I laughed.

'Well, we've established something,' she said. 'That you are running away.'

'Yes. That's my story. If you're really interested, it's the same story as always. The Flying Dutchman. The Wandering Jew. There's been quite a bit of travel involved, one way or the other. I thought I was safe here in Cuba.'

'No one is safe in Cuba,' she said. 'Not any more.'

'I was safe,' I said, ignoring her. 'Until I tried to play the hero. Only I forgot. I'm not the stuff of which heroes are made. Never was. Besides, the world doesn't want heroes. They're out of fashion, like last year's hemlines. What is now required are freedom fighters and informers. Well, I'm too old for the one and too scrupulous for the other.'

'What happened?'

'Some obnoxious lieutenant of military intelligence wanted to make me his spy, only there was something about it I didn't like.'

'Then you're doing the right thing,' said Melba. 'There's no disgrace in not wanting to be a police spy.'

'You almost make it sound like I'm doing something noble. It isn't that way at all.'

'What way is it?'

'I don't want to be the coin in anyone's pocket. I had enough of that during the war. I prefer to roll around on my own. But that's just part of the reason. Spying is dangerous. It's especially dangerous when there's a good chance of being caught. But I dare say you know that by now.'

'What did Marina tell you about me?'

'All she needed to. I kind of stopped listening after she said that you shot a cop. That pretty much brings the curtain down on the movie. My movie, anyway.'

'You speak like you don't approve.'

'Cops are the same as anyone else,' I said. 'Some good and some bad. I was a cop like that myself, once. A long time ago.'