mg.dictatorofcrime-第12章
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First； one of the group happened to mention to an English…speaking clerk that they were 〃members of Allard's party。〃 The clerk was instantly horrified。
〃There is but one party in Centralba！〃 he exclaimed。 〃The Castenago party！〃
It took a deal of explaining before the clerk could understand the various interpretations of the English term 〃party。〃 After that； Margo and the rest decided to announce themselves simply as 〃friends of Senor Allard。〃
It was funny； too； the way the bellboys hopped about picking up packages of unwanted merchandise； to take back to the shops。 They were doing something most unusual for bellboys： they were refusing tips。 To accept gratuities from anyone important enough to be entertained personally by Castenago； was definitely taboo。
Margo had in idea that the bellhops would get their remuneration later； after Castenago ordered a new press run of currency。
Joining the group； Kent Allard provided the last touch of pleasantry； if it could be called such。 He gave a package to a bellboy； telling him to take it back to the shop where it came from； because the shirts were the wrong size。 He tucked a note into the parcel； to explain the matter fully； and then turned to his friends。
〃I trust the banquet won't be a lavish affair；〃 he said dryly。 〃You understand why； of course。〃
Headshakes proved they didn't understand。 So Allard explained。 It was Castenago's policy to wine and dine his foes； political or otherwise； whenever occasion required。 Such occasion was invariably the death of the enemies in question； usually within the next two days。
Castenago always allowed enough time to pass so that no one would accuse him of having poisoned his guests。 After that； sudden things happened。
Accidents or suicides were the general rule。 Somehow； banqueting with Castenago inspired certain persons to dangerous undertakings； such as taking wild rides along the difficult highways of Centralba just when a bridge was going out or a landslide due to e。 They'd even been known to go climbing volcanoes and slip into the craters。
Others； very curiously； became despondent after dining at the presidential palace。 Such persons always tried to outvie each other in finding unique ways of suicide。
One sample case was that of a political opponent who had actually drunk poisoned wine that he had intended to send to Castenago…so the gatomontes reported。 Finding the dictator to be so kindly a soul； the would…be assassin had bee remorseful and taken his own life。
The listeners began to get uneasy； until Allard reassured them。
〃This is only a ten…course banquet；〃 he stated。 〃Nothing ever happens unless there are more than twelve。〃
〃What about Jose Durez？〃 asked Margo。 〃Did he and his friends dine with Castenago before leaving Centralba？〃
〃They just had a snack；〃 returned Allard。 〃A mere five…course luncheon。
Their mistake was their ignorance of American customs。 Murk Wessel didn't invite them to dinner in Miami Beach； so they weren't prepared for anything to happen。〃
STEPPING from the hotel； Margo paused in amazement to see the plaza thoroughly alive。 The afternoon had cooled； and the citizenry of Libertad was abroad。
Most surprising was the fact that many people looked happy。 They were laughing； chatting； and even singing when they met with strolling groups of musicians who carried odd instruments shaped like guitars。
〃They were the mariachis；〃 explained Allard； referring to the minstrels。
〃You'll see them everywhere in Libertad。 Watch for the marimba players； they're even more interesting。〃
The ride by car to Castenago's palace was quite different from the earlier trip through Libertad。 It was something like a guided tour through the capital； with Allard pointing out the interesting features。
Passing a great market place； where Indians in fanciful silver…buttoned jackets peered from beneath huge sombreros； the car swung around a lavish building of pink stucco that was centered in a tropical garden marvelous in its colorings。
Men were busily at work among the shrubbery； and unlike the natives； they were hard at their tasks。 They didn't even turn when the cars went by。
Evidently these workmen were imports。
〃The new casino；〃 stated Allard。 〃Eventually； it will make Monte Carlo a hamburger stand； in parison。〃
〃Who gambles there？〃 asked Margo。
〃Americans…what few there are in Centralba。 More will e。〃 Allard spoke positively。 〃Castenago isn't trying to hurry them。 The casino； itself； will bring them in time。 It's already attracted some Europeans； who can no longer play at Monte Carlo。〃
Turning through quaint； narrow streets； where upstairs balconies jutted above the shop fronts； the car zigzagged toward the outskirts of the city。 It detoured in order to pass a broad esplanade； fringed with strange tropical trees that half hid some old； yellow buildings that looked like relics from the days of the Spanish conquerors。
Someone was saying that this was the campus of National University； when Allard directed Margo's attention the other way。 He was pointing out the first marimba player that they had seen； and Margo had time to study the musician while the car paused for others to peer at the university。
The marimba player was setting up his instrument on a broad sidewalk opposite the esplanade； while eager natives watched。 His dark face was topped by a fancy…colored bandanna； and his shoes； like his gaudy jacket； had silver buckles。
More interesting to Margo than the bare…legged player； was the marimba itself。 The crude instrument was a long board； with keys much like a xylophone； but beneath the keyboard were hollow gourds。
Two dozen in number； the gourds ranged in size from very small to huge； though the line looked somewhat irregular。 When the player struck the marimba with small hammers； the gourds gave out soft； plaintive tones； perfectly in key。 Evidently they had been matched for sound； rather than appearance； but before Margo could catch the strains of the native melody； the car was on its way。
Through a gateway not far from the marimba player； Margo glimpsed a lovely patio surrounded by a wall。 As they swung the corner to follow the walled estate； Allard spoke。
〃That is where Francisco Peridor lives；〃 he said。 〃He is the head of National University； hence his residence is directly opposite it。〃
Through the slight dusk Margo saw the uniforms of soldiers； patrolling outside the grounds。 She thought that she caught sight of a slinking figure in green…gray； one of the gatomontes。
Margo said nothing； but she felt that she fully understood。 Francisco Peridor； friend of the Centralban people； had been placed under 〃protective custody〃 by Luis Castenago。
The car took another swing and the presidential palace bulked ahead。 It was of modern architecture； but excellent in design； splendid with the blaze of lights that threw scintillating beams upon gushing fountains。
Only briefly did Margo observe a flaw in this glorious sight。 As they flanked the palace； a square； low…roofed extension was visible behind it； forming an ugly contrast to the gorgeous palace。
〃The presidio；〃 remarked Allard； 〃where Castenago keeps his garrison。 Very convenient； to have the military close at hand in case of a revolt。 It helps politically too。 They say that Castenago frequently receives senators through the front door of the palace and bows them out the back…to a jail cell in the presidio。〃
Margo shuddered； for by then； the car had reached the front of the palace and an escort of guards in full…dress uniform were waiting to conduct the guests into Castenago's presence。
All the way up the marble steps that lay between the spraying fountains； Margo kept wondering if she and her friends would e out by the same way！
USHERED to a vast reception room； they were met by Luis Castenago； himself。
The postage stamps didn't do justice to the supreme ruler of Centralba。 No portrait could have properly depicted him。 His face was too mobile to be caught in any fixed pose that could show the evil that it represented。 Just as a snake is terrifying by its writhe； so w
