Fiction

Chapter 8

I need to stay calm and think.

Damn! It probably doesn't even record! That way he avoids me using the pictures myself and simultaneously removes the risk of the card falling into other hands should I lose it somehow. All he needs is a second hidden camera that I know nothing about. So there must be another video camera in this room. And I’m truly stuffed. 

A cold realisation sweeps over me. It's me he's going to kill! I know too much. That’s why his alibi has to be strong. It's to avoid suspicion in a later Police murder investigation. I'm the only other person who knows the real identity of Diego, his wife's mystery lover and future blackmailer. Ghostly Diego won't start blackmailing Diana with those scandalous and, for a political candidate, very compromising images, until I'm dead.

He can't leave me around to be found by an investigator and wreck his plans.  And if the blackmail starts before the investigation of my death, it gives him a motive. That's why he made absolutely sure that there was nothing to connect me with him. Should they look for some reason, investigators will confirm that he left before Diana met me and returned, after I flew out.  

He obviously arranged all this to coincide with him judging the tango talent show on TV in BA and is very likely taking dance partners to nightclubs tonight, and somewhere tomorrow to be seen in public. His bed partners will further secure his alibi. 

There's no evidence he's seen me for nearly twenty years. He's gone to a great deal of trouble to demonstrate that he could not have known, or even care, about his wife's one night stand with some unknown gigoló. He's eliminated any obvious connection or any motive for killing me, forestalling any suspicion falling on him, when I'm found dead.

What can I do? I need to get away. But if I run now, Diana will immediately call Security. That's assuming I can get away from her. And I'll have to run, literally. This hotel is in the back-of-beyond and I don't have my rental car here, it's back at the falls.

***

Geraldo's plan is crystal clear to me now and I try to tell Diana.

"Can't you see it's not me who's the future blackmailer, it's Geraldo. I wouldn't have said anything if it was my plan."

Diana seems uncertain.

"You're a self-confessed liar. Why should I believe you any more than I trust Geraldo?"

Good! There's slight note of doubt in her voice. She's starting to think Geraldo might be behind this. She's examining the clock like an expert. She's the most competent and alluring woman I've ever known.

"Sit on that couch!” she orders. “I'm going to take the memory out of this clock and see what’s been recorded. Then I’ll decide what to do with you."

She’s got a card reader in her luggage! She immediately understood the fake clock. She must be quite tech-savvy. She’s hooking the reader up to the USB port on the TV... 

This could be my way out. Geraldo must've considered the risk that I would keep the recording for my own purposes, to sell to the highest bidder. In that case the memory card is bound to be blank or unusable. It's the Achilles heel in his plan. If there's no evidence that it actually recorded anything, it might persuade Diana that I'm right about Geraldo and she might just let me walk away.

On the other hand, that will confirm that there is another, better, camera in this room. In that case Geraldo will expect to have some quality blackmail evidence involving me. So, when I get to the locker there'll be no money. He'll attempt lure me to somewhere, with a promise of my second payment, then kill me.  So that's what the second payment is for. It's the bait in his trap. He couldn't care less about the memory card.

Geraldo's been much cleverer than I thought him capable of. I always thought he was a 'pretty boy' but dumb as a post. Yet he's ensured that I'm totally incognito here as his 'secret agent' and, as instructed, I've been careful to cover my tracks. No one knows where I am; or will miss me for weeks. If Diana goes to the police, when the blackmail starts, and shows them enough video for them to recognise me, I will already be dead, miles away, in back-alley, like that tramp. Even if my corpse is recognised and some smart detective links me to the blackmail, Geraldo would still in the clear.

He carried a stiletto in the Barrio.  He was the knife man. I was the brains.  So, I can expect his stiletto in my guts very soon! Madre de dios! I can imagine walking in a dark, deserted place. An arm is suddenly around my neck from behind. And his stiletto is driving upwards, through my guts into my heart.

Except I've now told Diana. Fingers crossed, that might be enough to stop him if she confronts him. I just need her to have insufficient evidence of blackmail for her to call the police. She might then decide not to initiate unwanted interest in her private affairs.