The Quest

Getachu seemed deep in thought, then began, “A company of my soldiers occupied the Italian spa, where they found empty cans of food and tire tracks.” He looked at Purcell. “You were there?”

Purcell replied, “We said we were.”

“Correct.” He continued, “My men also found fresh earth which they took to be a grave, and which they dug up.” He asked his guests, “Did you dig that grave?”

The easy answer, Purcell thought, was, Yes, so what? But Getachu was not asking out of idle curiosity, and a better answer might be no. Vivian, however, had taken a photograph of the grave, and her camera was sitting on Getachu’s desk. Still, they could deny digging the grave, and he would have done so if it was only he and Vivian answering this psychopath’s questions; but Henry, he realized, was ready to say or do anything to save himself from death or torture. Some men, like Gann, could hang from a pole all night and say, “Kiss my arse.” Others, like Henry, cracked easy and early. But Purcell couldn’t judge Mercado unless he himself had been hanging from the next pole.

“Did you dig that grave?”

Purcell replied, “We did.”

“Who did you bury?”

“We buried who you dug up.”

“My men dug up the body of an old man, Mr. Purcell. I am asking you who it was.”

“A man we found dying in the spa.”

“Why was he dying?”

“He had a stomach wound.”

“How did he get this wound?”

“I have no idea.”

“Did you not speak to him?”

Purcell thought it was time to turn this over to Henry to see what, if anything, he had to say about this, so he replied, “The man spoke Italian and I do not.”

Getachu looked at Mercado. “Doctor Mato informs me that you speak Italian.”

Mercado nodded.

“Did you speak to this dying man?”

“I… I did… but, he died before I could… find out much about him.”

Purcell was not completely surprised that Mercado was keeping a secret from Getachu, because to Mercado it was a secret worth keeping.

Getachu looked long at Mercado. “If you are lying to me, I will find out and then we have no agreement, Mr. Mercado. And then… well, you have sealed your fate.”

Mercado kept eye contact with Getachu. “The man died without telling us who he was.”

Getachu kept staring at him, then shifted his attention to Vivian. “And Doctor Mato informs me that you speak Italian.”

“I do.”

“And what did this dying man say to you?”

Purcell wondered if Vivian would take this opportunity to repay Mercado for not firmly defending her against Getachu’s charges of spying. But women, Purcell had learned, are loyal to men who don’t deserve loyalty. On the other hand, it was Vivian who’d been disloyal first, and probably she was feeling as guilty as Henry was feeling angry. Sex has consequences beyond the act.

“Miss Smith?”

Vivian replied, “The man said nothing more to me than he said to Mr. Mercado.”

“How convenient. Well, let me tell you who I think this old man was. It could only have been Father Armano.” He looked at his guests. “As I’m sure he told you.”

No one replied, and Getachu continued, “Two nights ago, one of my artillery batteries bombarded the nearby fortress of Ras Theodore, who is of the family of my present guest, Joshua. Within this fortress was this Father Armano, who had been imprisoned there since the days of the Italian war.” He asked his guests, “Do you know this story?”

Vivian and Mercado shook their heads.

Getachu went on, “The bombardment attracted the attention of the Gallas, as it always does, and they descended on the fortress and massacred the Royalist survivors, though some managed to flee into the jungle. But my infantry company captured some of these men and brought them here. In fact, you may have seen these soldiers of Ras Theodore hanging outside this tent alongside the soldiers of Ras Joshua.”

Getachu lit another cigarette, sipped some water, then continued. “But before they were brought here, they were brought back to their fortress. Why? To assist my men in determining the fate of Father Armano-and as they discovered, the prison cell of this priest was empty, and the captured soldiers could not identify a body as that of the priest. But they did find a Bible, in Italian, on the floor of his cell, with a hole in it-perhaps a bullet hole. So it is my assumption that the wounded man you discovered was Father Armano.” He looked at his guests closely, then asked Mercado directly, “Why do you think this priest who you came upon was so important?”

Mercado replied, “I don’t know.”

“Then I will tell you. Well, perhaps I won’t. You seem to have no information about this man or this matter, so we have nothing to discuss, and you have nothing to trade for your freedom or your lives.”

Purcell said, “I hope you had the decency to rebury the old man.”

“I have no idea if he was reburied, and I don’t care if the jackals eat his body. But it is interesting that you took the time and effort to give an unknown man a burial.”

“Interesting to you. Common decency to us.”

“I don’t like your attitude of moral superiority, Mr. Purcell. I had enough of that in school.”

“Apparently not.”