Megan had an appointment with Prime Minister Leopoldo Martinez twenty-four hours after she arrived in Madrid. He invited her to Moncloa Palace for lunch.
“Thank you for seeing me so promptly,” Megan said. “I know what a busy man you are.”
He raised a hand in deprecation. “My dear Miss Scott, when the head of an organization as important as Scott Industries flies to my country to see me, I can only be honored. Please tell me how I can assist you.”
“I really came here to assist you,” Megan said. “It occurred to me that while we have a few factories in Spain, we’re not using nearly enough of the potential that your country has to offer.”
He was listening closely now, his eyes shining. “Yes?”
“Scott Industries is thinking about opening a huge electronics plant. It should employ somewhere between a thousand and fifteen hundred people. If it is as successful as we think it will be, we’ll open satellite factories.”
“And you have not decided in which country you wish to open this plant?”
“That’s right. I’m personally in favor of Spain, but quite frankly, Your Excellency, some of my executives are not too happy with your civil rights record.”
“Really?”
“Yes. They feel that those who object to some of the policies of the state are treated too harshly.”
“Do you have anyone in particular in mind?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. Jaime Miró.”
He sat there staring at her. “I see. And if we were to be lenient with Jaime Miró, we would get the electronics factory and—”
“And a lot more,” Megan assured him. “Our factories will raise the standard of living in every community they’re in.”
The prime minister frowned. “I’m afraid there is one small problem.”
“What? We can negotiate further.”
“This is something that cannot be negotiated, Miss Scott. Spain’s honor is not for sale. You cannot bribe us or buy us or threaten us.”
“Believe me, I’m not—”
“You come here with your handouts and expect us to run our courts to please you? Think again, Miss Scott. We don’t need your factories.”
I’ve made it worse, Megan thought, despairingly.
The trial lasted six weeks in a heavily guarded courtroom that was closed to the public.
Megan remained in Madrid, following the news reports of the trial each day. From time to time, Mike Rosen telephoned her.
“I know what you’re going through, friend. I think you should come home.”
“I can’t, Mike.”
She tried to see Jaime.
“Absolutely no visitors.”
The last day of the trial, Megan stood outside the courtroom, lost in a crowd of people. Reporters came streaming out of the building, and Megan stopped one of them.
“What happened?”
“They found him guilty on all counts. He’s going to get the garrote.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
At five A.M. on the morning scheduled for the execution of Jaime Miró, crowds began to gather outside the central prison in Madrid. Barricades set up by the Guardia Civil kept the swelling mob of onlookers across the wide street, away from the front entrance to the prison. Armed troops and tanks blocked the iron prison gates.
Inside the prison, in the office of Warden Gomez de la Fuente, an extraordinary meeting was taking place. In the room were Prime Minister Leopoldo Martinez, Alonzo Sebastian, the new head of the GOE, and the warden’s executive deputies, Juanito Molinas and Pedros Arrango.
Warden de la Fuente was a heavyset, grim-faced middle-aged man who had passionately devoted his life to disciplining the miscreants that the government had placed in his charge. Molinas and Arrango, his hard-bitten assistants, had served with de la Fuente for the past twenty years.
Prime Minister Martinez was speaking. “I would like to know what arrangemnts you have made to ensure that there will be no trouble in carrying out Miró’s execution.”
Warden de la Fuente replied, “We have prepared for every possible contingency, Your Excellency. As Your Excellency observed when you arrived, a full company of armed soldiers is stationed around the prison. It would take an army to break in.”
“And inside the prison itself?”
“The precautions are even more stringent. Jaime Miró is locked in a double security cell on the second floor. The other prisoners on that floor have been temporarily transferred. Two guards are stationed in front of Miró’s cell and two guards are at each end of the cell block. I have ordered a general lock-down, so that all prisoners will remain in their cells until after the execution.”