The Green Hell Treasure by Robert L. Fish

Author:Robert L. Fish [Fish, Robert L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789997512253
Goodreads: 7046528
Publisher: Putnam
Published: 1971-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

“One nice thing about this rambling wreck,” Wilson said genially, “is that it makes me feel at home. It’s about the same age and general state of decrepitude as my own back in Rio.” For a change he was driving the old camper, in the direction of Brighton, with Da Silva leaning back comfortably at his side, smoking a cigarette and enjoying the warm night breeze wafting in through the open windows. Wilson’s voice became a trifle nostalgic. “I really do wonder if it’s stopped raining yet in Rio.”

Da Silva considered his companion curiously.

“Why? I thought you were happy here. I was picturing you asking for a transfer. You like the climate, you’re getting used to the rum, and while we haven’t had time for girls, there certainly doesn’t seem to be any lack of them.” A thought struck him. “Or have you heard a weather report and discovered it also rains in Barbados?”

“Not between December and May,” Wilson said with the firmness of conviction. “And as for the girls,” he added coldly, “it isn’t that we haven’t had time for them, it’s just that you insist on wasting it on less important things, like conferences with policemen, and things like that. Fortunately, I find better things to occupy myself with.” He sighed and came back to his subject. “As for Barbados, well, it’s lovely, but somehow I miss Rio. I miss my apartment and its view and wondering if the maid will show up and if so in what state of euphoria. I miss the smells. I miss that feeling of triumph one gets in crossing the street without being run over—usually by someone going the wrong direction in the wrong lane in a car he doesn’t know how to drive. I miss the awful food. I even miss the noise at the Santos Dumont restaurant. But I think most of all I miss doing a day’s work.”

“What?”

Wilson could imagine the utter look of incredulity on his friend’s face. “Don’t say it, Zé. Your attitude on the work habits of the U.S. Embassy is a matter of record. If you prefer, I’ll say I miss doing half a day’s work.”

“That’s much closer,” Da Silva said, only partially mollified. He suddenly grinned at the other. “You mean, you’ve come to the conclusion that half a loaf is better than a full loaf?”

“I’ve come to the conclusion that being cooped up all day with someone who makes bad puns wasn’t in my contract when I joined Interpol,” Wilson said stiffly. “But, yes, if you want to put it that way. This sitting and waiting for something to happen is all right for a while, but it’s been more than two weeks and I’ve about had it.”

Da Silva became serious. He flipped his cigarette out the open window of the car and turned, staring at Wilson behind the wheel.

“Something’s happening. The trouble is we don’t know what it is. Or where it’s happening. I just hope nothing’s happening to Diana.” He turned back to stare out over the ocean.

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