‘Don’t lie to me, Gabe,’ she said, her voice wavering. ‘They didn’t plant a bomb in our car for no reason.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ cried Gabriel. ‘They put it there to destabilise our campaign. The bomb was meant for me.’
Should she believe him? His cheeks were pink and his eyes wide, but all powerful men lied, they had to. She had heard enough of the glib half-truths coming from her father’s tongue to know that much.
‘A journalist at the Palumbo press conference told me you’d been accepting contributions to your campaign from the Andres brothers.’
‘That’s a complete lie,’ he spat. ‘Did you believe him? Did you really think I would stoop so low?’
‘I didn’t believe her, Gabe. Not once did I doubt you, which is why I never brought it up. But now . . . now Caro is dead.’
Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. The shame and guilt of Caro’s death when the car bomb had been meant for them was almost too much to bear. Could she have acted when the journalist had told her about Gabe’s corruption? Could she have saved Caro?
‘You asked me once if I’d ever done anything bad,’ she said, struggling to get her words out. ‘I found a body on my father’s island, the body of one of his staff. And I did nothing, I turned a blind eye and there was never any justice for the person who had killed him. I’m not going to let that happen again.’
‘So what do you intend to do?’ said Gabriel angrily. ‘Expose your husband as a corrupt politician, tell the world I took bribes from the drug lords? Do you really think that will bring Caro back?’
‘Did you take money, Gabe?’ she insisted. ‘Answer me!’
‘No,’ he said, looking away from her, across the river.
‘Oh my God,’ she gasped, her eyes wide. ‘You did, you took a kickback.’
‘Yes!’ he yelled. ‘If you really must know, I did take money, but not from those animals the Andres brothers, or from any of the cartels.’
‘So who did you take it from?’
Gabriel glanced at her. ‘The Americans,’ he said simply. ‘When I went to Washington at New Year, it was to discuss a military counter-narcotics programme.’
‘So why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because I was ashamed!’
‘But you did it for the right reasons,’ said Grace.
‘Yes, Grace, but there’s always a price to pay, isn’t there?’
‘Caro, you mean?’
‘Not Caro,’ he said dismissively. ‘The debt we will owe the Americans. Don’t you understand, Grace? I have sold my country to a superpower. Yes, they want to stop the spread of drugs, but they’re far more interested in having countries like us in their debt, jumping to their tune.’
It was only at that moment that Grace could see how far her husband had got away from her, how little there was left of the man she had married. He had started w
ith ideals, a passion and a duty, but now he couldn’t even see that someone dying in his place was tragic. He couldn’t see that his plan to free Parador had almost got him and his children killed.
‘Do you really want to win this election so much?’
‘Of course I do,’ he replied incredulously.
‘I’m not sure I do, Gabe. I want to help people, and I’ve come to love the people of your country. But do I want to change the world? In Parador at least, that price feels too high. I’m twenty-four years old, Gabe. We have a family. I just want us to be happy. Safe.’
He shook his head. ‘We’ve come too far to turn back now,’ he said.
‘No, Gabe,’ she said, clutching his arm. ‘We haven’t, we can always change. If you don’t win this election, you can return to your books. You can still lobby the West to help your country, but sometimes you can be more effective outside politics than inside.’
‘If I don’t win, Grace,’ he said firmly, ‘then I’m going to try again. The next elections are only in four years’ time. And there’ll be risks again. You know that.’
‘But look how big the risk is, Gabe! Caro is dead! What good will it do if you die too? Or me? Or the twins? You can’t help people if you’re dead.’