The Tarantula Stone. Philip Caveney

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СКАЧАТЬ east, lost somewhere in jungle, a few unidentified birds greeted the rising of the sun with a distant squawking. Then, at last, he heard the wheezing of the rusty old train as it came lumbering up out of the jungle. It clanged to a halt in a spasm of steam and ancient metal, disgorging a motley collection of would-be fortune-hunters, a pack of arrogant, snarling tough guys who had yet to be broken by the jungle. Martin watched them pass by, remembering his own arrival here six years earlier. More human fuel for the furnaces of men like Caine. The newcomers strode noisily away towards the garimpo, where the fazendeiros and their henchmen were waiting to greet them.

      Martin hauled himself aboard the train and took his place on one of the hard wooden seats. The carriage stank of a mixture of sweat, cachaça and urine, but to Martin it was the vehicle that would carry him away from the living hell that was Garimpo Maculo. An impassive Indian guard came along collecting fares; and a few moments later the train lurched into motion, heading back into the dark, mysterious jungle. Martin sat quietly through the journey, staring out of the dust-streaked window.

      Arriving at Rio three hours later was something of a shock. It was six years since he had seen anything of the trappings of civilization and clambering off the train to be swallowed whole by a sea of humanity in the process of hurrying to work was a weird experience. It seemed inconceivable that Rio de Janeiro, with its great glittering skyscrapers of glass and concrete, its traffic-jammed streets and its bewildering mixture of races, could actually have been here all the time, perched on the edge of the jungle like a bizarre oasis on the perimeter of a vast green wilderness. But now was the time to move fast. Martin’s first step was to seek out a cheap clothing store where he purchased a new khaki shirt and trousers to replace his rotting rags. Then he went to a public wash-house, where he was able to bath and shave himself. He was, all the time, horribly aware that the hours were passing and that each minute he wasted would bring him nearer to discovery; but he also realized the stupidity of turning up at the airport looking like a tramp. Once he was satisfied that he looked fairly presentable, he dumped his old clothes in a trash can and hailed a passing cab, directing the driver to take him straight to the airport.

      A short while later, he was pushing his way through the crowds of people inside the main building. The presence of so many strangers made him nervous; every couple of moments, he glimpsed a man who could well be one of Caine’s pistoleiros. He made his way to the check-in desk and impatiently tagged himself onto the end of a long queue. When he finally reached the desk, he was met with an engaging smile from the pretty, dark-haired receptionist.

      ‘You er … speak English?’ he inquired.

      ‘Yes, senhor.’

      ‘Fine. Well now, I need to get to Zürich just as soon as possible. I er … had a telegram this morning, a friend of mine is seriously ill.’

      The girl looked taken aback. She shook her head. ‘I am sorry, senhor, but … do you not have a reservation?’

      ‘No. See, I only found out this morning. When could you find me a seat?’

      Again she shook her head. She gestured vaguely at the papers in front of her.

      ‘Now is a very busy time for us. There is certainly nothing until early next week, for sure. Of course, there may be cancellations … Have you perhaps a phone number where I could contact you?’

      ‘No, you don’t understand. I have to leave right away, today. You see, my friend … is dying, he …’

      ‘I’m very sorry, senhor, but –’

      ‘Is there no other way I could go today? I don’t have to go directly to Zürich, you see. Perhaps I could go to some other place first … Britain, Paris … I could pick up another flight from there.’

      ‘Well …’ The girl scanned her lists thoughtfully. ‘There’s a place tomorrow night on –’

      ‘Tomorrow night is too late!’ Martin snapped.

      ‘Well then, senhor, I’m afraid that …’

      Martin did not hear the rest of her words. He nodded at her, but her voice did not reach him. This was something he hadn’t figured on. He’d just assumed he’d be able to clamber aboard a plane and take off. If he was obliged to hang around Rio till tomorrow night, he might as well go straight to Caine’s office and turn himself in. He moved away from the desk, his mind turning over furiously. Whatever happened, he had to put as much distance between Rio and himself in the shortest possible time. An internal flight perhaps? Yes, that might be the answer. Brazil was a big country; a simple hop up the coast involved a trip of several thousand miles. Lighting a cigarette, Martin manoeuvred his way across to the local flight desks. Various details were chalked up on blackboards. He found details of a domestic flight to Belém on the north-east coast, at the mouth of the Amazon. There was an overnight stop first at Recife, an eight-hour haul up the coast from Rio; and the second leg across to Belém would involve a journey that was barely shorter. While it was nothing like the distance that Martin wanted to put between himself and Caine it should at least buy him time to wait around for a flight to Europe. Best of all, this flight was due to depart in just under an hour’s time. He inquired at the desk and was relieved to find that there were still a few seats available. He purchased a ticket and strolled gratefully through to the small lounge at the far end of the building. It was quieter here, with only fifteen or so other passengers to worry about. At last he began to feel that his plan could succeed.

      The fan above his head came back into focus. He had drifted for a moment into a half-sleep and his mind was a hazy jumble of confused thoughts. Instinctively, he lifted a hand to stroke the hard shape beneath his shirt. The touch was reassuring, but he was suddenly uneasy. Something had woken him and, sleep-dazed as he was, he could not direct his thoughts to identify whatever it had been. He yawned cavernously, shook his head to clear away the last shreds of sleep. Then the something happened again, making the blood in his veins turn to ice.

      It was the firm, powerful grip of someone’s hand on his shoulder.

Chapter 2

      Mike Stone pushed his foot firmly down on the accelerator, urging the old jeep up to its top speed. The engine growled a noisy mechanical protest, the wheels leaped and bucked over the uneven surface of the road. However, such measures were entirely necessary. Mike was late; he was usually late for something; and there was still a considerable distance to the airport. He sat hunched behind the wheel, his grey eyes fixed on the way ahead. Despite the heat, he wore the scuffed leather flying jacket that was the uniform of his profession. Occasionally, he turned to glance slyly at the woman in the passenger seat, but she was still ignoring him. She leaned back, her eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, her long naturally curly red hair trailing in the wind. In the white cotton blouse and tight navy blue skirt her slim but curvacious body looked particularly inviting. Mike wondered wryly if he’d be able to last out the long trip to Belém without going crazy for her. Her name was Helen Brody; she was Mike’s stewardess and had been for nearly a year now. The two shared several things: a similar sense of humour, a tough, tenacious ability to survive; and on the regular overnight stops in Recife and Belém, a single hotel room and a double bed. It would have been a perfect arrangement but for one major problem: the wife and two children that Mike supported in his home on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro. That was the main reason why Helen had not spoken a word since he had picked her up an hour earlier. Mike appreciated her troubles but didn’t feel inclined to do anything about them.

      Like most airmen, Mike had found himself at the end of the war with few prospects. His role in the affair had not been a martial one though he had seen plenty of action СКАЧАТЬ