Mercenary Read online

  All summer it continued: furtive glances and surreptitious messages followed by secret picnics and stolen kisses. The town gossips suspected a romance. The barflies knew someone had turned Lee’s head; he only avoided the putas when he was in the first flush of love, they argued. When he began tinkering with the engine of his motor launch, rumors intensified. He was to elope once more and marry the Culotta girl before her parents could stop him. The giddy talk must have reached Ida’s parents, for they barred the windows of their home and added new locks to their door. Captain Culotta muttered something about burglars, but everyone knew it wasn’t his possessions he was worried about.

  Once Lee saw the newly barred windows, he decided to act.

  75

  Taking a leave of absence, Lee took the toy train up to San Pedro Sula and then rode the remaining distance to the capital. Salvatore Culotta—Ida’s older brother—was working in Tegucigalpa as a manager for one of the fruit companies. Lee felt more than a little nervous going to Salvatore’s home. He’d tried to convince him to meet in a cantina, but Ida’s brother had insisted. As Lee approached the house, he once more wished the meeting was taking place on neutral ground, somewhere he could control the flow of liquor to ensure enough kept coming to soften his edges.

  “I can see you are a practical man,” Lee said, sipping coffee in Salvatore’s living room. He’d noted the clean but Spartan house on entry. “I’ll state my case plainly.”

  “I would appreciate that.” Ida’s brother was giving nothing away.

  Lee set down his cup. “You’re aware of the situation with me and Ida?”

  “I’m aware that my father won’t countenance a match, and that my mother has forbidden any contact.”

  “And I’ve respected that,” said Lee. He paused, trying to figure this guy out. “More or less,” he added, waggling his hand.

  Salvatore allowed himself a brief smile. “I’m not sure what there is to discuss.”

  “I have a proposal.”

  The man’s face darkened. “If you think you can buy my sister.” He stood, balling his fists. “I’ll lick you right here and now. I don’t care who you are.”

  Lee remained seated, holding up his palms. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all,” he said in the most soothing tone he could muster. “I should have chosen my words more carefully.”

  Salvatore’s face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m s-sorry,” he stammered. “I thought—”

  “It’s all right,” interrupted Lee. “This is a delicate matter.” He waited while Salvatore sat back down. “But I promised to speak plainly, so here it is.”

  Salvatore nodded.

  “I’m not giving up the chase,” he said. “This isn’t some kind of passing fancy.” He cleared his throat. “I’m in love.”

  “And Ida?”

  Lee shook his head. “I don’t know, to be frank.”

  “Well…”

  “But she seems to reciprocate. At least, I know she cares for me.”

  “It might be nothing more than an infatuation,” said Salvatore.

  “True,” conceded Lee.

  “Girls grow up quicker than boys,” he said.

  Lee nodded, giving him room to say his piece. “She might just be flattered by the attentions of a powerful man.”

  “All of this is possible,” said Lee, noting the surprise on Salvatore’s face when he agreed with him. “Which is why I’m also keen to tread as carefully as possible.”

  Salvatore held his gaze, considering what Lee had said. He tapped his chin with his forefinger. “You mentioned something about a proposal back there, before I got ahead of myself.”

  Lee chuckled, waving a hand. “Understandable,” he said. “But my proposal is this.” He set his cup down. “The only way we’ll find out if this is an infatuation or whether those feelings are real is if me and Ida are allowed spend time together.”

  Salvatore shook his head.

  “Strictly chaperoned, of course,” Lee added.

  Ida’s brother pursed his lips.

  “We’ve hardly had a chance to talk since I asked for her hand.” Lee paused, deciding to risk it. “You know what women are like. Deny them something and they’ll want it twice as much.”

  Salvatore went to speak, but Lee raised his hands to forestall him. “All I’m talking about is taking an evening stroll together—under strict supervision, as I said. Maybe dropping by the house for dinner.” He could see Salvatore’s resistance waning. “Nothing more.”

  “It’s not my decision.”

  “I understand that.” Lee decided to press the matter. “But this is the only way to see if there is a serious basis for the relationship.” He paused. “And, of course, your father would still have to agree to any match.”

  Salvatore stood, hands on his hips. “I’m not making any promises. I don’t even know how I feel about it myself. But I can see you’re a decent sort.” He smiled, finally. “Persistent, too. And I respect that you came to talk to me.”

  “I appreciate your time.” Lee put on his hat.

  “I’ll pass on what you said, but it is out of my hands.” He walked Lee to the door.

  With some reluctance, the Culottas welcomed Lee back into their home. He was permitted to see their daughter, but only under strict supervision. He called for dinner, breaking bread with the family around their small dining table. In the evenings, he took Ida for an evening stroll, always accompanied by a relative. However, when it was her sister’s turn to accompany them, she gave them plenty of time on their own once out of sight of the town.

  When he felt the Culotta’s anger had dissipated, and that they had begun to accept him as a genuine suitor for Ida’s hand, he pressed for a commitment. Finally, after Lee agreed to be baptized into the Catholic Church, a date was set: December 2, 1914.

  76

  Though Lee had been thrice married, none of his previous nuptials had been marked with a formal ceremony. Determined to make it the biggest celebration Puerto Cortés had ever witnessed, he spared no expense. He sent diamonds to New Orleans to be set into a wedding ring for Ida, and, finding the bakers and florists lacking in expertise to match his exacting demands, he arranged for a giant cake and a huge shipment of flowers to arrive by steamer the day before the ceremony. He also chartered two ships to ferry in friends from La Ceiba and Puerto Barrios. To entertain all of the guests, an orchestra was hired from San Pedro Sula, and a marimba from Guatemala. Lee’s daughter Sadie was making the dress for a bride who was several years her junior.

  Guy Molony arrived the day before the ceremony, although he hadn’t responded to the invitation. “Aw, you knew I was coming anyway,” he said. “Why waste the stamp?”

  Lee chuckled and led him down to the cantina. “Hotel’s kind of busy at the moment,” he explained. “Besides, every time I show my face there, something else seems to go wrong.”

  Guy stood aside to let Lee walk through the door first. “Best get in there and get hidden, then.” He clapped Lee on the back.

  “Spit it out,” Lee said, eyeing Molony as they sipped their first drink.

  “What?”

  “You’ve had something on the tip of your tongue since you got here.”

  Molony allow himself a smile and punched Lee on the shoulder.

  “Now spill, goddamn it.”

  He waved a hand. “It’s nothing.”

  “Spill.”

  “Just curious if this is it for you now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m sure I’m not the first to say it, but this is wife number four.”

  Lee eyeballed him, waiting for him to finish.

  “Two more and you got the set,” said Guy.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Molony cradled his glass. “Met this guy in the Philippines. Dunno what his name was, but everyone called him Wolfy.”

  Lee wasn’t sure where this was going.

  “Anyway,” Guy continued, sipping his drink. “Can�
��t remember what age he was, but he was younger than you.” Molony smiled. “And he already had five ex-wives!”

  “Damn,” said Lee.

  “When I was on shore leave with him, he’d spend half his time chasing tail, always using the same line.”

  “Which was?”

  Guy smirked. “Wanna be my next ex-wife?”

  Lee chuckled.

  “See, he had this dream. His coffin getting carried out of the church, borne by his six ex-wives.” Guy paused. “All of ’em weeping.”

  Lee grabbed him in a headlock and slapped him playfully in the face.

  Molony squirmed free. “Not sure you want a black eye, what with your big day tomorrow and all.”

  Lee paused. “Good to see you again.” They clinked glasses. “Even if you are a rat bastard.”

  “Thought I’d find you here,” said a voice behind them. They turned to see Ed McLaurie. Guy jumped out of his seat. “Shit, Ed. How long’s it been?”

  “Not long enough.” He jabbed Molony in the ribs.

  “How’s the coconut farm?”

  “Plantation,” corrected McLaurie, before they all laughed. He turned to Lee. “They’re looking for you back at the hotel.”

  “What’s new?”

  “Some problem with the ring.”

  Lee jumped up and darted out the door, running all the way to the hotel, only to find his well-laid plans unraveling. The boat had arrived without either the flowers or the cake. Worse again, the messenger sent to New Orleans, the one who’d been carrying all those diamonds, had absconded. Lee was absorbing the disastrous news when Ed and Guy caught up with him at the hotel. After he filled them in, the boys offered their help. Lee sent Ed to find a local pastry chef and press-gang him into service.

  “Whatever it takes,” said Lee. “But I gotta warn you, he’s already sore he didn’t get the gig in the first place.” McLaurie nodded and headed out the door.

  He turned to Molony. “Get up to the cuartel and send someone on the banana train to San Pedro.” He thought for a moment. “Can’t remember her goddamn size, and I’m not bothering her with any of this.” He tapped the bar, trying to jog his memory. “Screw it,” he said. “Tell ’em to get two plain gold bands.”

  “No diamonds this time?” asked Molony.

  Lee almost swung at him.

  “I’m kidding,” said Guy, backing away toward the door. “Kidding.”

  Lee turned to the bartender. “Alberto, get a few helpers and head down to the seafront. You know them gardens with all the nice flowers?” The bartender nodded. “We’ll have to make our own bouquets.”

  Lee took a breath.

  The ceremony wasn’t as grand as originally planned, but everyone pitched in to make sure things went smoothly. Lee didn’t sleep at all the night before, and he was still fretting and sweating as he stood at the head of the assembled guests in the Palm Hotel. As he fidgeted with his cufflinks for the umpteenth time, Guy leaned in. “You got the rings, right?”

  Lee turned to him, ready to explode, struggling to keep his voice down. “Damn it, I ask you to do one—”

  He was cut short by the band launching into the wedding march. Lee turned his head to see Ida entering on the arm of her father. His legs quivered as he took in the sight; he’d never seen her look so beautiful. Captain Culotta began to lead her down the aisle, and Lee turned back to Molony.

  “Kidding,” he said. “Just kidding.”

  Lee shook his head, and turned to face the still-smirking priest.

  77

  Lee’s lengthy pursuit of Ida had distracted him from the turmoil brewing in Honduras. Bonilla’s replacement, Dr. Bertrand, faced opposition to his candidacy in the upcoming vote. Several powerful factions had their eye on his office, all pointing to a potentially bothersome clause in the Constitution that precluded a president from succeeding himself. Dr. Bertrand’s supporters countered he was merely completing Bonilla’s term and so remained free to contest the election. With figures in both parties jockeying for position to undermine Bertrand, one of Lee’s sidelines began garnering attention—an informal lottery in Puerto Cortés, in competition with the government’s own efforts.

  Popularity became its downfall. Everyone knew the government lottery was rigged; as soon as an alternative appeared, the starry-eyed dreamers toughing it on the plantations bought tickets in their droves. After losses spread among the banana pickers and stevedores, one of Dr. Bertrand’s ministers—a prickly fellow Lee had tangled with before—had the perfect excuse to shut the lottery down. Lee flew into a rage and immediately telegrammed his resignation to Tegucigalpa.

  The following morning, he dallied at the kitchen table, Ida glancing at the clock and raising an eyebrow. She took the coffee pot from the counter and topped up his cup. Lingering beside him for a moment, she put a hand on the back of his head. “What’s going on in there?”

  “Huh?”

  “For starters.” She placed the pot back down on the counter. “You’re stirring that cup like nobody’s business, even though you haven’t put sugar in.” Lee shot her a foolish grin and reached for the sugar. His wife glanced at the clock once more. “Plus, I couldn’t normally pay you to stay past nine.”

  “Aw, that’s not true,” said Lee.

  “Sure it is.” Her eyes dancing, she opened the top button of her blouse. “No matter how I might try to dissuade you.” She unbuttoned the next.

  Lee smiled, sipping his coffee. “You better cut that out before you get yourself into trouble.”

  “Really?” She grinned impishly as she popped the next button, exposing a glimpse of bodice. “I’m sorry. It’s just awfully hot this morning.” She turned her face up to the ceiling fan, letting the air ripple through her blouse.

  Lee’s mouth hung open as Ida popped the second-last button. She moved toward the door. “In fact,” she said, stepping through the frame, out of view. “It’s so hot, I think I’ll go lie down.” Ida held her blouse through the doorway, and then dropped it.

  Lee was out of his chair before the fabric hit the floor.

  After they made love, Lee and Ida lay on the bed, letting the fan wash cool air over their naked bodies. He felt her take his hand, and squeeze it. “What’s worrying you?”

  He exhaled. “The resignation.”

  “I figured as much. But you’ve been here before.”

  Lee propped himself up on his elbows. “You know, every time I resigned before, I always had a little voice in my head wondering what I’d do if they accepted. But deep down, I always knew I was safe. This time?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I haven’t been in Tegus for a while. Things are changing, and I’m out of the loop.” He turned on his side, leaned his head on his palm, and gazed into her eyes. “And I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”

  She matched his stare for a moment. Smiling, she said, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Lee flipped onto his back and blew through his lips.

  “I mean it.” Ida leaned over him, gazing at him intently. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “They could accept.”

  She laughed and sat up in bed, turning to face him. “And would that be the end of the world?”

  Lee struggled to respond, but she tapped him on the nose. “Silly.” She swung a leg over to straddle him. “And I’m sure a man of your considerable talents, and energy, will find a use for himself.”

  He blinked. “Even if it means leaving here?”

  She nodded and leaned down to kiss him. “Long as we’re together,” she whispered.

  The news still hit him hard. When he reached the cuartel later that morning, there were no telegrams summoning him to Tegucigalpa, no pleas to reconsider from Dr. Bertrand. Instead, a short message from his cabinet secretary formally accepted his resignation. Lee was informed that a temporary comandante was en route, and he would be relieved of duty that afternoon.

  He began clearing his desk.

  78

  Lee carri
ed a box of his possessions down to the Palm Hotel and deposited them in a corner, immediately signaling the bartender for a drink. Instead of approaching the bar as usual, he took a table near the box at the back of the room, where he was less likely to be spotted by passersby. The bartender hovered beside the table. Lee took a sip and then looked up at him. “What’s up?”

  “That’s the last of the whiskey.

  Lee put a puro between his lips. “I signed an order two weeks ago.”

  “You did,” said Alberto, backing away slightly. “But the distributor must have misplaced it. I’ve reordered more, but we’ll have no whiskey for a couple of weeks.”

  “Goddamn it.” Lee took the unlit puro from his mouth and threw it on the table. “What else? There must be something else, or you wouldn’t still be hovering there.”

  “Room Twelve,” the bartender said. “Someone tipped over a pail, and it leaked into the room below.”

  He sighed. “What’s the damage?”

  “We’ll have some plastering to do, but can’t tell how much until it dries out.”

  “Okay.” Lee took a gulp of whiskey. “Can we stick the guest for any of the damages?”

  Alberto paused. “He’s already checked out.”

  Lee smacked the table. “Didn’t I tell you guys to check the rooms before the guests check out?”

  “He checked out late,” the bartender said. “Claimed he was running for the steamer.”

  “All the more reason.”

  The bartender nodded. “Of course, but the guest in Room Eight arrived at the same time to complain about a leak, and by the time—”

  “Not your fault.” Lee waved a hand. “I’ll be up to take a look in a minute.”

  The bartender nodded and shuffled away.

  As Lee inspected the damage, he realized the minutiae of running the Palm Hotel now bored him. He decided to put the place on the market and accept the first half-decent offer. And the general store, too. He’d been letting things slide there anyway, having only bought the place to spy on Ida’s house during their secret courtship.