Cade Page 6

  The following morning while they were drinking coffee, Cade asked Juana if she could drive a car.

  ‘Of course,’ Juana said. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘You need a car here. I’ll look around. I should be able to find some kind of second-hand bargain … a run around.’

  Juana gave a squeal of delight and threw herself on him, covering his face with kisses.

  ‘Hey! You’re smothering me,’ Cade said, pulling her onto his lap. ‘So you would like a car?’

  She drew in a long ecstatic breath.

  ‘I have always longed for a car of my own.’

  ‘Well, fine, I’ll get you one.’

  ‘But can we afford it, cariño? This house …’

  ‘Of course we can afford it. Now I have to get off. I’ll be back by four o’clock. I have a lot to do. If you want me I will be at Olmedo’s photographic shop. I have enlargements to make. I must get these pictures off on tonight’s plane. Will you be all right until I get back?’

  She laughed happily.

  ‘Of course. I have the house. I will prepare a wonderful dinner for you. Tonight I will prove to you what a good cook I am.’

  Cade took out his wallet and placed a wad of five hundred pesos bills on the table.

  ‘When you want more, ask for it. This is your own money, Juana. Buy yourself a dress or something. From now on, we share what I have.’

  Lifting her off his lap, he dumped her on the settee and ran from the house where Creel waited in his Pontiac. Cade had never felt happier. He was utterly in love and like all lovers, he was in the mood to give what he had.

  As Creel, after a smiling greeting, started the car and drove down Reforma, Cade said, ‘I want your help, Adolfo. First, I want a car. What’s the market like for a Thunderbird?’

  Visibly impressed, Creel thought for a moment, then he said, ‘That could be arranged, senor. I have a good friend in the car business.’

  ‘I want it by three o’clock this afternoon.’

  ‘If I can’t get it by then, I will never get it.’

  ‘Okay, so you get it. Now another thing: I want a bracelet … something in diamonds. What can you do about that?’

  Creel’s eyes opened wide. He nearly hit an overtaking taxi. The exchange in Spanish between the taxi driver and himself was lurid and obscene.

  ‘Diamonds?’ he said when the taxi driver, worsted in the exchange, had sped away. ‘But, senor, diamonds cost a lot of money.’

  ‘Never mind about the money,’ Cade said. ‘Can you do something about diamonds?’

  ‘Anything can be arranged in this City providing there is money,’ Creel said. ‘A bracelet? Well, I have a friend who deals in diamonds. Leave it to me.’

  He pulled up outside the photographic shop.

  ‘Meet me here at three o’clock,’ Cade said. ‘With the car and the bracelet.’

  ‘Certainly, senor,’ Creel said, lifting his panama hat.

  Cade grinned at him.

  ‘You are a good man, Adolfo. Thank you.’

  ‘She is beautiful,’ Creel said. ‘But I am a practical man. I am happy to be of assistance, but I am also aware that when dealing with gold, the gold rubs off a little.’

  Cade laughed and walked into the shop where the owner, Tomas Olmedo, was waiting for him.

  By 14.30 hours, Cade had finished his prints, had packed them ready for mailing to Sam Wand. He had also completed a carefully selected and flattering batch of prints for Pedro Diaz. Olmedo said he would send his assistant around to the Hotel de Toro with the prints.

  While waiting for Creel, Cade sat in Olmedo’s office and picked up the morning newspaper that was lying on the desk.

  A photograph of Manuel Barreda brought him upright in his chair.

  The caption under the photograph read: Manuel Barreda, the well-known ship owner, died early yesterday morning from a heart attack. Senor Barreda had been recuperating from a previous heart attack at a luxury hotel at Acapulco. He …

  Cade let the newspaper slip out of his hand. He felt cold and sick. This man would have been still alive if Juana hadn’t left him. Of that he was sure. He had stolen her from him … he was responsible for his death. He put a call through to Juana who answered after a little delay.

  ‘Have you seen the paper?’ Cade asked.

  ‘Cariño! I am too busy to read newspapers. Why?’

  ‘Barreda had a heart attack yesterday morning. He’s dead.’

  There was a pause, then she said, ‘Is he? Something is boiling over. I must go and look after it. You will be …’

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Cade demanded, his voice rising. ‘Barreda is dead! We probably killed him!’

  ‘But, cariño, he was old and ill. Old men do die. Why should we, more than anyone else, have killed him? What is the matter? You sound upset?’

  Cade rubbed his sweating forehead as he stared at the big photograph on the opposite wall of a girl in a bikini. Her body was insipid in comparison with Juana’s.

  ‘Aren’t you upset?’

  ‘Well, I am sorry, of course, but …’

  ‘We shouldn’t have done this to him, Juana.’

  ‘But he had to die some time,’ Juana said briskly. ‘So don’t worry about it. I must go or your beautiful dinner will be spoilt,’ and she hung up.

  We all have to die some time but not in this way, Cade thought, depressed and unhappy. This could happen to me! Some man could appear in her life tomorrow, next month, next year and she would have every right to walk out of my life and into his.

  Immediately, he became aware of a suffocating feeling of fear. Now he had found her, it was unthinkable that he might lose her. What was he waiting for? Why was he fooling around with her like this? He loved her. He was as crazy about her as she was about him. The obvious solution was for them to get married.

  A little after 16.00 hours, Cade, driving a glittering scarlet Thunderbird, drew up outside his house. Juana came to the door as he got out of the car.

  A little after 18.00 hours, they were sitting in the garden side by side on the terrace swing. She had driven the car with an expertise that surprised him around the outskirts of the city; she had cried a little with sheer happiness; she had kissed him until his face felt bruised. Now, he took her hand and snapped around her wrist the diamond bracelet he had chosen from the five Creel had found: a perfect thing that had cost twenty thousand dollars.

  At 20.00 hours they were clasped fiercely in each other’s arms, naked, coupled and moaning their pleasure, the sounds of the City a background to their passion.

  At 22.00 hours they were sitting down to a candle lit meal of Turkey Mole, the festival Mexican dish that Juana had somehow found time to prepare between lovemaking and half-hysterical tears.

  When they had finished the meal, Juana looked expectantly across the table at him, her diamond bracelet sparkling in the candle light, her eyes like stars. ‘Am I a good cook? Please tell me.’

  ‘You are truly wonderful,’ Cade said, moved. ‘Everything about you is wonderful. The finest cook in the world.’

  She jumped to her feet.

  ‘Let us leave all this. I will attend to it tomorrow. Now, we will drive to the Pyramid of the Moon. By moonlight, it is fitting for us to look at the Pyramid after the way we have loved.’

  A half-hour’s fast drive brought them to San Juan Teotihuacan where the impressive archaeological ruins stretched over an area of some twenty miles.

  At the base of the vast Pyramid of the Moon, the most ancient building in the valley, by the figure of the kneeling woman who is supposed to represent the Goddess of Water, Cade asked Juana to marry him.

  There could have been no more romantic and dramatic background to this challenge to his future happiness, and he was conscious of the solemn occasion.

  ‘Are you really sure?’ she asked, holding his hands in hers. ‘No man has ever wanted me permanently. No man has ever asked me to be his wife. I want it, but do you? It will make no difference to my
love for you if you don’t. Are you really sure?’

  It was what Cade wanted. He had a child-like belief in the security of marriage. Once they were married, he thought no other man could take her from him.

  They arranged to be married at the end of the week.

  His work finished for the moment, free and light-hearted, he was content to let Juana who knew the City by heart, show him the places of interest.

  Neither of them mentioned Manuel Barreda, although there were times when Cade thought uneasily of him.

  Discussing the plans for their marriage, Cade was relieved when Juana said she wanted no fuss, no party, but a honeymoon in Cozumel.

  This suited Cade very well. He had a horror of ostentatious weddings, having photographed so many in the past. Juana said she had a girl friend to act as her witness and Cade decided to ask Adolfo Creel to act as his. The fat Mexican was overcome with the honour. He even wept a little as he wrung Cade’s hand, wishing him the happiness he deserved.

  Cade was more than happy. Juana not only proved herself an excellent cook, but an efficient housewife. She seemed to take the greatest pleasure in running the house, keeping it clean, marketing in her Thunderbird and providing restaurant-standard meals which Cade began to regard with concern as he was putting on weight.

  It was while they were packing for their honeymoon, the wedding to take place the following morning, that Sam Wand came through on the telephone from New York.

  ‘They are raving about the bull fighting pictures,’ he boomed. ‘And I must say, Val, this tops anything you have ever done. What are you doing now? You coming back? Do you want me to dig up something here or do you want to go some place else?’

  ‘I’m getting married tomorrow,’ Cade said, wishing he could see Wand’s, face. ‘I’ll be out of circulation for at least a month.’

  ‘Sweet suffering snakes!’ Wand exclaimed. ‘You’re not serious are you? Married? I don’t believe it!’

  When Cade had finally convinced him and had told him something about Juana who by now was standing in the open doorway, listening, Wand said, ‘I would never have believed it. Anyway, congratulations. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?’

  ‘I’m sure. I’ll be back by the tenth. I’m going to stay in Mexico, Sam. I want you to find as many good assignments as you can covering Central America. Will you do that?’

  ‘Sure, sure. I’ll have something for you by the tenth. What’s wrong with taking some shots of the bride if she’s as good as you say she is? With your name, I could get you a big coverage.’

  ‘No.’ Cade couldn’t bear the idea of Juana’s picture decorating the walls of those pin-up addicts whose name is legion. ‘She’s my own very personal property, Sam, and she is remaining that way.’

  ‘Just an idea,’ Wand said hurriedly, aware he had stepped out of turn. ‘Have a good time. I’ll be in touch with you on the tenth,’ and he hung up.

  ‘I want to be your own very personal property,’ Juana said, coming to him. ‘Forever and forever.’

  And at that moment, as he held her close to him, he believed her.

  The honeymoon was only a partial success. Cade was worried most of the time by the attention Juana received from most of the male American tourists whether accompanied by their wives or not. At every opportunity and with the flimsiest of excuses, they were around her like ants after honey. This amused Juana and irritated Cade. There was no privacy on the crowded beaches; no privacy in the dining room where the American male was constantly pausing at their table for a chat. There was no privacy on the dance floor. The continual cutting-in, leaving Cade without his partner infuriated him. It finally got so bad that he insisted that they should spend most of the day in lounging chairs on their private balcony, and this quickly bored Juana. She began to talk wistfully of her Thunderbird and her home, and finally at the end of ten days, they decided to cut the honeymoon short and return to Mexico City.

  Cade discovered that although marriage was a wonderful thing, he wasn’t now as free as he had been. When he wasn’t working, he liked to wander the streets, exploring alone, his eyes searching for new material, interesting faces, new angles, tricky challenges of light. But this wasn’t possible with Juana constantly with him. She disliked walking, and it was difficult to persuade her to leave her Thunderbird at home. Although Cade patiently explained that it was impossible for him to create images for future photography while flashing down the trunk roads at eighty miles an hour, Juana still insisted on using the car.

  So five days after their return, Cade decided it was time to begin work again. While Juana was preparing an elaborate lunch, he put a call through to Sam Wand.

  ‘Hi, fella!’ Wand shouted when he came on the line. ‘I’ve been wanting to talk to you. Did you enjoy yourself?’

  Cade said he had enjoyed himself.

  ‘All still roses and turtle doves?’

  ‘Got anything lined up for me?’ Cade was in no mood for Wand’s hearty banter. ‘I’m all set to go.’

  ‘Well, you said the tenth. It’s only the second, but there is a job you might care to do. It’s no great shakes. Three hundred and expenses, but the way things stand, it looks to me you could use a fast three hundred.’

  ‘What the hell do you mean by that?’ Cade demanded.

  ‘You have me worried, Val. I had your bank manager onto me. You’re in the red for four thousand dollars. I told him to sell some of your bonds. He tells me you haven’t any bonds to sell!’

  Cade stiffened. He had always been careless with money. At one time he was continually getting into trouble with his bank manager until Wand had suggested he should look after his account.

  ‘The thing to do,’ Wand had said, ‘is to buy a parcel of bonds, and to keep a float of a thousand dollars in your account. When you have used the thousand, you sell a bond, and when you sell a photograph you buy a bond. That way, you’ll keep out of the red and your money will make money. I’ll fix it for you if you like.’

  Cade had agreed.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ Wand demanded. ‘You had forty thousand dollars worth of bonds about a month ago. Don’t tell me you’ve cashed them?’

  Had he? Cade ran his fingertips through his hair. He had got into the habit of scrawling on the back of his cheques: if no funds available, sell bonds. He had never bothered to keep an account of his spending. He knew he had plenty of bonds, so there was no need to bother. Now, a little alarmed, he thought of his recent spending. There was the Thunderbird, the diamond bracelet, the month’s rent in advance for the house, the mink stole he had given Juana, the ten days’ honeymoon at the most expensive hotel—and it was expensive!—in Cozumel. But forty thousand dollars!

  ‘You there?’ Wand said impatiently.

  ‘Shut up a minute,’ Cade snapped. ‘I’m trying to think.’

  He finally decided that he must have spent forty thousand dollars. The shock made him sweat.

  ‘Listen, Sam, did those people pay for the bull fighting pictures? That was three thousand, wasn’t it?’

  ‘It was, and they paid ten days ago and you’ve spent it,’ Wand said. ‘What’s going on down there for God’s sake?’

  ‘Did you say I was in the red for four thousand?’

  ‘That’s what I said. Now listen …’

  ‘Hold it a moment.’ Cade was figuring with pencil and paper. There was the car and motor boat he had hired in Cozumel. There was the skin diving outfits he had bought when he could have hired them. Oh, God yes! There was that silver tea service that Juana had wanted and he had bought it. Who the hell wanted a silver tea service? He should have talked her out of that one! They were never likely to use it. It was just a goddamn status symbol!

  ‘Look, Sam, you’d better sell some stock,’ he said. ‘I’ll need around ten thousand dollars in the bank to take care of the overdraft and to live on. Will you do that?’

  ‘The market is lower than a snake. It’s not the time to sell: it’s the time to buy.’

/>   ‘It always is when you want money,’ Cade said. ‘Sell something. I want ten thousand.’

  ‘Well, okay. I’ll look through your list and see what I can do.’

  ‘My royalty statement will be through in a couple of months, won’t it?’

  ‘Yeah. At a guess it should be worth eight to ten thousand.’

  Cade brightened.

  ‘So what am I worrying about?’

  ‘You tell me,’ Wand said. ‘Now about this job. The Archaeological Museum of Boston wants a new set of pictures of the ruins of Chicken-Itza and Uxmal. I’ll send you all the dope with copies of the old pictures. They want your angles and lighting. How about it?’

  ‘I’ve just got back from Yucatan!’

  ‘That’s not my fault, is it? You didn’t tell me where you were going.’

  ‘Three hundred and expenses?’

  ‘Yeah, but they aren’t paying double fares. So if you want to take your wife, you pay for her. It’s a week’s work, Val.’

  ‘A week’s work for three hundred? To hell with them!’

  ‘Look, Val, be your age. You need this money.’

  Cade couldn’t remember Wand ever saying that to him. He didn’t like it. After hesitating, he said, ‘Well, okay, you have yourself a deal. Cash on delivery?’

  ‘You bet. So long, and put a padlock on that wallet of yours.’

  Cade went into the kitchen where Juana was occupied in cutting up red peppers.

  ‘I’ve been talking to Wand,’ he said. ‘There’s a job come up. It’s a nuisance really: means going back to Merida.’

  She grimaced.

  ‘Do you have to do it, cariño?’

  ‘Well, it’s a job. Yes, I guess I have to do it.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘At the end of the week.’

  ‘That’s all right. We won’t be long, will we?’

  Cade rubbed his jaw.

  ‘I have to do this alone. It’s tricky. I’ll have to concentrate.’

  She looked at him, surprised.

  ‘Oh. You mean you don’t want me with you?’

  ‘It’s not that. It’s the way I work. I just have to be alone.’ He put his arm around her. ‘I’ll be away a week. What will you do with yourself?’