Spy in a Little Black Dress - By Maxine Kenneth Page 0,36

building. She imagined that the place was overrun by bedbugs and that the water in the taps must run brown from rust. She shuddered at the thought of staying there and tried to challenge Rosario’s choice by saying, “Here?”

“Sí.”

“But what about my bags? My clothes.”

“Don’t worry. I will go to your hotel. And once I see that the coast is clear, I will get your things and bring them here to you.”

Jackie shuddered once again at the thought of what was in store for her once she crossed the threshold of this hotel. Rosario must have detected her lack of enthusiasm for the choice of accommodations.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “it won’t be so bad. And it will probably only be for one night. I’m sure Emiliano will pick out another place for the rest of your stay that will be safe from prying eyes.

“He wants to meet with you tonight. I can’t reveal the location now. But I will come at eight and take you to him. In fact, I will be back earlier with your clothes so you have enough time to change.”

“And how shall I dress for this meeting with Emiliano?”

Rosario thought about it, then answered, “Have you ever danced the mambo?”

Jackie shook her head and said, “Not really.” She would have to go through her luggage and see if she had packed anything appropriate in which to dance the mambo. A dance that she didn’t know but that she would have to pick up on the fly, which seemed to be the way almost everything on one of these espionage assignments came to her.

With a sigh, Jackie got out of the truck and walked up the steps to the hotel entrance. All of a sudden, she felt tired from the events of the past few hours, and badly in need of a nap, and knew that nothing, not even bedbugs or a sagging mattress, was going to keep her from her much needed date with oblivion. She just hoped that if she dreamed, it wouldn’t be of crocodiles.

IX

What is Fernando Lamas doing riding around with Rosario in that old pickup truck? Jackie wondered when Rosario showed up at her fleabag hotel to drop off her clothes. She had been waiting for Rosario outside, and the tall, lean Hispanic man emerging from the passenger side of the truck looked exactly like the Latin lover whose dark, wavy hair, caramel-colored skin, and gleaming white teeth had made him a sensation in Hollywood.

But this handsome young man walking toward her was unsmiling and carried himself stiffly, a serious-minded individual apparently, who had no use for glamour.

“This is Emiliano Martinez,” Rosario told Jackie, nodding toward the man walking beside her, carrying Jackie’s suitcase.

Her Cuban contact, but why had he come here?

“Pleased to meet you, Emiliano,” Jackie said. “Has there been a change in plans? I thought Rosario was going to bring me to meet you at a club somewhere at eight o’clock tonight.”

“She was, but I had some spare time before our Castro emissary will be at the club, and I thought you might enjoy a little sightseeing in our beautiful city,” Emiliano said in textbook English with scarcely a hint of a Cuban accent.

Beautiful city? Jackie almost laughed out loud as she looked askance at the dilapidated hotel behind her, and Emiliano quickly added, “I’m afraid your temporary lodgings haven’t given you a fair impression of Habana Vieja, and I’d like to correct that, if I might.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Jackie said with a warm smile, grateful to have someone show her something of the town other than a crocodile pit. “Just give me a few moments to change, and I’ll be right down.”

“Excellent,” Emiliano said, handing Jackie her suitcase. “I’ll wait for you out here. Rosario has to leave.”

Wear something to dance the mambo in if we’re going to a club later, Jackie told herself as she searched through the clothes in her suitcase. This’ll do, she thought, pulling out a sultry but still elegant off-the-shoulder Coco Chanel black cocktail dress with a cinch waistline and a curve-hugging skirt. The floral print seemed perfect for dancing the night away in Havana, although, judging by Emiliano’s straitlaced demeanor, she doubted that she’d get to do much dancing.

Rosario had already left when Jackie rejoined Emiliano in front of the hotel.

“Are you ready to see the town, Miss Bouvier?” Emiliano asked, sounding like a trolley car conductor, completely indifferent to how she looked in her Coco Chanel. God, he’s as stiff