. To let a stranger have a car, it is a risk.”
    “l am a good driver.”
    “I do not doubt it.”
    “Señora Torres told me to come to you.”
    Duero’s expression changed immediately. Suddenly he seemed to be a great deal happier. “You are staying at the Phoenix?”
    “Yes. My name is Cade.”
    “Ah, that is different” Duero got off the box and waddled towards Cade. He wiped his right hand on the seat of his trousers and held it out to Cade. Cade shook it It felt like a thick slice of raw bacon that had been left out in the sun. “Anyone that is recommended by Señora Torres, him I trust Do you wish to go far?”
    “No, not far.”
    Duero looked as though he would have liked to ask Cade where he was going, but he suppressed the desire. He waddled across to a Citroen saloon, the kind that the Citroen people had turned out in tens of thousands to populate the roads of France, not the new model but the old one that looked like a car.
    Duero kicked the tyres, each one in turn, as though to demonstrate that he was above favouritism. He put both hands on the side of the body and rocked it on its springs, producing a harsh, grating noise.
    “Good car.”
    “How much?” Cade asked.
    Duero got into the driving seat, started the engine. He revved up and thick smoke poured from the exhaust He switched off and got out He patted the bonnet with his hand as if it had been a god.
    “Good engine too.”
    “How much?”
    Duero pursed his lips and looked like a man who is reluctant to bring sordid financial considerations into a pleasant conversation but is forced to do so.
    “Fifty bolivars a day—and the petrol.”
    “Fill the tank,” Cade said.

SEVEN
THE SNAKE PIT
    I T W AS not, Cade had to admit, as good a car as the Mercedes he had travelled in the previous day. The upholstery had suffered from the ravages of time and hard use, and there were a lot of noises that had certainly not been there when the car had been younger. These noises became louder when they had left the town and were out on the road that led to the Gomara place. Fortunately, the engine, despite the exhaust smoke, seemed to be in fair condition, and though the steering had a nasty habit of pulling over to the left, Cade soon got used to this and fought it with appropriate pressure on the wheel.
    It was about mid-morning when he came to the road junction. He made the right turn and drove at a moderate speed towards the gate in the fence that ringed the house and outbuildings. José must have seen him coming for he had already released the padlock when Cade pulled up. He swung the gate open and walked to the car, peering in at Cade as though to make certain it was in fact he. After a momentary examination heappeared to be satisfied if not pleased.
    “I have orders to let you in, señor.”
    “Thank you,” Cade said.
    “You do not have to thank me.” José’s tone and his expression seemed to indicate that he regarded any thanks as an insult. “It is not my decision. For myself I would have left the gate locked; but I have to obey orders.”
    Cade wondered why the man should be so ill-tempered. Perhaps he was still smarting from the lash of Della Lindsay’s riding-switch and associated Cade with that humiliation. Or perhaps he was just naturally ill-disposed to the rest of mankind. Anyway, Cade was not bothered about José; he was more interested in meeting Gomara.
    He let in the clutch and drove slowly through the gateway, past the big stable building and up to the front of the house. The girl had also seen him coming, and it was she who opened the door to him.
    She said : “I see you got yourself a car.”
    “It was either that or a horse.”
    She closed the door behind him. “I had a hard time persuading Carlos to see you. You wouldn’t believe. You aren’t carrying a gun, are you?”
    “A gun?”
    “He told me to make sure. He doesn’t like men who carry guns.”
    “Who