Night of the Condor (19 page)

His sideways glance at her was edgy. 'How the hell can I do that?'

'You managed it quite easily last time.' Leigh kept her voice crisp. 'And you have this tent to yourself, so there's no one overlooking your movements.'

He gave a bark of laughter. 'The camp leper, that's me! But don't think for one moment they're not watching me, because they are—every bloody minute. I'd never get away with a mule this time.'

'Then you'll have to go on foot.' She hesitated. 'I'll—I'll get you some food, and a water bottle. But on one condition.'

'Leigh Frazier, sneak-thief?' He gave her a look of exaggerated admiration. 'My God, you have changed. Well, what's the condition?'

'That you give back what you took. It's the only way, and it may make things easier for you—if—if they catch up with you.'

Evan was silent for a moment. Then, 'Done,' he said smilingly.

'Then give it to me now.'

He laughed again. 'Are you crazy? It's not here. I hid it before I came back, and just as well. Do you know those bastards have actually searched me? And they've been through this tent more than once.' He paused. 'No, darling, we'll swap. My illicit hoard for your food, and whatever money you can scrape together. Is it a deal?'

Leigh nodded. 'In two hours, then.' She tried to speak calmly. 'I'll walk up to the house where we talked this morning. If anyone questions me, I'm going to visit the baby. You'll have to sneak away somehow and meet me there.'

His brows lifted. 'You make a very efficient accomplice, darling. You're full of surprises these days, aren't you?' His eyes narrowed as he studied her. 'No, you're not the girl I tried to romance in England. Not any more.' His smile wasn't pleasant. 'So some lucky swine actually found the key to your chastity belt at last!'

She winced away from his crudity. 'I hardly think that's any of your concern,' she said shortly. She paused. 'Where will you go when you leave here?'

'I think that had better stay my little secret. I do have friends—other contacts I can call on a long way from this exclusive little gathering. You don't have to worry about me.'

'I can't help but worry.' Leigh bit her lip. 'Because it's not just the police you're scared of, is it, Evan?'

He was very still for a moment, and something furtive and ugly looked at her from his eyes. Then he shrugged. 'Someone seems to have been gossiping. But it's no problem. I can look after myself. You see, darling Leigh, I've changed too. I'm not the wimp who used to roll over and beg for favours in England. I know how to protect myself.'

'Then I'm surprised you deign to accept my help,' she returned wearily.

'Oh, I figure you owe me something,' he said casually. 'I was quite looking forward to being Mr Leigh Frazier, after all. Now I'll have to make my own way in the world.'

If she had really loved him, she thought, she would have been stricken to the heart at that admission. As it was, her parting smile held contempt as she turned to leave.

'In two hours, then.'

It was not a two hours that Leigh ever wanted to remember.

Evan had called her 'a sneak-thief and she felt she was wearing the title, emblazoned across her forehead. Part of the trouble was everyone was being so kind, and eager to help her. By now, it seemed to be general knowledge that she was leaving, and the warmth and sympathy being directed towards her were almost tangible, she thought remorsefully. They knew that she and Evan had been engaged, of course. Probably they also knew his arrest was imminent, and thought she was struggling to conceal heartbreak.

If only they knew, she thought guiltily, wearily.

She had no trouble in requisitioning a rucksack and water bottle from the stores, although the provisions were far more of a problem. She couldn't just casually go round helping herself to tins of food, coffee and powdered milk, and it took several trips through the kitchen quarters before she had acquired anything like enough food to keep Evan going even for a couple of days.

She hated herself most for this. No one went hungry at the camp, but the food was fairly strictly rationed, and it seemed dreadful to be robbing the hard working members of the team in order to help Evan escape the consequences of his own folly.

She shivered as she packed the rucksack. No matter how lightheartedly he might have begun his treasure hunt, it was obvious he was now in trouble up to his neck. She wondered how he would fare once he got away from Atayahuanco—where in fact he could go, with the police after him, as well as those other criminal scavengers after the same Inca gold as himself.

She wondered too what Rourke would say when he found out what she had done, and she had no doubt that Evan's escape would be traced back to her. He would be angry, she thought miserably, and with every justification. And it was anguish to think his final memory of her would be as a meddler, interfering with the course of justice.

But if she managed to recover the missing treasures, perhaps that would help to redeem her in Rourke's eyes, she tried to tell herself. He was an archaeologist, after all, and this was his father's country. He clearly cared about its history, as well as its future.

She couldn't bear to think of him reverting to his earlier contemptuous opinion of her—hating her even. But she also knew she would never be able to convince him she felt some kind of responsibility towards Evan.

If only I could see him, talk to him, explain, she thought restlessly.

She was returning to her tent with some freshly baked rolls, when she did see him. He was standing outside the long, low shed where Consuelo cleaned the pottery they found, and painstakingly pieced the fragments together again. Consuelo was with him, and even at a distance of yards, it was evident she was crying.

Leigh felt herself shrinking, mentally as well as physically. There, at least, was one person who would be happy to see her go, she thought.

She wondered why the other girl was so upset. Could it be that she had divined what had happened by the bathing-pool by some female, sexual instinct? Leigh was almost thankful that she couldn't hear what they were saying to each other in such low, urgent voices—thankful that she would soon be miles away, and unable to be hurt any more by the sight of them together. Thankful, too, as Rourke's hands descended on the other girl's shoulders, pulling her towards him, that neither of them had seen her, and she was spared that humiliation at least.

She took another, more roundabout route back to the tent, wretchedly conscious of her purloined bread, waiting every moment to hear someone shouting 'Stop, thief!'

But no one did, and she didn't know whether to be glad or sorry.

She had packed the rucksack, and was wrapping it in one of the blankets she had bought from Maria, when June walked in.

'That's pretty,' June said amiably, flinging herself down on her cot with a heartfelt sigh of relief. 'Did you get it locally?'

'At one of the rest places on the way here.' Leigh could feel hateful colour spreading up to her hairline. 'I—I thought I'd give it to the new baby—as a parting present.'

'That would be a nice thought.' June sounded casually approving, and Leigh breathed more easily. 'Did you see Rourke, by the way? Talk to him about your ex-boyfriend, and his pastimes?'

'I—mentioned it.' She hadn't thought it was possible to blush any more, but it seemed it was. 'He— he won't do anything to help him.'

'Well, you can't blame him for that,' said June sharply. 'In my book, people like Evan Gilchrist are the scum of the earth. Jail's too good for him.'

Leigh looked at her in utter astonishment. In the brief time she had known June, she had felt she had got to know her well, and had always found her tolerant in the extreme, prepared to make allowances for anyone. She had never heard her so vitriolic before.

She said, 'He's weak.'

June snorted. 'Not him! He's a born predator, homing in on other people's weaknesses. If you'd been involved as I've been—seen the results of his activities, and those like him, you wouldn't make excuses for him, believe me.'

Leigh stared at her, bewildered. There was more to this, it was obvious, than an honest person's dislike for a common lawbreaker, she realised. And Rourke wouldn't be the only one to condemn her for helping Evan to escape justice, she thought wretchedly. She was going to forfeit every good opinion she had earned while she was at Atayahuanco. She looked down at the blanket-wrapped rucksack, fighting sudden indecision. She wanted to talk to June— question her, but now there simply wasn't time. If she was going to meet Evan, as they had planned, it had to be now.

She said, 'Well, I'll see you later.'

June grimaced slightly. 'Yes, honey. I didn't mean to sound off like that, but the Evan Gilchrists of the world really turn my stomach. And even if he'd stayed on the right side of the law, you'd still be better off without him.'

Leigh had plenty to think about as she toiled up the steep track towards the citadel. Ahead of her the tumbled masonry shimmered in the heat, dominated by the still imposing structure of the temple of the Sun. Its elongated shape was like a great stone finger pointing at the sky, she thought, indicating with majesty the great brazen orb it had been built to honour.

She was thankful this part of the excavation was complete, and the team were working now on the other side of the ridge, uncovering what had once been some nobleman's house, or perhaps even the quarters which had housed the retinue of virgins who served the Sun God. It meant there was less likelihood of bumping into anyone who might ask awkward questions.

She paused to catch her breath, and look down on the encampment below. Both Evan and herself had brought them nothing but harm, she thought with compunction. When the police arrived she would have to make it very clear that helping Evan to escape had been her idea, and hers alone.

When she reached the house, the Quechua woman was sitting cross-legged, a baby clamped peacefully to each breast. She greeted Leigh with composed dignity, and seemed genuinely delighted with the gift of the blanket, her impassive face breaking into a smile. In return, Leigh was offered a wad of coca leaves to chew, but, as always, she declined politely, as June and the others had warned her to do.

She had expected to find Evan waiting for her when she emerged once again into the swirling brightness of the street, but he was nowhere to be seen, and she groaned inwardly. She couldn't just hang around, the rucksack and water bottle were too hideously conspicuous for that, so she continued to walk slowly uphill as if she were just out for a stroll, taking a last look round the old fortress town where the Incas had once held sway.

Perhaps Evan hadn't made it, she told herself, trying not to feel too hopeful. Perhaps he had been spotted trying to get away from the camp, and been detained. Was it really possible that she might be let off the hook?'

And discovered almost as soon as that little piece of wishful thinking had formed in her mind that— no, it was not to be that easy.

'Leigh!' Her name was uttered in a loud, husky whisper. She spun round, but apart from a thin dog sleeping in a patch of shadow, the street seemed deserted.