A Dangerous Game (24 page)

you.
 
He's a local tradesman of some sort.
 
Not important, but he

served with the Generalissimo in the army years ago, so he gets invited

here once in a while.
 
The ugly girl is his daughter.
 
Single, of

course.
 
Can you imagine anyone being stupid enough to marry her?"

"Beauty is more than skin deep," Jacey said lightly.

"Not from a man's point of view," Nicolas said.

They entered the ballroom and for a moment Jacey was overwhelmed by the

combination of glittering light from the chandeliers, and the white of

the marble floor.
 
An orchestra played a slow, Spanish tune.

Some of the guests wore decorative military uniforms, but the majority

wore evening suits.
 
The women were on the whole middle aged, and

wearing heavily boned Spanish-style dresses, with boat neck lines and

long skirts lavishly decorated with frills.
 
A few emphasised the

Spanish theme of the evening with a lace mantilla and a large fan.
 
All

the guests turned as Nicolas strolled across the polished floor.
 
The

men acknowledged him with slight bows, or a deferential movement of

their heads and the women smiled.
 
Nicolas nodded back once or twice,

with sardonic condescension.

Suddenly Jacey saw a face she recognised, one of her 'patients' from

La

Primavera.
 
One, she remembered, who had been visited regularly during

his stay by a series of good-looking young men.
 
He inclined his head

towards her, politely, as did the haughty-looking woman standing next

to him.
 
Jacey wondered how many more of her ex-patients were there

tonight.

Nicolas seemed to be reading her thoughts.

"Seen anyone you recognise?"

"Yes."

"Senor Controssna, with his wife?"
 
Nicolas grinned.

"They're probably both thinking about their boyfriends.
 
They used to

share the same one.

In fact they shared him with a lot of people.
 
Until he started to get

greedy and tried to blackmail the wrong client."

"And what happened?"
 
Jacey asked, finding it hard to imagine Senor

Controssna and his frigid-looking wife in a menage a trois.

Nicolas shrugged.

"He disappeared.
 
And I doubt if anyone missed him, except maybe those

clowns in the rain forest.
 
It was rumoured he wanted the money to give

to Lohaquin."

"You had him killed?"
 
She was ready to challenge him.

"It was politically expedient to have him removed," Nicolas

corrected.

"That's what happens to anyone who supports the so-called rebels."
 
His

fingers tightened round her arm.

"Don't ever forget that."

"I'm sure you won't let me," she said.

"It's for your own good."
 
He guided her forward.

"You women are so easily fooled by romantic ideas about freedom

fighters and revolutions.
 
The truth is, this Lohaquin is a scruffy

illiterate, and so are his followers.
 
He couldn't govern Guachtal,

even if he was given the chance."

That's exactly what I want to find out for myself, Jacey thought.

Nicolas was guiding her towards a uniformed group standing apart from

the others, and surrounded by plain-clothes security men.

She recognised Generalissimo Hernandez, but at close quarters this

rotund little man in his braided, bemedalled uniform looked even less

like a dictator than he had in the photograph Major Fairhaven had shown

her.
 
She was far more impressed by the imperious woman who stood a

head and shoulders taller behind him.
 
She guessed that this was the

formidable Pilar.
 
Unlike her husband, she looked perfectly capable of

governing and perfectly capable of challenging anyone who opposed her,

Jacey decided.
 
No wonder Nicolas didn't like her.

"Generalissimo," Nicolas said, 'may I present Dr.
 
Jacey Muldaire."

Jacey felt a warm hand enclose hers.

"Dr.
 
Muldaire."
 
At least Hernandez sounded pleased to see her, Jacey

thought.

"Dear lady, welcome to my home.
 
Welcome to my country.
 
We've heard so

much about you."
 
He guided her forward and turned to his wife.

"Haven't we, my dear?"

Pilar gave Jacey a frosty smile.

"Your work at La Primavera has been commented on, Dr.
 
Muldaire."

"Beautiful hospital, isn't it?"
 
Hernandez enthused, patting Jacey's

hand.

"Do you have anything like it in England?"

"Well, not quite," Jacey admitted truthfully.

"Nicolas helped raise most of the money," Hernandez said.

"Private subscriptions.
 
People were very generous."

"I believe you also do some work at El inerviemo, Dr.
 
Muldaire?" Pilar

Hernandez said unexpectedly.

"Well, yes."
 
Jacey nodded.

"El mviemo was funded from the treasury," Pilar said, 'which explains

the differences in the amenities."
 
Her dark eyes fixed on Jacey.

"My husband does try and fulfill the needs of the people."
 
Her eyes

moved briefly but obviously over Jacey's shoulder to Nicolas, and back

to Jacey again.

"When he is able."

There was a moment's uncomfortable silence, then Hernandez gave a

forced laugh, let go of Jacey's hand, and turned to his wife.

"Now, my dear, no politics tonight.
 
No politics."

And that, Jacey thought, probably says it all.
 
The Generalissimo likes

the parades, the social functions, and the roar of the crowd.
 
And

Nicolas gives him all that, in exchange for a free hand with the

economy.
 
A very nice arrangement.
 
For Senor Schlemann.

She was aware that Nicolas was edging her away from the Generalissimo's

group, and back towards the dance floor The band were playing a slow

waltz and Nicolas swung her round to face him.
 
Without asking her if

she wanted to dance, Nicolas guided her in time to the music.

"Senora Hernandez seems rather frosty toward you," she said.

"Did you oppose the building of El Invierno?"

"No," he said shortly.

"I opposed the amount of money spent on it.

Let's discuss something more interesting, please.
 
Tell me what you're

wearing under this expensive dress?"

"Certainly not," she said.

"That's for you to find out."

His hand moved against her back.

"No bra," he said.
 
An elderly couple waltzed by.
 
Nicolas treated them

to a charming smile.
 
Jacey saw their eyes follow his hand, as it

slipped down to her buttocks.
 
They quickly looked away.

"No knickers?"
 
he guessed.

"Wrong," she said.

His hand moved up to the small of her back again.

"We'll spend precisely one more hour here, and then I'm taking you back

to my apartment."

"Won't the Generalissimo think that's rather impolite?"
 
she asked.

"We've only just arrived."

"I've fulfilled my part of the bargain," Nicolas said.

"Hernandez wanted to see you.
 
Now he has."

"And everyone that matters knows that you've added the beautiful

English doctor to your list of conquests," she added.

"Congratulations."

"I've done you q favour," he said.

"You'll find doors will open for you now.
 
You'll be invited to the

best dinners, and the best parties.

You'll have a good time."

Until you drop me, Jacey thought.
 
Then all the creepy little social

climbers, and the people who have been nice to me because they're

afraid of you, or want something from you, will ignore me, and start

smiling at your next trophy.
 
Who will it be, she wondered.
 
Someone

else from the hospital, perhaps?
 
What about ingrid Gustaffsen?
 
Jacey

found it difficult to believe that the Swedish doctor would appeal to

Nicolas.
 
She was too obviously strong-willed and too masculine.

The hour passed quickly.
 
After the first dance Nicolas seemed content

to let Jacey circulate on her own.
 
It was as if he had put his mark on

her, and felt quite confident that no one else would usurp his

property.
 
While he spent most of the time talking to some of the other

male guests, she waltzed sedately with two of Hernandez's military aides

(who kept their conversation carefully neutral and their hands

immobile), and exchanged pleasantries with several old men, tactfully

ignoring the way their eyes strayed along the curved edge of her

neckline to the swell of her cleavage.
 
She noticed Carlos Marquez and

his wife on the edge of the dance floor and they acknowledged her with

polite nods and cool smiles.
 
There was no sign of Raoul.

After almost precisely one hour, Nicolas strolled over to her and said,

"Time to go."

As he escorted her across the dance floor she felt the guests' eyes on

them both.
 
She suspected that he had waited until she was at the

farthest edge of the ballroom before coming for her, to make a show of