by PJ Skinner
There was a heated discussion between the mayor of Riccuarte and Wilson.
‘What’s that about?’ Sam asked Alfredo.
‘The mayor is pissed off because we are using imported labour.’
‘Imported labour? Where are the workers from?’
‘Arenas.’
‘Arenas? But that’s the next village. They are hardly imported.’
The mayor of Riccuarte did not agree. He was a tall, thin mulatto with a pencil moustache, which stiffened with indignation. He stood between Wilson and the canoe with his arms outstretched.
‘The thing is that work is almost non-existent in the whole area and that sharing it out between the villages is good politics. The mayor’s just disappointed that it’s not Riccuarte’s turn this time. Leave it to me. I’ll sort it out.’
Alfredo went up to the mayor and quietly took him aside. After an animated conversation, Alfredo discretely gave him some money. The problem disappeared as quickly as it had arisen.
After smoothing the mayor’s ruffled feathers, Alfredo and the others got into the canoe and set off for the site of the Inca steps. It had been decided that an initial visit to map and to photograph the site would be the best way to start. Alfredo was determined to document everything meticulously for the sake of history. The sun was not yet high in the sky when they left, so the air felt cool below the shade of the trees bordering the river.
The river had high water levels due to the previous night’s rains. The canoe skimmed over the minor rapids without any need for the passengers to get out. Clouds of tiny flies hung over the water like old lace curtains moving in the breeze. Alfredo poked Sam in the shoulder and offered his legs as a backrest. Sam leaned back against his skinny shins and looked up at the sky, which was startlingly blue. Her anticipation rose as they got nearer to the site.
A fish jumped up and then plopped back into the water, stirring her from her reverie. She looked sideways into the jungle. To her stunned surprise, she saw a big cat lapping water at the river’s edge. It lifted its head as the boat glided by and flicked its tail in annoyance before disappearing back into the jungle. Sam regretted that her camera was double-sealed in a plastic bag at the front of the boat. One of the men poling the boat raised an imaginary rifle to his shoulder and shot at the vanishing feline. Sam glanced around to see if Alfredo had seen it, too. He mouthed ‘puma’ at her. She smiled back radiantly.
Sam woke up with a start from her sound sleep as the canoe nudged the riverbank. They had arrived at the place where they had been working when Sam had run into the jungle with the workers to photograph the frog. They clambered out of the canoe. Everyone felt stiff after sitting in cramped conditions for so long.
The Indians who had crewed the canoe all dived into the river and laughed and joked together in the water. Sam was tempted to join them but she did not want to get her clothes wet, as the day was not particularly hot yet. She did not want to take them off, either, because she could not bear the thought of Wilson leering at her in her swimming costume. So she sat on a rock and took photographs instead.
Wilson leant against a tree, smoking with his hat over his eyes. He had been very quiet the entire trip. He seemed content to let Alfredo organise and to give orders to their party.
There was something strange going on but Sam could not work out what it was. She would let Alfredo worry about that. She took her work rucksack out of the canoe with her notebook, penknife, pens, compass, camera and some cooking chocolate.
Eventually, everyone had dried off and stretched out. Then they all set off into the jungle, with Don Moises leading. Sam was surprised until she remembered that he seemed to know all about the Inca steps the first time and was not interested in seeing them. Wilson walked close behind him, chain-smoking his packet of Full Speed cigarettes, so that everyone else walked several paces behind the two men to avoid the smoke and ash flying from them.
‘Filthy habit,’ said Alfredo to Sam. She realised that he was one of the few people she knew in Sierramar who never smoked.
‘Full Speed to the grave,’ said Sam.
She winked at him. He winked back. Alfredo was definitely an ally.
It did not take them long to reach the steps, which were in the shade at this time of day. They looked dull and nondescript, like a blocky rock formation. Sam wondered if they were on a wild goose chase after all. Then she heard Alfredo gasp. He shuffled forward through the group and was up at the rock face, caressing it with his right hand. He had his cheek against it and his eyes shut in some sort of ecstasy. He muttered to himself. Sam waited with the others while he recovered himself and pulled away from the surface. Then Sam could see that he had been running his hand over the carved stone cypher of a frog.
Alfredo was very pale. His eyes glistened in a peculiar manner. He turned to look for Sam. Catching her eye, he nodded. He seemed quite overcome and sank to his knees. Don Moises and some of the workers ran forwards with a log for him to sit on. He sat down with his head in his hands, muttering to himself. Sam gave him a piece of her precious chocolate, which seemed to revive him.
He gave orders for the men to clear the rock face with machetes. They set to work pulling away the vines and creepers as they cut them away from the rock face. It took about an hour to complete this job. When they were finished, the bottom of a stone staircase was revealed. It cut though the ancient alluvial terraces stacked up into the jungle. There were frog cyphers on the vertical part of each step with concave indentations on the tops of the steps filled with sediment, which Alfredo ordered the workers to collect in plastic bags.
Alfredo took copious notes at this stage and pointed out key locations for Sam to photograph. Every aspect of the stairs was logged and measured. When they had finished documenting the bottom of the staircase, Alfredo directed the workers to start clearing the upper reaches of the construction. Halting at almost every step for more photographs and measurements, they painstakingly cut their way up the steps.
Several startled lizards shot into the jungle, alarmed by the invasion of their habitat. A viper was disturbed and slithered away in alarm. The workers wanted to kill it, but Don Moises stopped them, causing a momentary halt to work for a vigorous debate.
Sam missed the chance to get a photograph as she had her back to the steps.
‘Why are they trying to kill the snake? It’s running away, isn’t it?’ she asked.
‘Did you see the markings on its back, Sam?’ asked Alfredo. ‘They look like an ‘X’, so the snake is called Ekis. They are poisonous and can kill small children. The workers wanted to kill the snake in case it goes to their village.’
‘What do they do if the snake gets to there?’
‘They have a secret weapon.’
‘Really? What’s that?’
‘Did you see the pigs that the villagers keep under their houses? These pigs have an immunity to snake bites because of the thick layer of fat on their bodies. They kill the snakes and eat them.’
‘The pigs eat the snakes?’
‘Yes, pigs will eat anything.’
Meanwhile Don Moises assured the workers that their village was too far away for the snake to reach and that it was not right to disturb the balance of nature in the jungle by killing the predators. Peace was restored. They went back to their task of clearing the vegetation.
***
Segundo arrived at Riccuarte in the late afternoon and set about finding somewhere to stay. He was offered the same decrepit hut where Sam and Wilson had stayed on their first visit to the village. He left his belongings in a dark corner and ventured out into the dusk. Bats swooped to catch the insects gathered around the bare lightbulbs lit by small generators in some of the newer dwellings. He went to look for a cantina. He met Dona Elodea on the main street and asked her where to find one.
She had a villager’s suspicion of strangers. There was something nasty about the man that she did not like.
‘I haven’t seen you around,’ she ventured. ‘Have you
business in Riccuarte?’
This was a perfectly reasonable question and Segundo could see that Dona Elodea was a respectable woman. He decided to tell the truth.
‘My name is Segundo Duarte. I came to Riccuarte to look for someone. His name is Wilson Malvado. I don’t suppose you’ve come across him? I believe that he arrived yesterday afternoon.’
Dona Elodea did not let any recognition cross her face.
‘Maybe he is in the cantina,’ she suggested. ‘Most visitors eat in the cantina in the evening.’
‘Can you tell me where I can find it please, señora?’ asked Segundo.
‘It’s just up the street and the first turn on the right. You will hear the noise as you walk up the street.’
‘Thank you, señora. Have a good evening.’ He was gone.
Dona Elodea was sure that there was something sinister about Segundo. He made her flesh crawl with that nasty scar on his face. She could not imagine why someone would follow Wilson into the jungle. She could not help feeling that Segundo was not to be trusted. She decided to take the initiative, as Don Moises was not in town. She did not want the stranger to get away upriver before she sent a message to Moises in the morning asking him to find out what was going on. She had lots of friends in Riccuarte and they knew how to deal with dodgy strangers.
She picked up her skirts and hurried down the street to find Carlos and Rijer, who had worked on the original crew with Sam and Wilson. She found them playing cards on the porch outside Rijer’s house.
‘Chicos, I need your help. There is a stranger in town looking for Don Moises. He looks very sinister. I think he is dangerous.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘I sent him to the cantina to buy some supper. Can you please come with me and capture him?’
‘But where will we keep him?’
‘The old prison room will be perfect until morning. I will question him then.’
‘Okay, let’s go.’
The three vigilantes strode down the street to the cantina where Segundo was enjoying a bowl of soup. He was not allowed to finish it. Carlos and Rijer grabbed him from both sides and he was caught totally unawares. Despite this, he was a match for the two strong men and wriggled like an eel between them.
Another local, who liked a good brawl, came up behind him just when it looked as if he might struggle free. He hit him on the head with an empty beer bottle. He went down with a thud. The boys lifted his arms over their shoulders and dragged him down the road to the village lock-up. They placed him on a wooden bench inside the building and locked the door from the outside. Dona Elodea asked them to fetch his belongings and throw them in, too.
By the time Segundo came around, he had an old foam mattress, a cold bowl of soup and his small rucksack with him in the lock-up. He felt groggy and could not imagine what had happened to him. He tried the door but despite pulling and kicking with all his might, it did not budge. He shouted his lungs out. No one came to his aid. Deciding that he was unlikely to get an explanation until morning, he lay down on the bed. Despite the discomfort of the thin mattress and the mosquitos buzzing around his head, he was soon asleep.
***
The staircase had been cleared and it was apparent that the terrain flattened out into a small plateau at the top of the stairs. Large, black clouds rumbled into sight on the horizon. It looked as if a major storm was going to break. No one wanted to get caught outside, as these storms sometimes contained large hailstones that could bruise anyone foolish enough to stay out in the open. A decision was made to stop work for the day and to set out for Arenas, which Moises had chosen as their base for the trip, as it was nearer than Riccuarte.
Everyone descended the stone staircase onto the floor of the jungle and walked in single file to the riverbank. No one spoke. The weight of history was having its effect on the team. Of course they did not know if the treasure would be there but the steps could be significant in their own right.
It was not what Sam had come to Sierramar for. She had hoped that the job with Mike would be a stepping stone to a geological career. However, the field experience would be invaluable if nothing came from the treasure hunt. And the steps could lead to a valuable archaeological find, something that would thrill Alfredo. She was not going to let an opportunity like this pass her by, whatever the result. She tried to remain as calm as possible, as if she went searching for treasure every day. But inside her was a cauldron of emotions.
The Indian crew poled the canoe upriver to Arenas, which was relatively close to the site, but it was slow going. They had stopped laughing and joking and there was a grim concentration on their work. Sam imagined that they must have been very tired after they had cleared the steps all afternoon. They landed at the village as the first large drops of rain fell from the sky, which was black, even though the sun had not gone down yet.
Sam sat on the steps of their accommodation and watched the rain pour down. They had been housed in the same civic building in which they had stayed before. She saw children running about in the rain, shrieking with laughter, and was struck by the contrast to London where mothers would have called the children inside instead of encouraging them out to enjoy the rain.
The visitors had an early supper and went to bed soon afterwards. The storm strengthened. The rain came in sheets, which prevented any transit between the houses. Sam could see the raindrops bouncing off the volleyball court and running off into the gutters dug into the red clay. The rain was torrential all through the night, thundering on the tin roofs of the houses. She could hear it streaming off the roofs onto the ground as she lay in bed. The houses in the village were all on stilts to keep the snakes out but also in case of flooding. Could pigs swim? She drifted off as her exhaustion finally overcame her curiosity.
XVI
Segundo did not get much sleep in his impromptu prison in Riccuarte. The combination of the rain clattering on the tin roofs and the thunder cracking overhead meant that he was awake most of the night. He was also damp, as the roof had rusty holes in it, which suggested that the zinc had been second-hand. The rain had insinuated itself through these holes and had been absorbed into the mattress on the hard bed where he was sleeping. He felt stiff and hungry. His stomach was empty and growled loudly.
He was worried that he would not be able to explain his presence in the village to the formidable Dona Elodea. He admitted to himself that he was quite taken with her, despite the treatment he had received. Now, there was a woman you wanted on your side. She was very attractive, too. He spent a pleasant hour fantasising about the charms of his captor before she knocked on the door, startling him out of his reverie.
‘Good morning, Señor Duarte,’ said Dona Elodea. ‘I trust you slept well.’
‘I have slept better,’ he replied with a smile in his voice. ‘That rain of yours is very noisy. I wonder if you might give me the chance to explain what I am doing here. I get the feeling that you don’t trust me. I can understand that. With its evil aspects, my face does not engender trust,’ he said, trying to appeal to the soft heart he imagined inhabited her curvy body.
Dona Elodea was taken aback by this statement. She was forced to consider whether her assessment of Segundo had been influenced by the suspicious fear she felt at his deformed appearance. She had to admit that throwing a man in prison because he looked evil could have been considered an over-reaction. But she was very protective of Don Moises, who was revered in those parts. She did not want someone catching him unawares. However, she had woken up wondering if she should have found out more about the stranger before locking him up.
‘Are you hungry?’ she asked. ‘I will make you some breakfast. You may eat at my house if you promise not to try anything. Remember that I have two strong, young neighbours who can help me if you try to escape.’
She felt a bit foolish saying this, as she was sure there was not too much she could do if he really tried to escape.
‘I can help you in your search,’ she said. ‘But you mu
st agree to heed my advice if I trust you not to try to get away.’
Breakfast sounded good to Segundo and he knew that he would not get far if he made enemies in Riccuarte. He had a feeling that Dona Elodea knew exactly where Wilson was. He was sure that she would help him if she could.
‘It’s a deal,’ he said. ‘You have my word that I will not try to escape. I promise to explain exactly why I’m here over breakfast. I think you’ll want to help me once you’ve heard what I have to say.’
There was a short silence and then some huffing and puffing outside as Dona Elodea dislodged the large pieces of wood that barricaded the door. The door fell open on its hinges. Segundo squinted in the bright morning light. Dona Elodea stood there with her hands on her hips, ready for trouble. Segundo smiled. A formidable woman, just the kind that made him lose all concentration. He shook himself free of those thoughts.
‘Lead on, señora,’ he said.
***
Mike finally plucked up the courage to ring Edward. ‘Hi mate, how are you?’
‘About time you called me! Where have you been? What’s happening? Have you found my treasure yet?’
The words hung in the air. Mike took a deep breath.
‘There’s been a slight hitch. I don’t think it will affect the final outcome but it may delay it.’
Edward was used to Mike’s inability to be straightforward.
‘Spit it out, mate.’
‘We have a problem. One of the team is planning to get the treasure for himself and the rest of the team don’t know.’
‘Can’t you ring them?’
‘They’re in the jungle.’
‘So what the fuck are you doing in Calderon?’
‘We’ve sent someone down to sort it out.’
