by Lou Cameron
He shrugged and said, “I noticed they didn’t hit it off on the train or anywhere else. I thought maybe she was bitching you, Theresa.”
“Oh, she’s been doing that since I joined the company. I never bother to snap at the bait, so she’s grown tired of picking on me. I do hope your poor Wife will understand that this is a purely social engagement?”
“I doubt if she’ll ever hear about it.”
“Oh, don’t you tell your wife what you do when she’s away?”
“Do the mice tell the cat?”
She fluttered her fan between them and said, “Please, let’s not be silly about this, Mr. MacUlrich. I noticed Liza seemed rather, well, possessive, and I know that boys will be boys, but not with me, if you know what I mean.”
“Relax. I don’t believe what they say about life upon the wicked stage.” He couldn’t help adding, “Your troupe seems to be missing some actresses in any case.”
“Thank you,” she responded frigidly.
“I meant the Divine Whatever and that dame with the speech impediment. I know Castilian Spanish has a slight lisp to it, but you might tell that other girl that she’s laying it on pretty heavy even for Castile, and they don’t talk like that in Latin America at all.”
Theresa said, “I know. But who’s going to notice? They’d told us the Divine One had completely recovered, but she has to be insane to do a Shakespeare play when she can’t even remember the words to ‘Little Jack Horner.’ I’m very worried about her.”
“Yeah, I noticed the way she kept fluffing her lines. But what was that about her recovering? Was she sick?”
Theresa shot him an odd look and asked, “Didn’t you know? Oh, I forgot you’re not in show business and wouldn’t have read the trade papers. Poor Rowena Malone – that’s her real name – had a complete breakdown a few years ago. I understand she spent some time in a German sanitarium. She was on the Continent when it happened, you see.”
He frowned and said, “You’re right, I don’t see at all. What was it? Drugs, booze, something like that?”
Theresa looked away and said, “No, it was mental. According to Jason, she was appearing in Twelfth Night when she suddenly stepped to the footlights and announced to the audience that she was Catherine the Great, Empress of all the Russians.”
“Oh boy, you mean she went really gaga?”
“I’m afraid so. She was already a known, well, nymphomaniac. That may have been why she identified with another famous lady who, uh, loved animals. Anyway, when she started tearing her clothes off and throwing them into the orchestra pit, the German police stopped the show and arrested her. She was declared incompetent to stand trial, of course, and they sent her to an asylum outside Berlin. I guess it was six or seven years ago and apparently a lot of people had given her up for dead. Naturally, she’d been forgotten by a lot of people when she got out last year. This tour was to have been her comeback.”
“Well, everybody deserved a second chance, but in Spanish, down here?”
The girl shrugged and said sadly, “They laughed at her in San Francisco. The original cast walked out on her. I guess you know I’m not really an actress. I mean, I never managed to get a professional part before. I was working as a typist in San Francisco, and when I saw her casting call in the paper I leaped at the chance. The rest you know. Oh, Ian, what are we to do?”
He blinked, remembered he was supposed to be ‘Ian’ these days, and said, “I don’t know. Are you afraid you’ll be stranded if she cracks up again?”
“Not really. Jason has promised passage home, poor dear. I think he’s in love with her. He must have half expected this to turn out badly, so he took out some 100ilometre’s checks in advance.”
“Then why are you so upset, honey?”
She dabbed at her eye and said, “I’m not worried about myself, darn it. It’s poor Rowena. I know what she’s become, but she really was a great actress, once. I know you find that hard to believe.”
He did. He’d seen old thespians down on their luck. Drunk or sober or insane, most of them could manage a sonorous line or two before they forgot their lines. The Divine Rowena had no projection or stage presence. She’d been dithering around up there on the stage like a kid in a high school play. He said, “Frankly, I thought she’d always been bad. I don’t know much about acting, but she has to be going off the deep end again. You, uh, must have noticed Hengist and Horsa?”
“Don’t be beastly!” she gasped, blushing and putting her fan over her face. Then she giggled despite herself and said, “My, that was an awkward choice of words, wasn’t it”
“Look, we’re platonic friends and we have to talk about it man-to-man, or maybe girl-to-girl. You know what I mean. If she pulls anything really wild in front of conservative Spanish Catholics, they won’t just laugh. This country just gave up the Inquisition a little while ago and the peones in some villages still stone an adultress to death. All of you could be in a real mess if she started acting like that again, and as for bestiality, they’ve been known to burn people like that at the stake in certain Spanish villages.”
“I know. The very least they’d do would be to jail us all until further notice. But what do you suggest? She doesn’t listen to Jason, and he’s supposed to be in charge!”
He hesitated, aware that he had to be very careful about giving things away that might get around. He knew Theresa would feel she owed it to the others to tell them about any other dangers. But she was a sweet little thing and, damn it, the others were Americans.
“Listen, this is supposed to be a secret, but you know I’m a journalist, right? If I were you folks, I’d hop the next train back to the coast. Wait, I’m not just talking about your dotty star. She might go nuts again, she might not. But there’s other trouble brewing. I can’t tell you everything until I verify a few things. But this whole country could blow up any minute.”
“You mean a revolution? We were told Colombia has a stable government.”
“I know what you were told. Why do you think my paper sent me down here, to cover a bullfight? You asked me what you could do. Okay, do it! As soon as this party is over, tonight, book passage back to Frisco and start packing. You might not be able to in a few days. I’ve seen a country blow up before. For some reason, the first people the crowd tends to turn on seem to be well-dressed foreigners.”
They rode in silence for a time and then she said softly, “I’m afraid I misjudged you, Mr. MacUlrich. You’re a very gallant man. I see now why you sent your wife away.” She fanned herself and added, “Funny, I’d gotten the impression you weren’t too happy together.”
He didn’t answer. He had been right about the smoke signals in those big innocent eyes. And now he’d made sure he’d never have a chance to take her up on them. Flirting with an unhappily married man was one thing. But he didn’t think she saw herself as a home wrecker who’d get between a happily married couple. But, what the hell, you couldn’t win ’em all and she was too pretty to see trampled by a mob or gang raped.
So he’d squire her to the party and help her get her pretty little fanny out of here before he started the action. It was the least he could do.
Their carriage pulled up in front of the German Embassy and a lackey in Prussian blue livery helped them down from the seat and up the steps. He noticed the guy had a duelling scar, meaning he was a German officer when he wasn’t acting this part. The Kaiser’s boys didn’t take chances hiring the locals. Maybe they knew something?
Inside, the party was in progress and the baroque interior was crowded. He felt like a rube in his linen suit and tie. Half the men there were in full-dress military uniform and most of the others wore sashes and medals with their civilian dress.
The Divine Rowena had somehow beaten them from the hotel and was holding court near the punch bowl, wearing a tiara and fluttering her fan at a handsome Colombian in a cutaway. A tall sardonic man wearing a black poker chip over his left eye and the Blue Max in his lapel was hovering over them.
The Divine One called them over with a trill and introduced them. The Colombian was a Senator Vargas. The obvious German was called Von Linderhoff. Neither paid much attention to Captain Gringo as they took turns kissing Theresa’s gloved hand and staring down the front of her low-cut bodice.
When he learned in passing that Von Linderhoff was the military attaché he decided it was time to move away and mix. He’d been in an army once, so he knew the military attaché was always the head spy, and the Prussian looked smart.
He found an alcove and stepped into it to nurse the drink he’d picked up at the punch bowl. There were some French doors opening onto a dimly lit balcony. That was even better. He could have a smoke outside and watch out for when it was time to scoop Theresa up and leave.
He lit a Claro and leaned against the doorway, enjoying the cooler air. A couple of other men stepped out of a door down the way, apparently with the same notion. He couldn’t see them as they spoke Spanish. Ergo, they were unaware of him. He wasn’t interested until one of them asked, “Well, how are you betting, Roberto? Is our stupid cousin going to bed that big blond or not?”
The other laughed and said, “He is most welcome to her, the cow. I had heard she was beautiful. It must have been a long time ago. Poor Vargas must be stagestruck. He can’t see through the powder and paint, and my wife says she thinks that blond hair is a wig.”
“Oh, well, let Vargas have his fun. The Germans are going out of their way to play cupid. But that is harmless, too. In the end, we’ll take them as we took the others.”
“I know. Even throwing Vargas a bone won’t help if those rumors about the German mineral strike turn out to be true. Have you heard any more about that?”
“No. The army is opposed to any more nationalization unless it’s something big. We don’t know for certain that the Germans have been stealing emeralds from us like the Yanqui company was. But you know what they say about mica schist. It’s the same formation as you find up in the Inca mines at Muzo, no?”
“True. If there is a gem vein in the German mine, not even Maldonado can prevent Vargas from presenting his new nationalization bill. He is stupid, as everyone knows, but it will take more than a big blond to buy him off.”
Listening, Captain Gringo stubbed out his cigar to keep drifting smoke from giving him away. If they moved toward him, he would just have to crawfish back through the doorway, and this was getting interesting.
The first speaker continued, “I wonder if Von Linderhoff himself is sleeping with her?”
“Are you joking? Even a German has some taste! Did you get a rear view of that old cow? A man would have to tie a board across his behind for to keep from falling in! Vargas must be blind. If he goes for that he’ll be taking over two German quarries! I would not be at all surprised to see a string of ore cars rolling out of her when she lay down and spread her legs!”
Captain Gringo grimaced at the graphic but all too accurate description of the poor old bawd’s charms. He remembered how little Consuela had been able to take a whole fist and the Divine Rowena was a lot bigger. Could that be what was driving her? He’d heard some apparent nymphomaniacs, like the real Catherine of Russia, had been cursed by enormous maws no man could satisfy. Old Catherine had taken on platoons of Cossacks, and then their horses, according to rumor. They said that when she died they found her stuffed with an enormous dildo and … “That’s it, of course!” he gasped, resisting the impulse to snap his fingers as he tried to hear more.
One of the unseen politicos was saying, “We can forget about El Araiio for a while. He’s been replaced by Major Herrerra while he’s away ah, for his health.”
“Herrerra is an asshole.”
“Oh, you heard about that, too? My point is that they managed to send Maldonado away while Reyes is also in the lowlands. In my opinion, there will never be a better time to clean up the last of these foreign mines. Valuable or not.”
“Perhaps, but Vargas has the final say. The senate is divided on taking over businesses unless they are really valuable. Vargas, as you know, could go either way. He thinks with his glands, since he has no brains,’ and the Germans are really buttering him up. I don’t think we’ll see him in the senate until he’s tired of that big blond actress.”
“Well, that shouldn’t take long. After all, he’ll have to take her clothes off to do it, and the thought of her undressed upsets my stomach. I’d rather screw Major Herrerra. He has a nicer ass.”
They drifted back in before the eavesdropping Captain Gringo could pick up more. He wasn’t sure how it fit together with his other suspicions. But he’d seldom seen this many wheels within wheels. Maybe that was why the country sounded like a cuckoo clock?
He went back in to see how Theresa was making out. He found her alone in a corner with the sardonic Von Linderhoff. For a guy with one eye, Von Linderhoff sure looked down dresses good.
He hid his annoyance as he joined them, putting a possessive hand on the girl’s elbow. He could tell she was relieved by the familiarity. Von Linderhoff just looked amused. He probably got to go to a lot of these parties.
He was apparently a gentleman as well as an officer, for he took the hint and moved off graciously. Captain Gringo asked Theresa where the Divine was. She said, “I’m afraid she left with that Senator Vargas. I’m worried, Ian. I’ve never seen her that way. The idiot was actually drooling and she seemed to be drooling right back. You don’t suppose she’s well, willing to have an assignation with him, do you?”
“Jesus, I sure hope that’s all. Let’s get out of here, Theresa. I mean, right now! I’ll get word to your friends if there’s time, but you’re coming with me if I have to drag you!”
“What on earth is going on?” she protested as he manhandled her across the room and out the door. There was no cab in sight. He started for the hotel on foot with her still protesting. He knew he’d have to let her in on some of it, to save her. So he said, “Listen to me and listen tight! I’m taking you to the hotel and you’re going to change into something simple. I’m putting you on the next railroad train or oxcart headed west. Once you’re out of town, you don’t know Rowena Malone. You’ve never heard of Shakespeare. You’ll have your passport. I don’t think they’ll have your name on the wire for a while, but just in case, don’t introduce yourself around more than you have to. Your Spanish is good. Try to blend in. If things hit the fan before you reach Buenaventura, I’ve an address where you can hole up. If we make it, I’ll join you and we’ll figure something out. If I don’t, you’re on your own, but you’re a smart kid and you always wanted to be an actress, right?”
“Ian, what in the hell are you talking about? You sound like a maniac. I thought Rowena was crazy, but—”
“My name is Dick and Rowena isn’t crazy. She isn’t even Rowena. She can’t be. Von Linderhoff wouldn’t trust a lady who’d already gone cuckoo once, not to go cuckoo again.”
“You mean she’s an impostor?”
“Has to be. We know she’s not a Shakespearean actress. I think the real Rowena died in that German asylum, like a lot of people thought. Knowing Vargas was a fan of hers, as well as a Don Juan, they’ve sprung a ringer on him. All that floundering around up north was a clever cover story, to establish she was still around and dying to meet him.”
“That’s crazy. Why are you called Dick, and what on earth do the Germans hope to get out of that silly Vargas?”
“Forget why I’m not really Ian MacUlrich. I’ll tell you about that if we ever see each other again, which doesn’t seem likely. The Germans don’t want anything from Vargas. They want to keep Vargas from taking what they regard as theirs! Rowena’s job is to see that he doesn’t introduce some kind of bill in the next few days.”
“Oh, you mean by seducing him?”
“Are you kidding? You don’t go to all that trouble to fix a friend up. Vargas might miss one session of the senate if he was otherwise reclined. But Don Juans cool off as fast as they heat up. Rowena has to be an assassin! If we�
�re lucky, you’ll be well on your way before they find his body. If she’s really good, they might not ever find it. But people are sure to wonder in a few days and a member of your company will be remembered as the last person seen with him. Do I have to draw you a picture?”
She stopped dragging her feet as she gasped, “Oh, My God! We have to warn the others!”
“I said to let me worry about that, damn it. First things first. If I can’t get them to a train they can hole up in the American Consulate. They owe me.”
“Oh, are you a Secret Service man?”
“Later. Let’s pick ’em up and lay ’em down, kid. There’s a midnight train and we might turn into pumpkins if you miss it.”
She stopped, bent over, and took off her shoes to semi jog at his side, ignoring the curious stares of the few passersby. They saw the lights of the main drag down the street ahead of them and after he’d moved her fast another two blocks he warned, “Slow down. We walk through the lobby as if nothing happened. It probably hasn’t yet.”
“Brrr. I know it’s silly to worry about Rowena or whoever, but I can’t help wondering how she’ll get away. Isn’t she the first person they’ll be looking for?”
“Yeah. We know she wears a wig. In a black one, in a rusty dress without those flashy wolfhounds, who’s going to take her for anything but a middle-aged frump? Don’t worry about her. She’s a pro. Worry about you!”
As they walked on he took out a book of matches and a pencil stub and wrote the address of Gaston’s friends in Buenaventura. He handed it to her and said, “Memorize this and get rid of it. For God’s sake don’t leave it in your room at the hotel.”
She nodded and put it away, saying, “A lot of things are becoming very clear now. You and that girl Liza weren’t married at all, were you?”
“No. If you see her in Buenaventura, remember you don’t know her.”
