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"What do they know? Besides, that's not a sufficient sampling."
"Will Sparey," repeated Jake.
Removing his dark glasses, the small man asked, "What do you know about his
alleged disappearance years ago, Cardigan?"
"Not much. The story at the time was that a band of. guerrillas in a wild part
of Mato Grosso killed him."
"That's all that was. A story." Setting his glasses aside, Sargento fished a
vial of clear liquid from the breast pocket of his plaid jacket. Eye droPs
While Sargento was lubricating his eyes, Gomez suggested, "Suppose you tell us
what really happened."
"That's exactly what I intend to do, Gomez. Edna, a pot of mint tea and the
usual trimmings. Put it on this gent's bill. That's allright by you, isn't it,
Cardigan?"
"Yeah," said Jake. "Now tell us something."
"The air in Rio really bothers my eyes." He slipped the vial away.
"Sparey wasn't killed by anyone. He's still alive." From a side pocket he drew
an electro comb and flicked it on. "You see, while he was covering the last
war, he met some people." Sargento began working
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on his hair with the humming comb.
"What people?"
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"Chief among them was... Ah, thank you, Edna."
The robot waitress had lurched over to their booth and slammed a tray down in
front of Sargento. "You're looking quite dapper tonight, Sarge," she observed
in a rusty voice.
"You really think so? Does my hair look okay to you?"
"It looks right lovely."
"You see, Edna, I had an encounter earlier in the evening with some fellows
who mussed me up."
"It doesn't show. You look absolutely--" "That'll be all," Gomez told her.
"Very well, sir, I'm sure."
"Wait a minute, Edna. I want your opinion of my eyes." "Soulful."
"They've been awfully bloodshot of late."
"Oh, they're bloodshot, Sarge, but that doesn't prevent them from still
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being very soulful. Not a bit, no," said the robot waitress. "Oh, and
I'm sorry about the ruddy dust on the plum cake. It's the last blinking slice
and, wouldn't you know, I went and dropped it a few times back in the blooming
pantry."
"Don't worry, Edna."
Jake urged, "Get back to Sparey."
Sargento applied the electro comb to the greying hair at his left
temple. "I've found that personal appearance is all important in this world.
That and taking the time to be cordial to--"
"Apparently your good grooming didn't impress the Betan-courts." Gomez reached
across the table and took hold of the man's arm. "Concentrate on informing us
about Sparey, Sarge."
"A little background is called for, Gomez. Which is what I've been attempting
to provide you." He extricated his arm. "Sparey, you see, went to work for the
biggest Tek cartel in these parts. It was run back then by a gentleman named
Antonio Bulcfio." He shut off his comb.
"Sparey, so I've been told, had a lot of debts."
He glanced over at Jake for confirmation.
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Jake nodded. "He liked to gamble."
"That's why he went to work for Bulco, using many of the contacts he had here
in Brazil," said the small man. "He kept getting increasingly involved in the
Tek trade, may even have helped kill a few of the cartel's rivals. Finally, so
I've been told, he decided it would be much safer if the world thought he'd
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passed on."
"Why didn't he let his daughter know what he was going to do?"
"He thought it would be best if she really thought he was dead and gone.
Sparey did, however, set up a trust fund for her, which was administered
anonymously," continued Sargento. "He didn't anticipate, obviously, that the
kid could get hooked on Tek herself or that she'd come down here to look for
traces of him."
"She's been on Tek for years," mentioned Gomez. "How come Sparey is just now
getting around to wanting to see her?"
"Hard to say. Maybe it's because he heard she was about to croak." He shrugged
his narrow shoulders. "All I know for certain is that Sparey wants to quit the
Tek trade, but is afraid that Bulco's people won't let him. So he got word to
Jean Marie and instructed her to contact
Cardigan for him. See, Cardigan, he trusts you." Sargento pressed his palm
against the side of the teapot. "He wants somebody to come get
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him and escort him safely to Rio. Then he plans to talk to the
International Drug Control Agency, exchange what he knows for protection. He
wants to see his daughter before she dies, too."
"She thinks the guys who contacted her are with the BulcSo outfit,"
said Jake. "How does that work?"
"No, they used to be, but not now. They're friends of Sparey, though, and they
took a risk for him. Contacted Jean Marie, filled me in, then took off for
elsewhere."
"This is just talk," Jake said. "So far."
The small man reached inside his plaid coat, producing a three dimensional
photo. He handed it across. "Is that him?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]