Chapter 77 Chapter Twenty Seven

April 10, 1958, midnight Dear Kittredge: It's been a few weeks since I last wrote to you, but I don't think I should rush to apologize to you for not telling me about "Dracula's Lair".However, I do have something to say to you.do you know?I met Miss Libertard, the legendary Libertard! Let me tell you the whole story.I went to visit Javert Fortes last Thursday night, it was a stormy night a week ago and I felt so lonely thinking about you, I swear I could even smell the mule that was in your apartment a hundred years ago , Georgetown is so far away!At the bottom of the world in Uruguay, I had at least one thing to be happy about, and that was that Javert Fortes had the guts to call my hotel.Of course, he put his handkerchief on the microphone, and I admit I didn't recognize his voice.He's just a naughty guy!He lisps that we plan to have a same-sex game. (Bah! So what if the KGB tapped the phone! To think of these dying agents, who will be at my disposal in the next few months. Hubbard, gem of the Andes.)

Well, this is a joke.Javert Fortes just wanted to drive to his safe house on Pocitos Beach, the bus would take too long.Do you really want me to stay with him for one night?Kitteridge, if I had ever trained a CIA officer, the first thing I would have taught them was how to lure a fish -- that's when you're most relaxed.Now is the time.I picked him up at the bar and drove to the safe house. This is just a regular meeting.Recently, if you can recall, he begrudgingly put us in MRO, but he just complained that he was being treated as an eyeliner.He mentioned the names of the MRO leaders (there were four in total), all four of whom were hospitalized. "How stupid I am!" Javert Fortes told me. "Peones and his lackeys don't take orders from you."

I said, "Peones has his own sources of information." Javert Fortes laughed. "I can tell you about Peones," he said, "I know him well, we grew up together." "yes?" "In Montevideo everyone grew up together. Peones was a bully and a dangerous man." "Really?" "But at the end of the day, he's a fool." "Why did you say that?" "I'm telling you because I want to. If I don't want to tell you, I won't reveal what I know, even if I'm tortured." "I agree with your opinion."

"By chance!" He was glad I took him seriously.He continued: "Peones is madly in love with a whore, who is a friend of mine. He loves this whore so much that he would betray everyone for her." "Does anyone else know about this?" "Who knows! On the surface, it's impossible. That woman, Miss Libertard, is a capitalist through and through, and the accumulation of capital is everything to her. Why would she want Peones to betray any of you What about people?" "It happens all the time among businessmen." "Interesting." "Is this interesting?"

"Well," said Javert, "she'll call him your betrayer if it's worth it. For example, if the Russians offer a high enough price, she might induce Peones to cooperate with them." "She must be very attractive." "Exactly. Once you meet her, you'll know what I mean. Her charm is unique." "Yes, but when can we see her?" "Tonight, at her house," he said, sitting next to the phone, "Peones always visits her on Thursday nights. He goes to work in the morning and stays with his family in the late afternoon. , can't wait to be with her at night. She sees him at home and now he's gone. She's waiting for my call, can I use this number?"

"Do we need to do this?" "Of course. She's waiting for me." "Then how do you introduce me?" "An American friend who works in the State Department." "You want to tell her that you, a member of the Communist Party, are dealing with people from the US State Department?" "She's not interested in politics." "Javert, I must not go." He started laughing: "I didn't tell her anything, I just said that you are a rich American who may run out of money soon." "And what if I want to pay for her services?"

"That's not service, it's offering." "You love her?" "yes." "But you don't mind if I buy her services?" "She's a courtesan. It's a fact, and I accept it." "Well, if she's a courtesan, I'm afraid I can't afford it." "I do not think so." Kitteridge, that's how we talk, we're not supposed to be so friendly as a rule, but we just don't see each other.In fact, he and I both know that despite my occasional visit to a brothel (don't laugh at the simple physical need), I would never dare make a monetary transaction with this type of woman, despite the fact that they seduce me all the time, or I would most likely do Make a lot of compromises.We have her profile, she has the courtesy of the Western Hemisphere Division, and in Havana she has connections with both Batista and Castro.On this basis, I decided to accompany my agent to visit her.Hunter was aggressive, and he wanted to be in promising action, too.I have been reporting to Hunter the results of my inspection of her. If she has a tendency to sympathize with the left, and if this sympathy is still strong, then we have to continue to follow up the investigation.Whether she is as influential as she is rumored to be, consider her influence on Peones.

So we went to see her.The house she lived in was also tall, taller than Boris and Xenia's apartment.I am very puzzled, so many people could have bought better houses or villas, but they have the urge to live in high-rise apartments.But don't refute the impulse brought by tall buildings, at least ten floors high!And Libertard's room was on the sixteenth floor, the penthouse. On the way, Javert was in a very abnormal mood. He suddenly became impulsive and let out annoying sighs.For example, he insisted that I cross the Rambla instead of squeezing the freeway, which is busy during the day with traffic but at night when the real danger arises.But after this self-demanding adventure, my friend was still in the mood to yell at a driver "are you going to drive (the driver was driving too close to us)?" and point the middle finger to the sky.As brutal as he is, he still feels like he's doing the right thing, and I suspect that his cursing and giving people the middle finger doesn't help at all.Then, he insisted that we take off our shoes and socks, and we played along the beach with our cuffs rolled up high, and we all walked on the moonlit road with our shoes on, sometimes with foamy ripples from the waves.I wondered why he took the detour, when it turned out he was going to tell me about the sexual relationship between Libertard and Peones.When he talked about their relationship, he was very calm.

"She said she did it once," Javert told me, "'No woman knows a man better than I do. I approached a visitor who was as mysterious as a maze. Every man has a lock, and I alone have the key Open it.'" "Javert," I protested, "Libertard couldn't have said that." "Well, actually, she did say that. That's because I taught her a lot, and I recommended Borges to her. Have you read him?" "No." "You haven't read his work. It's only five pages, and every page he summarizes how meaningless your life is for the next ten years, especially your life."

Horrified by what he said, I replied, "Enjoy the absurdity of your life. I'll manage my own too." He laughed wildly and twisted his short hair. Well, I still don't believe Libertard told the story of the lock and the labyrinth. "Neither Borges nor anyone else could sum up other people's lives like that," I told him. "That's all she can do," Javert said. "How did she make love to you?" "That's holy." "Then you are not going to say it?" "I'll tell you how she made love to Peones." "Okay. How?"

He roared again.He kicked the wet clay with his bare feet before going on to detail. Kitteridge, this is a shocking thing.I'd rather not tell you with his words, which really tested my knowledge, not only in the language of a lot of Montevideo's slums, but also in the idiomatic expressions of Harlem.Believe it or not, he used some slang words that we didn't use, and I had a hard time understanding what those slang words meant.Javert’s giggles as he described the passage shattered my sense of his self-esteem.He's happy, but also a little guilty, with all the contempt that all Latins have.My goodness, are all Uruguayans so carnal?Of course, all flesh leads to flesh, buttocks.I now know where a Latin thinks evil resides in his body. Apparently, Peones was lying on Libertard's bed, his face exposed.Libertard, dressed in what Javert called "elegant leather," patted him lightly.Peones was of a large size, like a walrus, lying in bed with a belly so loose that it would have taken up two thick pillows, making his back look—as Javert described it—like " Two giant melons".She patted him lightly, and when a pained expression appeared at the corner of his mouth, she stopped.Then she began to bite him, nibbling at his exposed skin with her straight teeth, and Peones began to make noises, whimpers, pain, guilt, joy.She too began to moan: "O Peones, my partridge, my pomegranate, my nipple, my smooth back, my peach, my stalker, my petal, torture, liar..." Her moans echoed in his ears, alliteratively.She nibbled his cheek with her teeth and patted him lightly, she bent over and grunted, and they kissed for a long time.Yes, Kitteridge, Peones cursed loudly, wet the pillow, and finally climaxed. These descriptions were so erotic that when Javert finished, I couldn't believe it was true.Yes, he told me, those were Libertard's brief words to Peones, her words to the man she had sworn to, her lover and a traitor to the Secret Service. She couldn't stop her from saying things like that.He then added: "That's a true description of the guy, he's a thug, and that's what he thinks he's happy with. It's the softest part of our sadistic mind." "Are you going to continue to love Libertard after hearing things like this?" "She told me what she did, it was her way of showing her love publicly. Of course, you can't understand it. In your country, your religious devotion, there is a lack of candor between people." You know, sometimes I think it's precisely because Javert has become an American agent that he seizes the opportunity to belittle American virtues, customs, and morals in such a way. Well, I move on to my meeting with Libertard.We got on the elevator, got to her door, rang the bell, and she was indeed home.All I know is that there is a stunner in front of me, she is very special, the light of the candle in the room is dim white, and she is whiter than the color of the candle flame.I could see a white halo on her dimpled face, and her eyes were big and blue with dark eyeshadow, looking at me.Her deep red lips are thick and sexy, I seem to be staring at an angel, and my heart is as sweet as a honeycomb filled with honey.This was my first impression of her, as if Jean Harlow was standing in front of me.My second impression of her was the way she walked, unlike any woman I had ever seen before. "Hello," she said in English, in a low, husky voice, "come in," she said, leading us through the living room to the open-air courtyard.There she stood by the railing, and soon her face was looking out to the sea sixteen floors down, as if she didn't want me to stare at her in the light.Maybe she was older than I thought, maybe she was ten years older than Marilyn Monroe and at least 20 years younger than Mae West, but the way she walked was so graceful!People have to give priority to her.Her calves are very thin, and her thighs have no fat at all.We all held our breath as she walked around with her head down.I talked about Harlow, Monroe, and West, and she was one of them, the same kind of sexy, essentially like cash is green.Javert said: "I am money, I was, I am, and I will always be. I am more material than everyone who stares at me." Therefore, Libertad is the embodiment of sexiness. I seem to be in front of a goddess. It's almost like this when I meet a movie star for the first time. Besides, I must tell you the fact that she is fatally attractive, but I am not happy at all.Because the first time Kip saw you, I was completely lost. To emphasize, she said "Come in" to me in a polite way.On the balcony, she pulls out a silver purse that matches the color of the gown she's wearing (it can't be the same gown she was wearing when she was holding the whip, no, she must have changed it before meeting us clothes).She was about to get a cigarette from her purse, but couldn't get it out, so Javert took out a lighter and lit a cigarette for her, and she smoked.I suddenly thought of Chaplin the Anglican, he used to make a cross shape and concentrate on praying to God (at least Chaplin did) and you can feel the same pain when he stretches his arms to draw horizontal lines .I was deeply moved by the solemn scene when lighting a cigarette.I've never been in the company of such a feminine woman, I seem to see the ancient priestess, then Javert was attracted by her making love to Peones, I was attracted by this interesting hint of violence.I feel like I'm going to betray myself, no matter what.I then began to observe the direction in which her steps were moving.All the temperament of all the fine women she had ever met seemed to be expressed in her alone.She must be an omega, where have all the imprints of her daily life gone?I didn't move away from her breasts, which seemed bigger and better shaped when the light hit the courtyard.Her cleavage is also looming, as is the depth of her voice. Soon, I realized that she knew my profession, and apparently she had asked Javert to take me there. "Do you enjoy your job?" she asked me.She spoke in a soft, southern accent, "You speak good English," I replied. "I learned it from an American," she said. "A rich Texan," Javert added, "he was her guardian in Havana." "My Guardian," she repeated, as if the man had been with her forever. "A friend of the American ambassador to Cuba," Javert said. "One of your friends," Libertard told me. "I don't believe my countrymen are going to be your guardians," I said, but her reply gave me such a headache that I doubt she could use more than thirty-eight common words. "One of your friends," she repeated. "Perhaps she meant that she wanted to see another American friend," Javert added. "Mr. Howard Hunter," she said. "Oh," I said with certainty, "he's married." There was, I confess, a strange sudden delight in giving myself such an introduction. She shrugged and made a downward gesture of her lips, as if to say "what does it matter?"How extraordinary it was that she returned to the drawing-room!She had portraits of Princess Diana, Louis XIV, Duncan Wyfe, and Spanish colonists that hung in the drawing room, added a gold leaf to all the wooden moldings, and satin courtesan cushions were everywhere, We stand on an expensive rug, and the quality can be judged by the color.My goodness, how vulgar this is!Her living room is like a love nest in a furniture store window, and even the ashtray is the size of a fruit bowl. She still pays attention to the topic of Howard Hunter: "Aren't Mr. Howard and Benito Naton on good terms?" "You're talking about the politicians," I asked, "who is Naton?" After hearing that, Javert immediately made a disgusted expression: "You know very well that he is now running for the president of Uruguay." "Yes, I know about it." I admitted. Libertard smiled.She smiled as if promising to pay.I could see that a high-class hooker was like an athlete, with one target at a time: She wanted to see Howard, and of course he could introduce her to Naton. I replied: "Naton is quite noisy now, but he has no role. The president has been in Colorado for a hundred years." "This year," Libertard said, "Naton will win, and your Howard will introduce me to him." Her purpose is so strange, it insults me.I must admit that she only saw me as one link in a series of links.Of course, I was addicted to her femininity, but I wondered if I could find myself in her intimate voice, but her voice was like a wind blowing to each of us. We're almost at an impasse.I asked her why she didn't let Peones introduce her, but the answer was obvious, and she just smiled.If Howard had introduced her to Naton, Naton would have respected her even more.Therefore, I just nodded vaguely, stood up and planned to leave, but I didn't expect Javert to leave with me.They embraced each other like old friends, he patted her slender back, kissed her hand with his bearded mouth, she kissed the corner of my mouth, my face quickly became very alive, just Like being touched by a bird's feathers.Then I thought of where her mouth had kissed tonight, and my face turned red like wildfire. "You'll introduce me to Mr. Howard," she said. "I'll do my best." I replied weakly. I was already mad at Javert on the elevator going down, but I kept my mouth shut, and out on the street, I was the one who insisted on taking the Las Ramblas instead of the highway.Until we got to the safety of the sand, I was still trying to control my temper. "How could you put me in such a passive position?" I finally said, "You don't consider me a friend at all." He said: "I am thinking for your benefit. I just want you to see a rare talent in our country, which is the iconic character of the genius of Uruguay - the prostitute." "Shut up," I said, "you can't be trusted." Unexpectedly, my outburst made him docile. I wondered if I had shown this side of me a few months ago.But the problem is that my temper is not a reliable tool. "How can you be so selfish, so stupid, and so careless!" I shouted, "You should be fired!" "You have attracted other people's attention," he said, pointing to two couples sitting on the beach carpet a hundred meters away, "They are looking at you." "Let's go back to the safe house and I'll explain." "Don't forget, we can't do without you, you have the responsibility to explain all this." He did explain.We sat in the safe house, and after coming out of her living room, we went back to the safe house, which was furnished like a good crisp shirt.I've found that my threats to put him out of work haven't deterred him, and we're now paying him $100 a week, an expensive fortune, sometimes $120 or more.Give up this job and he has almost no money.However, that's only one of his motivations for doing it, another reason has to do with Libertard.After I severely criticized him, he said: "You are right, I want to use you, I admit, this is against the agreement. The basic rule should be that you use me, and I should not violate the most basic relationship." "Then why are you doing this?" "Because she made the request." "So, is your relationship with her also using each other?" "Yes, the original relationship has been broken." He started telling me their stories, having known Libertard for most of his life.They went to TU together, freshman year, they fell in love, she adored him, and he went to New York.By the time he returned, she had become a whore.However, when he went to see her, he never paid and still felt bad.Then she decided to become a high-class prostitute and went to Havana.When she came back, she didn't love him anymore.She just likes him, but he loves her so much that he can't extricate himself. "I despise her," he said, "but I don't have the strength to leave her completely. She has become a carefree woman." I know why he chose to say those words in Spanish.They live a mediocre, hopeless life, like "a woman without a soul." Kitteridge, I'm developing the instincts this job requires.Javert ended his story sadly, weeping with his head on the cheap orange lac table in the safe house.I said, "Why are you still lying? We all know where Libertard is from, it's not Tega at all." I was just pretending to know the truth, but there was something wrong with his story.The couple, who have known each other since childhood, are sentimental. "Well," he said, "it's far from the truth." Kitteridge, it's too late now, I'll stop here.I didn't get the truth that night, indeed, I needed to work harder.But I assure you, this truth is certainly extraordinary.Just be patient and I'll let you know in a day or two.I think I'd better confess to you that it bothers me that you don't tell me about "Dracula's Lair." love you most