Pete moved down the beach a short distance, past some fishermen. Then he sat on the sand and looked out across the water towards the Maria III. Ernie was aboard the boat again. He was polishing the brass fittings.
The morning passed pleasantly enough. A group of children came to play in the sand near the pier. Pete found out they lived nearby and started questioning them. They told Pete that Ernie lived in the little house just up the highway, and that he had two friends who lived with him. They were men who spoke to each other in a foreign language. Pete was pleased with the information. He thought that Jupe couldn’t have done any better.
Pete lunched on a sandwich which he bought in a small market down the highway from Denicola’s. Then he returned to the beach and watched Ernie through the afternoon. Shortly after five, Ernie left the pier and started up the highway, walking on the shoulder of the road. Pete followed at a distance.
Ernie made straight for a dilapidated little house that stood with its face to the highway and its back extending out over the sand, supported by pilings. When he disappeared into the seedy, sagging cottage, Pete stood and wondered what to do next. How could he find out more about this man who might know the beggar?
A shabby old truck came rumbling up the highway. It pulled to the side of the road across from Ernie’s cottage, and a young man got out of the cab. He waved and called out thanks to the driver, then crossed the road and went into the house. The truck went on its way.
A few minutes later a third young man appeared on the scene. This one was driving an ancient Buick. He parked it in a weed-choked patch of level ground next to the house, then went into the house and slammed the door.
There were few fishermen left on the beach now. The sun was dipping towards the west. Pete decided that he would watch for ten more minutes, and then he would get his bike and go home.
No sooner had he made the decision than the door of Ernie’s cottage opened. Ernie and the other two men came out and headed down the highway. Pete trailed after them. The men passed Denicola’s, then crossed the road and began trudging up a winding driveway. It led to a building that stood atop the cliffs and overlooked the sea. A sign on the hillside announced that this was the Oceanview Motel.
Ernie had his friends had reached the top of the hill when a car turned into the motel driveway and climbed the grade. A second car arrived and followed the first one up the hill, and a third car stopped beside the road. A man and a woman got out of that car and started up the drive on foot, just as two young men on motorcycles roared up the incline.
Pete watched and wondered. When a van loaded with young people pulled to the side of the road, he decided to act. He crossed the highway as a small sedan parked. A middle-aged couple got out, accompanied by a pair of teenage boys. The man and woman started up the driveway and the boys trailed after them. Pete fell into step a few yards behind the boys.
He followed the family to the top of the hill and around behind the motel to the parking lot and pool area. The doors of the motel rooms all opened on to the back. Above them, lights already beamed out from under the eaves. Rows of folding chairs had been set out on the decking around the pool and in part of the black-topped parking area. Beyond the pool was a clear area where Ernie and his two friends were putting up huge easels and mounting great photographic blow-ups on them. One black and white portrait photograph showed a white-haired man who wore an elaborate uniform which was heavy with braid. A colour picture showed a city that was golden with sunlight. The third picture made Pete gasp. It was a photograph of a man who had shaggy grey hair, a scar that ran from his cheekbone to his chin, and eyes covered by dark glasses. He looked just like the blind beggar Bob had described.
Pete began to feel nervous. He had no right to be here. He felt a strong urge to flee, but he knew Jupe would never forgive him. Some kind of meeting was going to take place, and it might tell him who the scar-faced man was. The meeting seemed to be free; no one was taking tickets. And no one was paying any attention to Pete. He guessed that he could safely stay if he kept quiet and pretended to belong.
He sat down on one of the folding chairs, and managed a friendly smile when a stout man, who was breathing heavily after the climb up the hill, sat down next to him.
More and more people came. When the chairs were filled, people sat on the steps outside the motel office and on the wall at one side of the swimming-pool area. No lights showed inside the motel, and Pete wondered if the place was open only in the summertime.
It was nearly dark when Ernie stood up at a small lectern which had been placed in front of the row of photographs. One of Ernie’s friends came marching from behind the motel office with a flag made of blue satin edged with gold. There was a cluster of golden oak leaves in the centre of the banner.
A woman in the audience began to sing. Another woman joined her, then a man. Soon everyone was standing and singing. The music swelled and grew majestic. Pete stood up and pretended to sing. He’d never heard the tune before, but it sounded like a battle hymn or an anthem. When the music ended, the singers sat down with much coughing and scraping of chairs, and Ernie stepped back away from the lectern.
An older man came to the lectern and began to speak in Spanish. Pete groaned silently. He didn’t understand Spanish! If only Jupe were here!
At first the speaker’s voice was subdued. Soon it became stronger. The man waved a raised fist as if he were angry with the crowd, or with someone who was just beyond the circle of light there at the top of the hill.
There were cheers when the man finished speaking and stepped back from the lectern. Then a young woman with long, straight blonde hair came out of the audience. She stood before the crowd and shouted something that sounded like a slogan. People clapped and whistled, and some stamped their feet.
The woman held up her hands and the audience grew quiet. She began to speak. She was fiery, almost dancing in the glare of the floodlights, gesturing to the photographs behind her. Every time she pointed to the picture of the man with the scar, there was a new roar from the crowd.
There were more cheers and whistles when she finished. Ernie came back to the lectern, and gradually the crowd became quiet. Then, to Pete’s horror, Ernie began to single out people in the audience, pointing, urging them to get up and speak. One by one they did, always speaking in Spanish. First there was a man in the first row, then a woman halfway back in the crowd, then a boy who sat on the motel steps. As each one got up, Ernie shouted encouragement, applauding and laughing.
Then Ernie was pointing to Pete, and the men and women around Pete were looking at him.
Pete shook his head, but the man who sat on his right tugged at Pete’s elbow and gestured to him to stand.
Slowly, as if he were caught in a nightmare, Pete got to his feet. He knew he had to think fast, but his brain was frozen.
Ernie said something, and there was laughter in the crowd. Then there was silence. Pete saw faces, all of them turned towards him, waiting.
Pete wanted to run. He wanted to get away, out of the crowd and down the drive, before these people found out that he was a spy.
The man next to Pete said something softly. Was it just a question? Or was it a threat?
Suddenly Pete put his hand to his throat. He opened his mouth and pointed and made a sound that was half-gasp and half-gurgle. Then he shook his head.
“Aha!” said the man next to him. “Laryngitis!”
Pete nodded, forcing a smile. There was laughter and Pete sat, weak with relief. His neighbour patted him sympathetically. The crowd turned away. Ernie made some remark and pointed to another person in the audience, and that person stood and spoke. At last Ernie and one of his friends began to pass a basket down the rows of chairs. The young woman with the blonde hair spoke again, evidently urging the audience to be generous.