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pocket and opened the vault on top of the cart. There were stacks of currency inside, mounds of it—dollars, francs, yen, marks—and a dozen shining gold ingots. Tony lifted one of the gold bars and pressed it over his head like a dumbbell. “Heavy,” he said, noticing that the underside of the bar was stamped with a swastika.
    Felicidad drew the fox close around her shoulders despite the thin bead of perspiration that had formed on her upper lip.
    â€œTony, what is this?”
    â€œMoney. Lots and lots of money.” Tony casually began to stack the new currency into the vault.
    â€œBut where did it come from?” Felicidad asked hesitantly. Her breath was shallow and faint.
    â€œHard work. Investments. A few gifts. It’s retirement benefits, mainly.”
    â€œThey could hang you for this.”
    â€œI didn’t steal it! People give me things—it’s part of my job to do favors, and in return, they give me little donations.”
    â€œTony, this is a lot of favors.”
    â€œMany favors, many donations.”
    â€œI don’t want to know the details,” Felicidad said as she cautiously fanned through a bundle of thousand-yen notes. “And what do you expect from me, with all this?”
    â€œUnderstanding. Patience. Perhaps a little forgiveness. A man like me, I am not so perfect, but you must admit there are compensations. Take that into account, that is what I am saying.”
    â€œEven so, Tony, the power, all this money—it’s not infinite, you know.”
    â€œNot infinite, but isn’t it enough?”
    â€œTony, you ask for the forgiveness of a saint. I am not a saint. How many times you have wronged me! Did you expect to buy me, like one of your whores?”
    â€œFela, I ask you please to respect the fact that I have made you one of the richest women in the world. It is not so small a thing.”
    Felicidad looked at Tony and then at the mountain of cash and bullion. “You have been a good provider, this I agree. So I can tell you this much: what’s in the past is past.”
    â€œThat is all I ask,” Tony said gratefully.
    â€œBut do not expect that this pardons even one more sin against me or your family!”
    â€œNo, of course . . .”
    â€œYou can ask this only once, Tony. The slate is clean. From now on, you must behave yourself. Do not try to find the end of my patience—it is very near!”
    Tony put his hand over his heart. “Fela, I swear to you, from this day forward, I am a new man.”

CHAPTER 2
    T HE FUNERAL procession for Dr. Spadafora began at the airport, where the plane carrying his body from Costa Rica arrived at noon. Thousands waited for him, including many of his comrades from the Victoriano Lorenzo Brigade who had fought with Hugo in Nicaragua against the Somoza dictatorship and then with the Miskito Indians against the corrupt Sandinistas. The spies in the crowd worked furiously, snapping up anecdotes like sharks feeding in a fertile lagoon. “He came to my house with a briefcase,” said one of Hugo’s many beautiful lovers. “He said he could prove Tony was in bed with the narcotraffickers. And he patted the briefcase like a pet.”
    â€œSomeone said he implicated the CIA as well.”
    â€œIs it surprising? Tony and the CIA are together in everything else.”
    â€œCertainly this could not have happened without the Americans agreeing to it. They must have wanted Tony to put a stop to the threats.” Heads nodded. Nothing transpired in Panama without the Americans being involved.
    The motorcade brought the city to a standstill. The Nunciowatched with great concern as the procession stretched along Avenida Balboa like a lizard’s tail. He knew that Father Jorge was in the lead vehicle with the Spadafora family. His young secretary had been chosen to preach the funeral oration.
    It seemed as if everyone in the country were either in