Free Flames Coming out of the Top by Norman Collins Page A

port before a meal. Will you allow me to introduce you to a very gentle, elegant cigar?”
    â€œThank you.” He was surprised at himself for accepting. What he really wanted was to start work right away. But somehow the gin-fizz seemed to have removed the top layer of urgency from the morning. He saw now that it would be far more sensible to accept Señor Muras’s gentle, elegant cigar and hear what he had to say for himself. His best tactics for the moment were to play a waiting game and give Señor Muras a chance to let something unguarded slip out in the ordinary course of conversation.
    â€œPermit me.” Señor Muras took Dunnett’s cigar and laid it carefully on a tray. Then he forced a new one on him. It was not quite so thick as the old one but considerably longer. On the band was the portrait of some national liberator long since executed by some other national liberator.
    â€œBut this is as big as the old one,” Dunnett objected. “This is a very big cigar.”
    â€œThe difference lies in the leaf,” Señor Muras replied. “It could be as short as your little finger and still be a heavy cigar. These are very mild and gentle. A schoolgirl could smoke them. They are ladies’ cigars, in fact.”
    Dunnett lit the cigar with diffidence. It seemed scarcely less pungent than its predecessor; there was the whole lurid history of Cuba in every puff. He moistened his throat with the rest of the gin-fizz.
    Señor Muras poured him out another drink and suddenly became very serious. “Mr. Dunnett,” he said slowly and intently, “I want to ask you a favour.”
    â€œWhat is it?” Dunnet enquired.
    Señor Muras cleared his throat. “You have been sent out here to discover any possible discrepancies, is that not so?” he asked.
    Dunnett nodded.
    â€œThen may I ask a favour of you, I repeat? Something that may not be easy but would be very gracious of you.”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œIf you discover any discrepances do not report them. That is all I ask, but I ask that with all my heart. I will see that it is worth your while.”
    Dunnett rose to his feet. “Are you trying to bribe me?” he asked.
    Señor Muras coughed. “I was not offering you anything,” he replied. “But I shall be happy to reward you if you wish. I only did not wish to offend you.”
    â€œIf I find any discrepancies I shall report them immediately,” Dunnett replied. “That’s what I came for, and that’s what I’m going to do. And from what I know I’m going to find plenty.”
    â€œThat is precisely what I fear,” Señor Muras replied. “The clerk who was dismissed, remember. I do not know what else he has done. For all I know he may have juggled with balances to suit himself. It will take months to discover.”
    â€œIt won’t take me months,” Dunnett said ominously. “Not if the books are in order.”
    â€œBut how can we be sure even of that?” Señor Muras enquired helplessly. “He was my confidential clerk. I entrusted him with everything and now he is in a prison cell. It is all very dreadful and upsetting. That is why I had hoped you could have told me about the defalcations and spared dear Mr. Govern in London.”
    â€œWhat do you want to know for?”
    â€œIn order that I might make good the deficiency out of my own pocket.”
    â€œThen if you’re so eager to make good why don’t you settle the accounts themselves?”
    â€œI want to, but they won’t let me?”
    â€œWon’t let you?”
    â€œNo. My pride forbids it. Every time I make myself ready to pay, another letter arrives from England. Andsuch letters. As though I were a thief, a common swindler. Cannot they understand that such methods are no use with Juan Muras? I tell you that I would sooner go to jail than pay a bill in those