"The Ambassador took him and his papers to see Lavandero. He's giving a deposition and an interview to the press."
"I ought to take in the interview."
"No. Stay away. Segador thinks it will be wiser if you stay away. But that isn't all. Do you remember the picture of Ansaldo that started you off on your wild-goose chase?"
"Vaguely. What about it?"
"There is a doctor in the Institute of Tropical Medicine in Puerto Rico. He is the head of the pro-Loyalist Spanish society on the island ..."
"Ramon Toro?"
"Toro. You know him? Well, he must be a man worth knowing. He has a collection of Avance—that was the Falange organ in San Juan, starting with issue number one. When he sees the picture of Gamburdo embracing Ansaldo—it was on the front page of El Mundo in San Juan—a bell rings in his head. He starts going through his Avances, and what do you think? He finds the picture you were looking for in an August issue. So he rips open his suitcase, pastes the whole issue of Avance between the linings, and arrives at the San Hermano airport last night. He doesn't stop. He takes his bag straight to the editor of La Democracia, empties it of his clothes, and pulls out the ..."
"Christ! Toro had it all the time!"
"It's on the front page of La Democracia this morning. I was in such a rush to get here that I left it in my office. I tell you, all roads lead to San Hermano. Every time I hear a plane overhead, I think, aha! more anonymous Republicans and underground agents and Cuban generals are coming in with more documents. It's fantastic!"
"Did anyone else turn up?" Hall was feeling better than he had in years. He was one of many now, he knew, one of an army who marched in uniform, out of uniform, but an army which knew the enemy and knew how to fight him. Mogrado, Fielding, Duarte, Segador, Rafael, Pepe, Vicente, Iglesias, even poor Rivas for all his cringing and breast-beating—the army was strong, and it was growing stronger with the taste of victory. That was all that mattered, now.