Silver Bullets (15 page)

Laura Frías, wearing a white lab coat, put on New Age music and welcomed her first client: Don Pablo, how are you? Have you eased up on the food the way I told you? I couldn't, Laurita, what I did manage was to start walking every day and I got rid of the warts on my back. What about the ones in your armpits? Next week, I promise. She asked him to strip to his underwear and lie on the table facedown. Let's see how you are doing, Don Pablo. She went right to it, spread massage oil on his back, and set to work. The man, as best he could, stretched his arm back to stroke her ass. Laura saw the avid hand, raised it, and twisted it as if that were part of the massage. The old man moaned with pleasure: it was a ritual that had enchanted him ever since he realized she would never agree to become his Shunammite. Then she put some elbow grease into the massage, and the septuagenarian grew still, purring softly.

She was rubbing his shoulders when two men came in. Gentlemen, please wait in the waiting room, they drew their pistols, I'll be right with you, and put the guns to the heads of Don Pablo, paralyzed, his mouth agape, and Laura, her eyes skipping wildly from one to the other. The boss says if you value your life
you won't go around shooting off your mouth, something you said somewhere she didn't like; the other artfully caressed her behind. I'm going to let you in on something: we're fed up with making threats, even though our orders are just to scare you, next time someone is going to put a bullet in your head, get it? Laura nodded, speechless. The talker waved the gun in her face, amd the other took his sweet time, as long as he could, he was horny; then he shot up the tape player and knocked over the oils. They left.

She sat down, deplored her cleansing tears, and absorbed a wave of sorrow she could not hold at bay: Bruno dear, I have to pray for you and take you white flowers, I have to think of you always and insist your murder not go unpunished. Who is their boss? The old man sitting up on the table observed her. What do you want to know for, Don Pablo? Remember, I was once a judge and people still owe me favors, I'm not saying I can do anything, but suppose I could? They are narcos, Don Pablo, very heavy people, owners of lives and livelihoods. Their style is unmistakable, but maybe they got their start when I was in my prime, if I don't know them I promise not to expose you, I know about these things. I guess so, right? What do I have to lose, their boss is Samantha, daughter of Marcelo Valdés. Well, you have picked quite an enemy, girl. Suppose I suggest we continue another day? Of course, you've had enough, is this Bruno the son of Engineer Canizales? And my best friend. They say he liked to dress up as a woman and give the prostitutes at the Izábal Market some competition. Lies, Don Pablo, nasty lies, I swear. Good, Laurita, let me know when you're ready to have me back.

At the Miró, cell phones off and basking in Rudy's generosity, he received them with red snapper and shrimp tapas like my mother makes, they analyzed the situation.

He told her about the kid with the bike who the night of the murder had seen someone come out of Canizales's house and it wasn't Paola. So we scratch her off? He nodded: Let's not forget that they took the case away from us, today I'm supposed to hand over everything I have to Moisés Pineda. You don't think it was Aldana either. I'm not entirely sure. That leaves us Mariana Kelly, Samantha, and her father. How did it go with Laura? I left you the information on your desk, under the pistol, she's from Guasave, a good family, graduated in psychology, been in the USB for five years, very close to Canizales, her friend Dania Estrada told me she often slept in the guest room at Bruno's house, she was something like his romantic aide-de-camp. That must be why she knows so much. They sat and thought. Laura thinks it was a crime of passion, Canizales wanted to die from a silver bullet and the killer indulged him, and I haven't ruled out a recent friendship, more silence, Aldana watches crime films, but that's not enough; all in all, the Devil doesn't know where
to stick his tail. Will you tell all this to Commander Pineda? He made a gesture of who knows, when in reality he knew he would not give up a single iota. They ate steadily. You look like you didn't sleep well. It's just that I'm starting to go through andropause and that gunfight undid something inside me. Did you go see Señora Canizales? You were going to pick me up, remember? True, but the call from Chief Matías threw me off. Well, it wouldn't be wise now, let's get it into our heads that the case is closed, even though I'd love to know what else she has to say about the father, more coffee was poured. With all you eat, I can't understand why you don't put on weight. Me neither. Boss, is it true you were a narco? Mendieta stared at his half-eaten sandwich; why not give her a vote of confidence? After high school I drove three cars full of coke. To Nogales? To Yuma, it's worth more on the other side. And then? I backed off, I gave half the money to my mother and the rest I spent. What did you study? Spanish literature. Why? I liked to read. You are the first person I've ever met who likes to read, so why did you become a policeman? I can't even remember, what about you? I needed a job; listen, I've never seen you with a book.

Detective Mendieta, Rendón interrupted them. How are things, Professor, how are you? He introduced Zelda Toledo; how is it going with your car, did you go see Señor Urrea? That's what I wanted to speak with you about, Urrea says he knows nothing about it, that his department has no report on it. You didn't report it? Of course I reported it, I guess they lost the paperwork; in any case the car turned up and the insurance company doesn't want to pay, what do you think I should do? Pick up your car and forget about the rest. That's what I thought, but it's a real clunker, a '93, and the truth is I would do better getting the insurance money. I understand, do the insurance people know it turned up? No, I don't think anybody knows,
I found it in the Traffic Department lot, they want to charge me for the towing and a month of parking and I am not lying when I say they want more than the car is worth. Zelda spoke up: Go to the lot and look for Rodolfo Uzeta, she wrote something on a paper napkin and folded it over, take him this, she handed it to him. You can believe it, Professor, that's her fiancé. Then it will work better than a silver bullet. Mendieta looked at him: Hang on, teach, sit down, have a cup of coffee with us, and tell us what you know about silver bullets. I'd rather have a beer, I really don't know much, why did the Lone Ranger use silver bullets? Mendieta and Zelda looked at one another: No clue. Because they're faster than lead ones of course, there is the matter of the myth and that could be one reason, but they gave him a few thousandths of a second to save his skin in a shoot-out. What do you know about the ritual aspects? Rendón tasted his beer, you mean Friday nights, werewolves, vampires, and all that? And their relationship with silver bullets. I would have to look into it. Could you do that? He finished his beer, let's meet here in a few days. Sunday at eleven, don't forget. And don't you be late. Rendón went back to his table, where a Tecate awaited him.

Goga Fox, who had just walked in, came over, evidently intent on flirting. Her perfumed aura arrived with her. Edgar, can I have a word with you? Off balance: Of course. I'm Goga Fox, she gave Zelda a peevish look, and I would like to speak with the man alone, are you a crossing guard? No, Mendieta answered, she's undercover. How interesting, she smoothed a wrinkle in his jersey. Zelda, who knew nothing of the romance but a lot about women, stood up and moved off. Rudy, well acquainted with Goga's tastes, for she had spent many mornings of her life at his tables gossiping with her friends, immediately sent over an Irish coffee. Edgar, she fluttered her eyelids, how have you been? You look like you had a bad night. Wrong, I even dreamed
about angels. What happened the other night was not normal, I didn't expect that reaction. Goga, nothing bores me more than explaining my reactions and any explanation for you would be superfluous of course, that was a horrible idea to send me flowers. I love you, Edgar, I know you haven't been happy, forgive me, my husband was pressuring me more and more, he was asking questions that would have given us away, so when he mentioned your name I chose to make my exit, is it that hard to understand? Because I understand it, I don't want to spoil the party. But don't be so drastic, I came to see you and I don't want to leave without being with you, she put some sugar in her coffee, I have a tender heart, too, believe it or not. They sighed. Give me one night with you, Edgar, she murmured, looking into his eyes, her hands on her breasts. Have you ever, for any reason, wanted to take off running? Well, that's how Mendieta felt, flat on the canvas, he wanted to tell her categorically no, but he could not find a way, so he simply said: I can't. Goga's smile was indifferent: As for Bruno Canizales, I'm on your side, I know sooner or later you will find the culprit; I don't know if one of those two girls is capable of killing, but Mariana was really mad at Canizales, she might have hired someone, I don't know, but what I know for sure is that she's frightened, they've been at the house in Altata since yesterday; I have the impression she wants to speak with you, to clear up whatever she can, it's Samantha who is against it, the least she says about you is that you are a good-for-nothing, she wants to humiliate you, she wants you to come to her on your knees and beg forgiveness. Mendieta observed her, listened to her voice while controlling the chaos inside caused by having that flowered skirt and black blouse within reach. Her perfume was so seductive. She recalled: I like how you take off my clothes, the way you grab my blouse and my skirt as if they were public enemy number one. Why was she telling him that? He was
not going to ask. She pointed at Zelda, who was at the cash: Are you going with her? Yes. She's got lovely skin. We are going to get married. All right, someone finally caught you. We'll see if she doesn't take off like the other one. I don't think so, she looks like she knows which way is up, she grew suddenly serious, she turned toward Zelda, who was utterly at ease talking with Rudy, she's either incredibly confident or she couldn't care less about you. How are things with you? Magnificent, he's at work all day and I go to museums, galleries, or the movies, what's incomprehensible, as you once told me, is that I am the architect of this strange and often unwanted fate; I'm on the verge of believing that you love only once and that everything else is a variation on the same theme, but empty of content; somehow I'm chained to us. He could resist no longer: If you care to know, you are not only the architect of your own fate, you're also the architect of mine.

A uniformed policeman came in: My man Lefty, Commander Briseño sent me for you and for Agent Toledo, he wants to know why you aren't answering your cell phones. Zelda came over. Call me, Goga said, and she handed him a perfumed card. Zelda, whom Rudy had brought up to date, behaved respectfully. Now on her feet, she kissed his cheek with ardent lips, he was tempted to tell her, on both like in Europe, but he had yet to emerge from his daze.

Marcelo Valdés was pacing in his garden and speaking on a cell phone. Below crouched Culiacán, poised to strike. Three guards stood alert, keeping a veiled eye on his movements. You have deceived me in the worst way, how could you dare associate yourself with an imbecile like the Gringo just to take me for a few pesos? Don't you realize the harm you are doing to me, the harm you are doing to my organization? Why the cheap tricks to take me for a few miserable coins? I never denied you a thing, not before or after you were married; your husband was a dolt, that's why he got killed, I supported you both, and as a widow you've never lacked for anything; I don't understand you, Samantha, truly, and I'm growing tired of your foolishness, your lack of consideration. It's not the Gringo's fault, Pa, I forced him. If I hadn't known that, I would have sent him long ago to be with his father, may he rest in peace. They fell silent for a moment. What did you want the money for? I'm going to buy a yacht, I was short. What the hell do you want a yacht for? We're inland people, your mother was born here and I'm from Badiraguato. To keep an eye on your operations at sea, Pa, to make them more profitable. He interrupted her: Who gave you authorization to
do that? It's such an absurd idea, like the zoo I built so animals wouldn't be killed. Papa, you're sick, you can't handle everything, besides it's time I got directly involved, people covet our territory and they're taking potshots from all over. An airplane passed overhead, flying north. Papa, it is your organization, like you just said, an organization that ought to grow stronger every day. Let's not talk about this on the telephone, I'm putting half a million in your account right now as a gift from your mother. What about from you? A million, but in the child's account. You always have to win, don't you? Sincerely, I believe it is the other way around, this is not the first time I've asked you to behave, it's probably this sort of thing that's made me unwell. Don't exaggerate, Pa, it's not like you live in a rose garden. He looked at the flowers around him: Let's just leave it at that, take care and enjoy the sea and the seafood. Wouldn't you just love a fish grilled to perfection? Regarding your possible direct participation, we'll see about that when you get back, and do not ever again tell me that I am sick. He ended the call. He thought a moment, then punched in a number: Go ahead with Ponce. He hung up again and turned toward the city.

It was all lit up. What pests, people spend their lives criticizing us, but do they ever live off of us; I turned this slum into something, I built entire neighborhoods and created more jobs than any government; I will not let them forget that; this was a dusty village when I began, and now look at how big it is; they are going to get me, I know, but before that happens I'm going to relieve them of that stupid policeman. He called again: Take down Mendieta, he said, and he hung up. His wife came out: My love, who do you suppose is on the line? Don Pablo Villavelázquez. She came over with a telephone in her hand.