Spy in a Little Black Dress - By Maxine Kenneth Page 0,95

the very first time.

Without a word, he passed the document back to Jackie, once more bypassing the Mambo King, who didn’t appreciate being ignored in this fashion. She looked it over and started laughing too. Jackie knew enough Spanish to understand that the document attested that, on September 3, 1857, a baby girl had been born to William Walker and Maria Consuela Garcia in the province of Santiago de Cuba, the original name for Oriente Province. The name of the baby girl was Josefina Luisa Walker. And the birth certificate was witnessed by one James Metzger.

At last Jackie understood the true meaning of Metzger’s words from his diary. Walker’s treasure had not been a literal one. No gold or jewels were involved. No, his treasure, according to the poetically inclined Metzger, was the child that a pregnant Maria Consuela was carrying in her belly and transporting from Nicaragua to Cuba. It was all there in the diary entries. All one had to do was read between the lines and Metzger’s meaning became clear. You could easily chalk up this misunderstanding to the man’s nineteenth-century sense of circumspection and rectitude.

“What does that thing say?” the Mambo King demanded.

“It says there is no treasure,” Jackie told him.

“No treasure,” roared the Mambo King. “What do you mean, no treasure? That’s impossible.”

“It’s not only possible; it’s true,” Jackie countered. As proof, she lifted up the sea chest and upended it. Of course, nothing fell out of it save for some clods of dirt and a few stray scraps of yellowed book paper. At the sight of this, the Mambo King’s face turned red, then purple. He looked like he was about to have a stroke. Or explode. He walked off several feet, raised his machine gun, and fired off a one-armed burst into the air. Jackie instinctively winced at the incessant chattering sound made by the weapon.

“No damned treasure,” he roared.

Jackie could well understand his anger. If she were the Mambo King, she wouldn’t know how to offer this bad news to his boss, Sam Giancana, either. She had been in his company only once, but he looked like the type who would be more than happy to kill the messenger for the unhappy news he delivered.

“Just one thing I don’t understand,” Emiliano said, interrupting the Mambo King’s tirade. “Why did Metzger go to all this trouble to bury a birth certificate?”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Jackie said. “I imagine that Walker made many powerful enemies. Cornelius Vanderbilt, for instance. Maybe Metzger figured that Walker’s enemies would try to strike out at him through his child. So, loyal soldier that he was, he decided to keep the birth of Walker’s daughter a secret from the world. But he left clues in his diary so that future generations would know the truth.”

“What are you two jabberin’ about?” asked the Mambo King, looking from Jackie to Emiliano, then back again, his machine gun once again trained on them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Jackie said as matter-of-factly as possible. “There’s no treasure here, and that’s that.” She tucked the letter and the silver half locket back inside the envelope, then placed the envelope in one of her pockets.

“Es verdad,” added Emiliano.

“Sorry, Pancho, but I don’t speak the language,” the Mambo King said, thrusting his machine gun in Emiliano’s direction.

“The name’s not Pancho; it’s Emiliano. But that’s only for my friends. And you’re no friend of mine.”

“I could kill you, you know,” the Mambo King said menacingly. “Your companion too,” he said, indicating Jackie, who shrank back from the threat.

“Yes, but you won’t,” countered Emiliano. “I know it, and you know it. And do you know why you won’t kill us?”

“Why?”

“Because we’re not worth it, are we?”

The Mambo King looked momentarily stumped, then said, “That never stopped me before.”

“This time’s different, though,” Emiliano went on. “Too many powerful people know we’re here. Colonel Sanchez will have you clapped in irons in the Presidio Modelo before you can board the next boat or plane off this island.” Jackie knew that Emiliano was referring to the notorious prison located on the Isla de Pinos, which, with its hellish living conditions and dreaded solitary confinement cells, could give Devil’s Island a run for the money.

“So that’s why you’re going to let us live,” he continued. “Because you’ve already calculated the odds, and they’re not in your favor.”

“You should go work at a casino, you know that?”

“I worked my way through law school as a croupier at the casino in the Hotel