Iris Johansen - Stalemate

"By all means." She kept her eyes on the path ahead. "I've no desire to do any more talking than I have to do. I don't even want to be here. I just want to have this over and find a way to get Joe out of here."

"I know that. I'm grateful that you-" He broke off as the bushes ahead parted and a dark-haired, thirty-something man appeared. "It seems the show's about to start." He stepped ahead of her. "Manuel, it's been a long time. I wasn't sure you were still alive."

The man he'd called Manuel smiled faintly. "But I knew you were alive and exactly where you were. When my belly was empty, I thought about you sitting all fat and rich behind your high walls."

Montalvo shrugged. "A man has to survive. Armandariz called me a liar and threw me out of the camp."

"You survived very well." Manuel's smile faded. "And he isn't going to change his mind." His gaze went to the box in Eve's hands. "Is that it?"

"That's her," Eve corrected. "And Armandariz will change his mind."

"Eve Duncan, this is Manuel Estevez. We knew each other for a long time before I became a pariah." Montalvo nudged her forward. "And I assume you're going to take us to Armandariz?"

"Yes." Manuel turned on his heel. "I have to warn you that he's ready to laugh in your face. It's not going to do any good."

"Encouraging," Eve murmured as she followed Manuel. Well, she hadn't expected this to be easy. She wasn't even sure that it would be successful. Montalvo hadn't given her any false hopes.

They abruptly emerged from the forest into a large glade dotted with a score of tents. The large tent to which Manuel led them was on the outskirts of the camp and he lifted the flap and gestured them inside. "Good luck," he said to Montalvo. "If you deserve it."

"I deserve it," Montalvo said. "Are you coming?"

Manuel hesitated and then shrugged. "I'm a little curious. Why not?" He followed them into the tent. He nodded at an older man sitting in a camp chair at a table. "May I stay, Antonio?"

"I've no objection." Antonio Armandariz was a thin, handsome man somewhere in his sixties with a mane of gray-white hair and magnificent dark eyes. "You were always too fond of Montalvo. You need to see him as the fool he is."

"Nalia loved him," Manuel said. "She usually didn't make mistakes about people."

Armandariz's eyes glittered with anger. "Don't defend her. She made the biggest mistake anyone could make. Why won't you understand that?"

"I try," Manuel said. "Because you're an honorable man and you believe it." He sat down in a chair in the corner. "Maybe Montalvo will convince me how wrong I've been to doubt you, Antonio." He gestured to Montalvo. "Entertain us, my friend. Let's see what you have to say."

"He has no friends here," Armandariz said. "He almost destroyed us with his wild actions against Diaz." He stared coldly at Montalvo. "Talk and then get the hell out of my camp."

"That's my intention." He nodded at Eve. "This is Eve Duncan. You read the dossier on her I sent you?"

Armandariz barely glanced at her. "I read it. Probably lies."

"You know better than that," Montalvo said. "And you've done a check on her yourself. I know you. You wouldn't be able to help yourself. I'm sure that you only wanted to prove to yourself that I was lying and she was a complete charlatan, but it didn't turn out that way, did it?"

Armandariz didn't answer.

"You didn't like the fact that she was reputable and totally honest and had no axe to grind. It must have been difficult for you."

"Not difficult at all." His gaze shifted to Eve. "She can be corrupted like everyone else. Nalia was honest and she betrayed us."

"May I talk now?" Eve asked. "This is bullshit, Montalvo."

"In a minute." Montalvo reached into his jacket pocket and drew out an envelope. "Nalia died trying to prove that Diaz was playing games with the militia and betraying you. She didn't find that proof before she was caught and killed. Diaz buried it and it took me years to unearth it." He tossed the envelope on the desk in front of Armandariz. "Along with a few more-recent documents that prove that Diaz is still double-dealing whenever it suits him. He's being very careful but when the prize is worth it, he's selling you out."

"Proof?" Armandariz's face was white with rage. "You come and bring me these forgeries. Diaz is a friend to us. We would have had to disband if it hadn't been for his help."

"No forgeries." He glanced at Manuel. "Don't let him destroy them before he checks. It took me a hell of a long time and a small fortune to find that evidence."

"I'll do what I please." Armandariz's voice was shaking. "Lies. You tell me lies."

Montalvo stepped back. "Eve?"

That's right, infuriate the man and then leave it up to me to convince him, she thought in frustration. "I don't know anything about those papers. Montalvo didn't think it best to share them with me. I wouldn't have wanted to be involved anyway." She put the leather box on the table. "This is the only part of the business I wanted anything to do with." She unfastened the box and lifted the lid. "I wanted to bring your daughter home."

"My daughter is in Australia."

"Your daughter was murdered and thrown into a swamp," she said bluntly. "By the time Montalvo was able to find her body, there was no body. Only a skeleton. He was lucky to find those bones intact, considering the passage of time and the water and wildlife in that kind of habitat."

"She's in Australia."

"Your daughter's skull is in this box."

He looked away from the box. "No."

"I don't have the slightest doubt about it." She carefully lifted the reconstruction from the box and set it on the table. "Now, dammit, look at her. You gave life to Nalia. Don't you dare reject her."

"My daughter is not dead."

"Look at her."

He slowly turned his head. She could see him flinch as his gaze focused on the skull. "A pretty statue. You could have carved it from a likeness in a photo."

"But I didn't. I measured the depth points and then I built up the face around them. Only after I finished did I ask for a photo. I took three-dimensional shots of the reconstruction and then superimposed them on the photo." She pulled out a disc and crossed to the computer in front of Armandariz and popped in the disc. "Every feature aligned perfectly. Watch it happen."

"I've no wish to-"

"Watch it. I didn't bring her home to have you turn your back on her. Watch the image as it covers the reconstruction."

"I don't want to-"

Manuel stepped closer. "Don't be a coward, Antonio. Watch it happen."

"Shut up," he said harshly. "This is my concern."

"It's all our concern if it means we've been betrayed. I'm willing to fight and die, but I won't go blindly. I've been at your side for twenty years. But you shouldn't expect that of me."

Armandariz hesitated and then swung his gaze to the computer screen. "Show me."

"I don't have to do anything. The program does it all." She watched the slow superimposition. Even after all these years it always amazed her. It was rather like a ghostly hand blending the two images together. "The similarity ratio is ninety-six percent. That's exceptional."

Armandariz didn't take his gaze from the screen. "Not if you were looking at the photo as you did the reconstruction."

"But I wasn't looking at it." She paused. "I told Montalvo you'd believe what you want to believe. I can't make you see anything you don't want to see." She pointed at the superimposition on the screen. "That woman is Nalia. She died trying to help all of you. It's not right for you to throw everything she did away. Her life should mean something. Her death should mean something."

"She's not dead." His gaze never left the screen. "She's not dead."

"It's Nalia, Antonio," Manuel said gently. "I know that face. Her cheekbones are just like yours. The eyes are deep-set like yours. I've watched the two of you together since she was a child." His eyes glittered with moisture. "For God's sake, I grew up with her. It's Nalia."