They got into bed in Mary's suite and held each other in silence, tired and wanting nothing more than this closeness, until Mary said, "It's coming to an end. I can feel it."

He said, "Are you a worrier?"

She said, "No, not usually."

He said, in a soothing way, "You know what's coming to an end and what isn't. I don't think we have a choice, we're stuck with each other. But it's gonna be a lot harder for you than it is for me. I mean if we plan to see each other."

"We have to," Mary said.

"Good."

She said, "I've never done anything like this before. Have you?"

"When I was married? No."

"Did you ever have an affair with a married woman?"

"No."

"Then you've never done it either. We're amateurs. I've never even thought about it." She paused. "No, that's a lie. I used to look at you and think about it a lot."

"I did too."

"I used to stare at you and when you'd look over I'd say let's get out of here and go somewhere, be together."

"I would have gone."

"Would you?"

"I wanted to."

"Boy, we've come a long way." She said then, "Where will we meet?"

"You can always come to the Coconuts. Andres's sister and her boyfriend love it."

"We're not like that, are we?"

"I was kidding."

"We're not shacking up ...Are we?"

"No, there's a big difference."

"G.o.d, Moran, I'm gonna have trouble handling this Sneaking around, not telling anybody. I've got to get it settled with Andres, but I don't want to involve you."

"He was suspicious before he even had a reason."

"He's not dumb. But I've got to make him understand why I'm leaving and that it's got nothing to do with you."

He said, "What about your friends at Casa de Campo?"

She said, "Oh, my G.o.d."

"You forgot to call them."

"I haven't even thought about them. When I left the emba.s.sy party I said I might change my plans 125.

and Marilyn, one of the girls, gave me a look-ahha, have fun. I'm pretty sure they have an idea what's going on, but you're right, I ought to call, get our stories straight."

"Are they close friends?"

"Not really, but we get along, play tennis a few times a week."

"They wouldn't call your home-I mean to see if you're there."

"No, but I'd better let them know where I am." Mary said then, "s.h.i.t. They went home today."

"Is that a problem?"

"I don't know. I hope not."

"Call one of them tomorrow, at home."

"I'd better. How long are we staying?"

"You mean it's up to me? You don't sound too worried."

"I am though. I'm starting to get nervous. And this is just the beginning, isn't it?"

Moran went to sleep; maybe for only a few minutes, he wasn't sure. Lying on his side he held Mary's back curled into him, his knees fitting into the bend of hers. He said, "Mary?"

"What?" She was close to sleep.

"Rafi's left-handed. You said tonight you were sitting with two southpaws and he didn't know what a southpaw was.

"Remember?"

She didn't answer.

Moran opened his eyes to see the balcony in sunlight, the sheer draperies stirring, puffing in the breeze. Facing away from Mary he felt her move and get out of bed saying, "Yuuuk, I drank too much wine." Moving toward the bathroom her voice said, "What time is he going to call?"

"I don't know, maybe he won't ...Mary?"

"What?"

"The guy I shot was right-handed."

She said, "You can remember that?"

He heard the bathroom door close. He lay staring at the clear sky framed within the balcony, hearing the water running in the bathroom, thinking of the swimming pool then and winter ballplayers. The bathroom door opened again and Mary's voice said, "I forgot. I brushed my teeth and drank the water." She came into his view, her slim body in the nightgown clearly defined against the sunlight. "If I'm gonna die I don't want it to be from drinking water."

Moran said, I can see him holding his weapon and he was right-handed. Somebody shoots at you you can close your eyes and see it anytime you want. He wasn't that far away."

She turned from the sunlight, eyebrows raised in question, her face clean and alive.

127.

"He was wearing a Cincinnati Reds baseball cap," Moran said, "an old one. I can still see him."

In Boca Chica, twenty miles from Santo Domingo and twenty years ago, the home of a wealthy family close to Trujillo was confiscated soon after his death, turned into a clubhouse by the sea and pa.s.sed along to a succession of young men who drank rum and looked for girls and sold goods on the black market. The house now stood in an old section of the resort community that was decaying, losing itself to debris and tropical vegetation. Nearby was a beachfront cafe that had once been a gas station but now seemed dirtier with its litter of paper cups and ice-cream wrappers that were never picked up. There was blue Spanish tile in the men's room where, to Rafi's recollection, the toilet had never flushed. Late in the morning he would walk from the house to the cafe for his coffee or sometimes a Coca-Cola and sit outside beneath the portico at a metal table. He made phone calls from the cafe and brought girls here that he picked up on the beach, to buy them treats and eventually talk business. In an informal way the cafe was his office.

This morning he was interviewing a girl by the name of Loret. She was seventeen and had some good points, some not so good. She was attractive, she seemed intelligent enough-at least not out of the cane-but she was sullen; her normal expression was a frown, almost a scowl.

"Smile," Rafi said.

Sitting with her can of Seven-Up, Loret bared small teeth. Her smile seemed defensive.

"Relax and do it again ...That's better. Now relax your smile very slowly ...There. That's the expression you want on your face. Very nice. And sit up straight; don't slouch like that."

For a girl so small her b.r.e.a.s.t.s seemed to fill her T-shirt and pull her shoulders forward with their weight.

"What do you use on your hair?"

"A rinse, I make it lighter." It was a shade of henna, too bright for her tawny skin.

"Maybe we'll put it back the way it was."

"I like this," Loret said, touching her wiry hair. "I don't want to look Negro."

This increased her sullen expression and Rafi told her, again, to smile. "You want to be rich, you have to learn how to smile."

"What do I get?" the girl asked him.

"The world," Rafi said.

She could have it. He'd settle for a home in the emba.s.sy section of town, a few servants, an armed guard at the gate he'd present with a cigar each evening as he drove out in his Mercedes.

Rafi had been hustling since he was seventeen 129.

years old, since working the aduana aduana trade during the revolution of '65 when they looted the customhouse and the docks along the Ozama and sold everything on the black. TV sets, transistor radios, tires, j.a.panese bikes. It had been a training ground: learning how to get ahead when you begin with nothing. But he was up and down, spending half what he earned on his appearance, to look good in the hotel lobbies, and he had nothing of substance to rely on for a steady income. The few girls he managed worked when they felt like it and cheated him when they did. He'd threaten to cut them with a knife and they'd give him big innocent eyes. Loret's look was more sulk than innocence. trade during the revolution of '65 when they looted the customhouse and the docks along the Ozama and sold everything on the black. TV sets, transistor radios, tires, j.a.panese bikes. It had been a training ground: learning how to get ahead when you begin with nothing. But he was up and down, spending half what he earned on his appearance, to look good in the hotel lobbies, and he had nothing of substance to rely on for a steady income. The few girls he managed worked when they felt like it and cheated him when they did. He'd threaten to cut them with a knife and they'd give him big innocent eyes. Loret's look was more sulk than innocence.

"Push your lower lip out a little more."

"What do I get for this?"

He loved her more each time she said it. It was a sign she was moved by greed.

"Push the lip out ...Yes, a nice pout, I like that. Aw, you look so sad. Let me see a little more- you're filled with a great sorrow ...Yes, that's good. Begin to believe you're very depressed. You feel lost."

She said, "You better tell me what I get."

"Tell me what you want," Rafi said. "But not yet. You're too depressed. Something terrible happened to your sister that you loved very much..."

He c.o.c.ked his head at different angles to study the sad little girl. Not bad. The b.r.e.a.s.t.s were a bonus. She would have to be rehea.r.s.ed, of course; still, he knew he was very close to what he needed. Work with Loret the rest of the day. Present her sometime tomorrow.

In the meantime he should pay his respects. Call the Marine and tell him you're onto something but don't tell him what. You'll get back to him later this evening. Yes, you want to look industrious. You don't want to seem to be just hanging around.

He called the hotel and asked for 537.

When there was no answer he got the operator again and asked if Mr. Moran had left word where he would be.

The operator said, "Mr. Moran has checked out."

"What do you mean he's checked out? Give me the desk." He was sure there was a mistake. But when he spoke to the clerk he was told, "Yes, Mr. Moran has checked out." What about Mrs. Delaney? "Yes, she also."

Rafi said, "Did Moran leave a message-I'm sure he did-for Rafi Amado?"

The desk clerk said, "Just a moment." He came back to the phone and said, "No, there's nothing for you here."

HE TALKED TO JERRY for a few minutes, left him whistling "Zing Went the Strings of My Heart" and as soon as he was in the bungalow Nolen's smiling face appeared at the door. for a few minutes, left him whistling "Zing Went the Strings of My Heart" and as soon as he was in the bungalow Nolen's smiling face appeared at the door.

"You're home. When'd you get in?"

Moran said, "When did I get in? in?" He dropped his bag on the kitchen counter. "You're watching me get in." He had left Mary exactly fifty minutes ago at the Miami airport where they stood holding, kissing in a crowd of people, as though one was seeing the other off. She got in a taxi and Moran wandered through the parking lot looking for his car, the white Mercedes coupe he'd owned for seven years.

Nolen said, "You wouldn't have a cold one in that fridge there, would you?"

"If you left any," Moran said. "Take a look." He wanted him to leave so he could call Mary. It could be the wrong time to call but he missed her and he couldn't imagine de Boya answering the phone himself; a servant would answer. And pretty soon his voice would become familiar to the help. Here he is again for missus. He'd have to make something up, give himself, his voice, an ident.i.ty.

Nolen uncapped a couple Buds, placed one on the counter for Moran and slipped up onto a stool.

"I skimmed the swimming pool."

"Good."

"Didn't find any used condoms or anything. No alligators. The two broads from Fort Wayne left and the old couple with the Buick. In fact everybody's gone. We had a couple broads from Findlay, Ohio, work for Dow Chemical, they were here for three days. I asked 'em if they heard the one, the salesman from New York who's in Findlay, Ohio, on business and runs into a foxy broad at the Holiday Inn? One drink they're in the sack, it's beautiful. But this guy's a good Catholic so he looks up a church right away, goes to confession and the priest gives him five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys for his penance. He leaves for New York, meets another good-looking broad at La Guardia. They drive into town together, go to her apartment and jump in bed, it's beautiful. But now he's got to go to confession again before he gets home. He goes to St. Pat's, tells the priest what he did and the priest gives him a rosary. The guy says, 'Father, I don't mean to question you giving me a rosary, but I went to confession in Findlay, Ohio, for the same thing 133.

and I only got five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys.' The priest looks at him and screams, 'Findlay, Ohio! Ohio!' Like he can't believe it. 'Findlay, Ohio Ohio-what do they know about f.u.c.king in Findlay, Ohio!'... Otherwise," Nolen said, "there's nothing new."

"How about old business?" Moran said, taking clothes out of the bag. "I'm a little more interested in what was going on when I left."

"The lovers?" Nolen said. "They broke up."

"And when we last saw the guy who broke them up," Moran said, "you were treating him to one of my beers."

"Jiggs," Nolen said. "He's all right, a nice guy."