Absolution

Chapter ten

“Is it not good, Senorita, that I’m able to arrange this deal so that farmers have an outlet in which to sell their crops?”

Rhiannon shook her head.

“You talk of cocaine as if it is wheat or barley. It is a blood crop. The people you sell it to will have their lives destroyed; they may even die.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t force them to take the stuff. If they didn’t get it from me they’d get it someplace else,” Kendal said.

“You make me sick. Do you know what the cost of this shipment you are talking about is?”

“Yes, thirty million US dollars.”

“No, it cost the life of a young priest and a little boy. Tell me, Mr Kendal, have you ever held a child who’s been shot in your arms, seen the light slowly fade from their eyes as their life drains away. That’s the cost of your dirty, little trade.”

“No, Senorita, those deaths wouldn’t have happened if your government kept its nose out of Colombia and if the aid workers stayed out of the villages,” Cortez said.

“There would still be death and killings. Anybody who gets in your way is eliminated.”

“That is how you get loyalty, Senorita.” Cortez’ voice was hard and hollow; devoid of any emotion – utterly evil.

 A gong sounded in the distance.

“Ah, dinner is served. Perhaps, Senor Kendal, you would care to escort Senorita Philips into dinner.”

“It would be a pleasure.”

His voice was deep and seductive and sent a shiver down Rhiannon’s spine. God, it made her feel sick. On the surface he was an educated, sophisticated man but underneath he was as disgusting as Cortez.

“Come on, Rhiannon, love. You don’t want to upset Senor Cortez.” He held out his hand.

It was ridiculous, the things she was noticing - first the beauty of the cut glass goblet and now his hand. It was a beautiful shape, square palmed and long fingered – an elegant hand. Realising she was staring, she lifted her head intending to tell him to go to hell but she was shocked into silence by his eyes – she recognised them. In truth they’d be hard to forget; the irises were a clear bright blue, edged by a dark circle, as if somebody had taken a kohl pencil and drawn a perfect circle around them. A classic almond shape, fringed by long sooty lashes, they were simply stunning and she’d seen them before – but where? She was certain they’d never met and nothing else about him was remotely familiar.

Knowing she was drawing attention to herself she reluctantly took the hand he offered and stood up.

“Sensible girl. You can take the bravery thing too far.”

*******

The food was delicious but Rhiannon did little more than push it from one part of the plate to the other. The few mouthfuls she tried to eat seemed to get stuck in her throat. The conversation had followed the same course as it had at the pre-dinner drinks. The arrival of the coffee had been a relief - at least the evening must almost be at an end and she would soon be able to escape the odious company of the three men she was dining with, especially James Kendal, who had been idly tracing a pattern on her hand for the past ten minutes. When he had first touched her she had snatched it away, placing it beneath the table but, he captured it there and had been tracing a pattern on her palm ever since. Not a teasing, random pattern she realised. It was the same every time.

Porter knew the moment she realised that he was tracing a specific pattern on her hand. She tensed slightly as she tried to work out if it meant anything. He repeat it slowly - S A S. He felt her breath catch and he repeated it again before he squeezed her hand softly, aiming to reassure.