Sidney Sheldon - The sands of time

"Graciela, what are you—?"

She took his arm and said gently, "I'm sorry, Ricardo."

"I—I don't understand. Have—have you stopped loving me?"

She shook her head. "I love you more than my life. But my life doesn't belong to me anymore. I gave it to God a long time ago."

"No! I can't let you sacrifice your—"

"Darling Ricardo… It is not a sacrifice. It's a blessing.

In the convent I found the first peace I had ever known.

You're a part of the world I gave up—the best part. But I did give it up. I must return to my world."

The priest was standing there listening, silent.

"Please forgive me for the pain I am causing you, but I can't go back on my vows. I would be betraying everything I believe in. I know that now. I could never make you happy,

because I could never be happy. Please understand."

Ricardo stared at her, shaken, and no words would come. It was as though something in him had died.

Graciela looked at his stricken face, and her heart went out to him. She kissed him on the cheek. "I love you," she said softly. Her eyes filled with tears. "I will pray for you. I will pray for us both."

Late on a Friday afternoon, a military ambulance drove up to the emergency entrance of the hospital at Aranda de Duero.

An ambulance attendant accompanied by two uniformed policemen went through the swinging doors and approached the supervisor behind the desk.

"We have an order here to pick up a Rubio Arzano," one of the policemen said. He handed over the document.

The supervisor looked at it and frowned. "I don't think I have the authority to release him. It should be handled by the administrator."

"Fine. Get him."

The supervisor hesitated. "There's a problem. He's away for the weekend."

"It's not our problem. There's our release order, signed by Colonel Acoña. Do you want to call him and tell him you won't honor it?"

"No," he said hastily. "That won't be necessary. I'll have them get the prisoner ready."

Half a mile away, in front of the city jail, two detectives emerged from a police car and entered the building. They approached the desk sergeant.

One of the men showed his badge. "We're here to pick up

Lucia Carmine."

The sergeant looked at the two detectives in front of him and said, "No one told me anything about this."

One of the detectives sighed. "Goddamned bureaucracy. The left hand never tells the right hand what it's doing."

"Let me see that release order."

The detectives handed it to him.

"Colonel Acoña signed it, huh?"

"That's right."

"Where are you taking her?"

"Madrid. The colonel is going to question her himself."

"Is he? Well, I think I'd better check it out with him."

"There's no need to do that," the detective protested.

"Mister, we've got orders to keep a tight grip on this lady. The Italian government is having an orgasm over getting her back. If Colonel Acoña wants her, he's going to have to tell me himself."

"You're wasting time, and—"

"I have a lot of time, amigo. What I don't have is another ass if I lose mine over this." He picked up the phone and said, "Get me Colonel Acoña in Madrid."

"Jesus Christ!" the detective said. "My wife is going to kill me if I'm late for dinner again. Besides, the colonel's probably not even in, and—"

The phone on the desk rang. The sergeant reached for it.

A voice said, "I have the colonel's office on the line."

The sergeant gave the detectives a triumphant look.

"Hello. This is the desk sergeant at the police station in

Aranda de Duero. It is important that I speak to Colonel

Acoña."

One of the detectives looked at his watch impatiently.

"Mierda! I have better things to do than stand around and—"

"Hello. Colonel Acoña?"

The voice boomed out over the phone. "Yes. What is it?"

"I have two detectives here, Colonel, who want me to release a prisoner into your custody."

"Lucia Carmine?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did they show you an order signed by me?"

"Yes, sir. They—"

"Then what the fuck are you bothering me for? Release her."

"I just thought—"

"Don't think. Follow orders."

The line went dead.

The sergeant swallowed. "He—er—"

"He has a short fuse, hasn't he?" the detective grinned.

The sergeant rose, trying to retain his dignity. "I'll have her brought out."

In the alley in back of the police station, a small boy was watching a man on the telephone pole disconnect a clamp from a wire and climb down.

"What are you doing?" the boy asked.

The man ruffled his hand through the boy's hair. "Helping out a friend, muchacho. Helping out a friend."

Three hours later, at an isolated farmhouse to the north,

Lucia Carmine and Rubio Arzano were reunited.

Acoña was awakened by the telephone at three A.M. The familiar voice said, "The Committee would like to meet with you."

"Yes, sir. When?"

"Now, Colonel. A limousine will pick you up in one hour.

Be ready, please."

"Yes, sir."

He replaced the receiver and sat on the edge of the bed,

then lit a cigarette and let the smoke bite deep into his lungs.

A limousine will pick you up in one hour. Be ready,

please.

He would be ready.

He went into the bathroom and examined his image in the mirror. He was looking into the eyes of a defeated man.

I was so close, he thought bitterly. So close.

Colonel Acoña began to shave, very carefully, and when he was finished, he took a long, hot shower, then selected the clothes he was going to wear.

Exactly one hour later, he walked to the front door and took a last look at the home he knew he would never see again. There would be no meeting, of course. They would have nothing further to discuss with him.

There was a long, black limousine waiting in front of the house. A door opened as he approached the car. There were two men in front and two in back.

"Get in, Colonel."

He took a deep breath and entered the car. A moment later,

it sped away into the black night.

It's like a dream, Lucia thought. I'm looking out the window at the Swiss Alps. I'm actually here.

Jaime Miró had arranged for a guide to see that she reached Zurich safely. She had arrived late at night.

In the morning, I'll go to the Bank Leu.

The thought made her nervous. What if something had gone wrong? What if the money was no longer there? What if… ?

As the first light of dawn inched over the mountains,

Lucia was still awake.

A few minutes before nine, she left the Baur au Lac hotel and stood in front of the bank, waiting for it to open.

A kindly-looking middle-aged man unlocked the door. "Come in, please. I hope you haven't been waiting long?"

Only a few months, Lucia thought. "No. Not at all."

He ushered her inside. "What can we do for you?"

Make me rich. "My father has an account here. He asked me to come in and—and take it over."

"Is it a numbered account?"

"Yes."

"May I have the number, please?"

"B2A149207."

He nodded. "One moment, please."

She watched him disappear toward a vault in back. The bank was beginning to fill with customers. It's got to be there,

Lucia thought. Nothing must go—

The man was approaching her. She could read nothing in his face.

"This account—you say it was in your father's name?"

Her heart sank. "Yes. Angelo Carmine."

He studied her a moment. "The account carries two names."

Did that mean she would not be able to touch it? "What—"

She could scarcely get the words out. "What's the other name?"

"Lucia Carmine."

And in that instant, she owned the world.