The Lusts and Gratifications of Andrada

The Services of Security of “Santa Isabella,” that parched and brutalized island satrapy, are notoriously efficient. But Manuel Andrada, who came to me in Boston, was the exception to this cold, deathly rule. He had known only failure and frustration since leaving home on a mission for which he was the least qualified, the most unsecretive “special agent” conceivable. He who so implausibly claimed to represent the National Library and Archives—and in fact did represent them, as well as the dreaded Services of Security—simply looked like a prize-fighter. Or like a man who might, with luck, prove a successful sentry for a warehouse or docks in that burning Caribbean capital. This was in fact the exact opinion later formed of Andrada by Miguel Rubinez, traveling overseer of The...