THE SPANISH WAITER: NINE

Two national authorities against each other...

The bar of the Pyramido Hotel was quiet but Ivan couldn’t tear his eyes from the three figures as they seemed to glide from the door towards the bar, which was at the far side of the room from the entrance. The man leading the way was clearly the living corpse that had cost him twelve years and just about everyhting that was important in his life and he stared unblinkingly and malevolently towards Ivan and Geraldine.

When the three were merely a few feet away they stopped as though controlled by a single brain, and the leader smiled the sort of smile nobody wants to see on any face and least of all on a face he had spent twelve years believing to be dead and buried somewhere unknown by man and hopefully beast.

“So are you following me?” asked he who Ivan knew as Gaddy Carter or the nickname Bonehead..

“Yeah,” added the woman who was standing far enough behind him to allow all to be aware of her subservience, “are you following us?”

For a few moments Ivan was lost for words. Was he following them? It didn’t make sense because as far as he knew if anyone was following anybody it was them following him. In the end,

“I don’t choose to follow dead men,” he replied.

Boney grinned. “Very funny,” he said, “very witty. Very droll.”

“Droll,” echoed the woman called Murial.

“Very,” confirmed Sparky.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bar to tend to,” said Ivan, putting as much authority into his voice as he could, and his previous life as a teacher had equipped him with a little experience in the assumption of authority.

“Not so fast,” growled Boney, “I want to know what you’re planning.”

“We want to know,” parroted Murial.

“All of us,” confirmed Sparky.

“It’s important, you see,”growled Boney.

“Important,” grinned Murial, flicking her hair back with swish of two fingers.

“Very,” almost snarled Sparky

As the rally of unnecessary words went backwards and forwards only Geraldine noticed the silent sntrance of Tomas hand in hand with Valentina, in uniform because she had called in to the hotel after work to eat with her other half.

“You see,” growled Boney, taking a deep breath and determined to make himself clear as day, “it’s important from the perspective of the firm. My Governor will be sitting at his desk knowing that all is well in his kingdom. He needs to know such things so that he can green light whatever it is the men and women in Westminster want to do. So if you’re intent on pursuing your own agenda, let’s say it’s to do with several years behind bars while you were totally innocent of a crime that hadn’t even been committed when you were sentenced, and you must believe I really am sorry but sometimes it’s quite necessary for there to be, what shall we call it? Collateral damage when the national stakes are high. And if you were to feel it only right and proper to set the score straight by actually and rather belatedly committing the crime for which youve already been punished, then let me tell you that you haven’t got a hope in hell of doing it.”

“Who are you?” demanded Geraldine.

“My dear lady, you no doubt haven’t signed the Official Secrets Act and if I were to mention anything sensitive I’d be in one hell of a stink when I got back to the Firm. So I can’t even tell you who I am, but you can probably guess.”

“And I’ll bet you’re equally unable to say why you had to stand by while Ivan wasted away in jail,” growled Geraldine, “your type make me sick! Wafting around the Official Secrets Act as if it was a pass into Heaven when it’s my opinion it’s more likely to be a ticket to hell!”

“Oh I can tell you so much,” smiled Boney in a very superior way, as though he believed that the contents of his memory was everything, “I can tell you that there was an urgent request for back-up by the firm because there was a suspected terrorist ring in Brumpton. It was the job of my cell, that’s the three of us you see before you, to deal with it, and so deal with it we did.”

“And after you’d dealt with whatever it was it was quite necessary for me to languish behind bars,” sighed Ivan, “that’s the trouble with men like you, Bonehead, you’ve got small minds.”

“And even smaller dicks,” growled Geraldine.

“Anyway, enough small talk,” grated Boney, offended, “it seems that the state is at the crossroads. I’m afraid, Mr Jailbird, you’re under arrest and must return to England with me and my colleagues post haste. You must understand that the safety of the state is of paramount importance.”

A new voice interrupted him. It was the unnoticed Valentina, still holding hands with Tomas, and still in uniform.

“Just a moment,” she said, a sharp edge to her voice, “Mr Bonehead or whatever you like to be called, you might be a British agent, but this is isn’t Britain and you have no authority here! I am a senior police officer and if anyone if going to do any arresting it’s me! So, Mr Bonehead and your friends, let me see you passports. Right now!”

“Goodness gracious, petty parochial officialdom!” sighed Boney, “what would the world be like without such people, I wonder? But Murial, you put yourself in charge of our passports etcetera, so show them to the lady and then we can get on with out own duties and take Mr Maybe back to his homeland where he can answer to the Governor as to what he is doing in Spain.”

“Our passports?” asked Murial, paling. “They’re on the coach! You remember, you made us get off before we’d gone more than a kilometre or two. All our papers are in our overnight bags, that we left behind.”

“But I told you not to let them out of your sight!” snapped Boney, “I tell you what, Miss Saint John, wait until the Governor hears about this piece of inefficiency! You had orders, and you disobeyed them! I don’t hold out much hope for you continuing in your position in the Firm! The Governor will have you sweeping the floors and washing pots when he hears about this!”

Murial Saint John had spent the last thirty years in Boney’s cell and had accompanied him on several important missions, but she knew quite a lot about his weaknesses and he knew it when he threatened her. His only trouble was he’d temporarily forgotten what he knew, that both she and Sparky could paint dire picture of some of his his own inabilities if put to the test.

“Remember why Mr Maybe was made into a scapegoat?” asked Murial in front of witnesses, her voice level and firm “and remember why you’re scared of him now!”

Boney blushed. It was rare for anyone to speak to him like she was, and yet it brought back to the front of his mind what he’d temporarily forgotten.

“We’ll see,” he growled, “We’ll very see!”

© Peter Rogerson, 02.11.22

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