Spy in a Little Black Dress - By Maxine Kenneth Page 0,52

just now beginning to pull up. Firemen jumped out and began attaching their hoses to the nearest fire hydrants. Smoke was billowing out of the theatre, and the firemen would have to act fast if they wanted to save it before it was in need of another restoration.

Moe was standing there on the sidewalk, his eyes darting keenly from one crowd of moviegoers to another as they dispersed to make way for the firemen and their equipment. Jackie did her best to blend in with her fellow Draculas. The way the individual crowds had formed, it was impossible, though, for her to avoid passing Moe at close range.

As she came level with him, she drew up the collar of the cape as high as it could go. Jackie avoided meeting his eyes as she walked past Moe in the company of the other Draculas. Her mouth dry, her heart beating at a Souza tempo, she walked by him on his right, the side with the sling, and prayed that he wouldn’t notice her. Moe looked right at her, and for one fleeting moment, Jackie thought that the game was over. But his eyes instantly dismissed her before moving on to the next caped Dracula in the pack.

Once they were down the boulevard and out of Moe’s sight, Jackie separated from the parade of Draculas. She looked back and saw the crisscrossed sprays of the fire hoses as the firemen worked quickly to save the Teatro de Cinema from complete destruction.

On her own, Jackie walked another two blocks before hailing a cab. She gave the driver her destination, then collapsed in the backseat, suddenly exhausted from her ordeal. Her body ached in several places where she had impacted with the chair, and she knew she would have some ugly bruises to show for it by morning. In the meantime, she did have the all-important third reel in her possession. Hugging the messenger bag to her bosom beneath the Dracula cape, she realized that she was going to need a place to screen the footage. Surely the resourceful Emiliano would know of a screening room somewhere in the city where she could watch the reel and find Metzger’s treasure map.

Which reminded her—Emiliano, her handsome but supremely reserved Cuban contact. It was a pleasant diversion to wonder what would happen the next time they encountered each other.

XII

And other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was your evening at the theatre?”

Jackie couldn’t believe it. Here was Emiliano, making a joke, after hearing about her close call the previous evening at El Teatro de Cinema. It was so unlike him that she laughed twice over—once because the joke was so apt, and once because Emiliano’s sudden exhibition of a sense of humor was so delightfully unexpected.

She had been glad to pick up this morning’s paper, Prensa Libre, and read—in her rudimentary Spanish—that the fire at El Teatro de Cinema had been extinguished in time, so, surprisingly, only minimal and readily repairable damage had been done. She was not surprised, however, to see that there was no mention of an attempt to blow up the cinema and assassinate El Presidente. With the newspapers under such close governmental scrutiny, Jackie hadn’t thought that any news of Batista’s narrow escape would ever see the light of day. After all, why put the idea in some fanatic’s head or encourage others to try their hand at putting an end to El Presidente’s latest political incarnation?

“I’m sorry that I underestimated the threat and allowed you to go to the theatre by yourself,” Emiliano said in a sudden shift from the jovial to his usual sober self. In some ways, Jackie thought, Emiliano reminded her of Jacques, able to turn on a dime and go from one emotional state to a diametrically opposite one. With Jacques, it had been carefree Jacques versus secret agent Jacques. With Emiliano, it was serious Emiliano versus, well, a slightly more relaxed version of Emiliano that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared, causing Jackie to wonder whether this fleeting manifestation was just a hopeful fantasy on her part.

Whatever the case, Emiliano was here now and was taking her to the much-anticipated rendezvous with Fidel Castro. On the way, he once again acted as her tour guide to this glamorous city of polo players, race-car drivers, and international playboys. Jackie welcomed this opportunity to have him fill her in on some of the historic locations, places where musicians had fashioned their melodies and poets had crafted their