Silver Bullets (16 page)

As soon as they turned on their cell phones, she received a call from Rodo and he one from Ortega: Listen, jerk-off, I'm going to put somebody on who wants to curse your mother. He did not have time to say no. Lefty? Who's that speaking? Memo. Hey, Memo, what's up, how are you? I wanted to thank you for the book. Don't you still want it? Of course I do, thank you. Have you started reading it? I'm on page sixteen. And you don't get it, right? Well, no, but I'm still going to read it so the teach won't fail me. Do right by the jerk, make it clear that nothing is going to keep you down. You bet, I'll put my father back on. See you later, buddy, and take care of yourself. Montaño's looking for you. What's that about? They gave him the body of young Barraza and Briseño shit all over him, but he stood his ground like the toughest of the tough. I'll have to buy him a few beers. You'd do better to get him a woman, he'd prefer it. I don't think that numbskull is lacking for women, he gets 365 fucks a year and on leap years he takes pride in not missing the 366th. He doesn't screw himself only because he can't reach. They say he can, but he doesn't like himself. Oh, I was forgetting, the bullet that killed Barraza is made of silver, 9-mm, maybe shot from a
Beretta. You don't say. You suspected as much, right? Well, yeah. Why? Dunno. Instinct is a tool that should never be neglected. That's what they tell you in the courses. Follow your nose, Lefty, it's about time you figured out what's up with these murders. Where did they find it? The lady across the street had it, Emma I think her name is, what a skunk, she admitted she wanted to give it to her husband, but the guy just sneered at it, listen, I'll see you later. Wait, do you know why the Lone Ranger only shot silver bullets? To match his horse. He hung up. We have a pattern, he murmured. Zelda, who was still chatting with Rodo, did not respond.

Briseño welcomed them with a smile.

Mendieta, two things, Señor Barraza explained to me about the young man who was turned over to the forensic doctor without my consent, don't worry about it, no problem, I like it when you follow orders I don't give; as far as continuing with the Canizales case, both the deputy district attorney and myself think things should stay as they are, so no sniffing around and I don't want any argument, take a few days' rest, the repairs to your house and car will be taken care of by the DA's office; you gotta feed your face and cook a lot 'cause this old world is going to pot. But that leaves my fate hanging. What do you mean? The two murders and I form a trilogy, Ezequiel Barraza was also taken down with a silver bullet. It's some show-off, plenty of them around. Engineer Canizales will not be pleased to have the investigation suspended. Engineer Canizales is more concerned about the big chair than about his family, stop worrying, let the world keep turning, and when I call you, answer, asshole, if you don't want me to dock your pay.

Zelda, the case is closed, definitively, let's take a few days off, you can start Rodo's celebration today, I'm going somewhere to take a break. Are you serious? Of course, everything is in order.
I don't get it. It's an impossible case, which soon no one will remember, in our report, which no one will read, we'll say that once again the powers that be weighed in. Angelita interrupted them from the doorway: Lefty, Robles is asking for you. Tell him I'll see him on the way out. He picked up his Palm, made signs to Zelda that they should get going. Before leaving he turned, took the bouquet of flowers, and tossed it in the wastebasket without a petal dropping; even trashed, the flowers looked beautiful and significant.

Waiting for them with Robles was Frank Aldana.

Mendieta signaled to Zelda to take charge. Señorita, I did not kill him, I swear, I could never kill someone I loved, I ran because I was afraid, in this country falling into the hands of the police is the worst that could happen to anyone; Bruno was with me for a little while in Mazatlán Thursday night, we went out to eat and he headed back about 1:00 a.m.; you have no idea what an awful time I've had, but I can't stand it anymore, if you are going to arrest me, just do it, I'd rather be in jail than go on trying to hide. Zelda kicked him in the crotch, punched him in the face, grabbed him by the shirt: Get lost, asshole, I don't want to see you again in my life, ever, do you hear? If you cross my path again, for as long as you live, I will kick the shit out of you. She shoved him hard. Mystified, Aldana fled in a hurry. Robles could not shake his astonishment. So what's wrong with you? Nothing, Agent Toledo, nothing. They left. Once they were in the Beemer they laughed to their hearts' content.

He dropped her at the DIF, where she had left her car.

He turned on the radio: “So far this year, the State Human Rights Commission has recorded three cases in which police officers handed detained people over to private individuals so they would be ‘disposed of,' according to Commission President Óscar Loza Ochoa. The most recent of these documented cases
occurred on January 19 of this year, at which time Professor Loza made the following recommendation. . . . Get the full story on
Eyes on the Night
. This is Daniel Quiroz reporting.”

He turned it off. Fucking Quiroz, you keep biting the hand that feeds you.

Like a curse, the fragrance wafted out of his pocket. He pulled out the card, looked at the number, sniffed it. Fabulous. A stoplight held him up at Zapata and Bravo, among the jumble of road signs one pointed to the Col Pop and another to Ley Tres Ríos supermarket and its parking lot, which had been their meeting place. He took out his cell phone. Before anyone answered he hung up and turned toward his own neighborhood. He was sweating. He was cursing. He was banging on the steering wheel. When he reached Santa Cruz, he changed his mind, made a U-turn, and drove toward Tres Ríos. They were right when they said you don't need to study to become a bonehead.

Remember and die.

He turned in the direction of the Fiesta Inn, went under the Orabá Island bridge, and a minute later parked in the usual place. He saw the kid with the beret come out with a shopping cart and start unloading it into a Windstar van. He smiled. Without love, I am a piece of shit.

He answered a call from Laura, who told him about the assault. I'm scared stiff, Commander. Do things the way you always do and don't let any strangers come close, I'll stop by. You can't come now? Impossible, I'll call tomorrow. He turned off the cell phone.

Forty-five minutes later, not having dared to make the move, convinced that he was doing the right thing, he drove home.

Goga Fox was there waiting for him. He turned on the cell phone, hoping against hope for a call from God, from the Devil, from anyone. Nothing but missed calls from her. She approached
him smiling, white skirt, red blouse, the usual perfume, she got into the passenger seat. Did you call me? From the doorway Trudis waved, her smile between genial and aghast. Why don't we go to Altata, I'd love a ceviche at Gustavo's, and while we're there you can have your chat with Mariana if you like, he drank in her strong, aerobics-toned legs, we could also stay in the city, that is, if you don't have any commitments with the traffic cop. Without a word, he accelerated toward Zapata, one of the routes to the shore.

He who knows of romance will say nothing and simply understand. Sincerely, J. Solís.

Beatriz felt uneasy. She looked at the mother so in shock that she lacked even the strength to cry, and she felt afraid, she touched her belly. What could the woman expect if she had two children with her former boss? A guy whom Ezequiel cursed. Oh, why you? Ezequiel, tell me who did it, tell me why. I know it couldn't have been her, but I can't stop thinking it was; you claimed you loved her so much that nothing she did to offend you could hold you back, but you must have crossed a line. You had nothing but scorn for me, and I'm the one who adores you, it's like that Sor Juana sonnet I told you about at the recital: “The ingrate who leaves me, to be his lover I yearn; / the lover who cleaves to me, I, the ingrate, do spurn; / constantly I adore the one who my love ne'er returns; / I abhor the one in whom constant love for me burns.” Is this the way it's always going to be?

She moved away from the señora to receive the condolences of her fellow actors and to chat a bit. Everyone thought going to Mexico City to study would be fantastic. Any place but here. She began to relax. Then the Mandrake turned up at the head of the neighborhood gang. There were thirteen of them, all wearing black T-shirts and torn jeans; several had dyed hair. One
of them proceeded to scrawl “Zeke rules barrio 32” in big letters on the white wall of the room. Beatriz asked the funeral home employees not to be alarmed, to include the cleanup in the charges. My girl Betty, the Mandrake said firmly, my man Zeke rules, no one comes close, I want you to know we are truly bummed out and we are gonna find the dope that did him, we went to the place where he went down and no one saw nothing, only that they whacked him with a silver bullet. They told you that? You know I got my connects and, well, whatever we can do for you, just say the word.

Thirty-six minutes later, she called Mendieta and told him. Detective, what do you make of that, it's not as if he were a werewolf, she could hear shrieks of terror, what was that? Beatriz, thank you for calling, right now I have to break up a fight, I'll look for you later at the funeral home. But are you all right? Absolutely, I dropped in on Gori Hortigosa is all, a very dear friend, but he's still working.

Abelardo Rodríguez was drinking from a small silver-plated flask. Beatriz brought him coffee. Drink this instead, Papa, so you can last until tonight. Thank you, Daughter, if you need anything, all you need to do is ask. The Mandrake just told me he was killed with a silver bullet, same as Attorney Canizales. Misfortune never turns up alone, Daughter, it's a divine law. I suppose so, will Mama come? I don't think so, she's been crying as if it were her own son, but she can't get out of bed; Dante is outside with his friends. I saw him.

She sat down again next to the mother, looked long and hard at her frozen features: Cry, señora, it will do you good. The woman turned to look at her: No, my child, I've already done my share of the crying, the rest is his father's job and I'm not going to do it for him; she pressed her lips together.

They hugged.

He was about to turn off the cell phone when Foreman Castelo called: I just heard about your house on
Eyes on the Night
, you moron, too bad they didn't kill you, right now we'd be taking it easy, drinking coffee, telling jokes, and your bosses would be drooling, saying what a good cop you were, how we have to put an end to the violence and then the big cheese would start in. . . . I told you when you lent me the car, didn't you believe me? I thought you were exaggerating, now they say they dug out ninety-six slugs, you must have been shitting yourself, right? There were 102, do you mind if I call you back in a little while, I'm in the middle of an M-26. You just blew it, don't you want to know what you asked me? That's why I always liked you, I'm listening. You didn't even remember, right, asshole? You have your head full of shit just like everyone else. Spill it, I'm about to go into a meeting with my boss. Estanislao Quevedo was staying at the Hotel San Marcos, he came to do a little job for Yoonohoo Valdés, it seems afterward they put him down and dumped him gangsta-wrapped in Piggyback, it all happened a few days ago, that's it. Anything on the silver bullets? They tell me he would meet the clients' specifications. Thank you, Foreman my man,
I'll bring you your rust bucket later. You wish, asshole, and take care you don't end up with a few grams of silver in your head, I heard they knocked somebody off on Clouthier. You know how easily the bros get riled. Don't forget my present on Father's Day.

Estanislao Quevedo or Contreras is a name of some distinction, maybe he's the one we saw in Piggyback.

Are you making progress on the case? The monument to Zapata receded behind them. It just got suspended. Why? I'm not sure, maybe Marcelo Valdés or some other big fish was behind it; if you think the police are keeping an eye on things, think again, it's them who keep an eye on us to make sure we don't step out of bounds, we have to walk a narrow line; Bruno Canizales turned out to be one of those impossible cases. Which if I remember correctly are your favorites. That's right, the line that keeps us afloat is so strict that the moment your attention wanders you go down, but since this case is impossible, nothing will happen. The murderer got away with it, she said kissing his cheek. More likely I got away, what have you been up to? Traveling, you know I'm crazy about those little towns in Europe, walking their narrow streets, the wine, the cafés, the darkness that never seems to fall. Why did you come looking for me? I didn't know anything about the Canizales murder, I told my girlfriends that I came to see you, that I didn't like the way we had parted, and I wanted to give you an explanation; bringing you to Mariana's house was Samantha's idea; those wicked girls, they told me about their run-in with you just before you arrived; I know Valdés was never poor, he was scrupulously careful with his wife's inheritance, why did he become a narco? That's a mystery. Or is it human weakness, “the more you have the more you want”? He's from Badiraguato. Do you think his birthplace matters? I don't know. Edgar, if I'm not mistaken, ever since we left your house that white Lobo has been following us,
he realized he was so nervous he had not kept watch. Are you sure? Not really, but I think so. He could make out two men in dark glasses, he took his Beretta out of the glove compartment and put it between his legs. My God, she breathed, they were across from the Soriana supermarket on Zapata Boulevard, he slowed up a little, Goga dying of nerves kissed him on the cheek, the Lobo accelerated, and before they reached the traffic light at Manuel Clouthier, the copilot uncorked an AK and emptied the mag point blank. The bullets bounced off the windshield and the hood, and all the other drivers floored it. Goga had crouched down and covered her head with her arms. If those idiots want to get killed, we're going to have to give them a hand. Mendieta sideswiped them, and they crashed into a concrete abutment, then he turned to Goga: Get out of here, take a taxi, once I get out of this I'll call you. Are you all right? Of course. I can stay, it's okay. Do what I tell you. Then he called his team.

The killers managed to climb out of the pickup unhurt save for a few scrapes. Throw down your weapons, ordered the detective, taking cover behind the BMW. He saw the AK and two semiautomatic pistols issued exclusively to the army fall to the ground, and he approached carefully, frisked them, and ordered them to squat on the asphalt. Buddy, you've been fingered and you're going down, no point resisting. Is that right? He kicked them, slapped them until they were bleeding from the head, nose, and mouth. Who hired you? Buddy, don't be a wiseass, a fuckload of the bros want to lay you out, you're not going to grow old, you can kill us if you like, but there's no way we'll tell you. Five minutes later Quiroz showed up, along with two ministerial police pickups, where they put the pair.

The journalist contemplated the operation, taking notes: My man Lefty, do you believe this is a follow-up to the attack on your house? If you really think you owe me something, don't
put this shit out, Quiroz. My man Lefty, the public has a right to know. Well, they can go to college, search on the Internet, there are a lot of things more interesting than a fucking gunfight. Listen, I never saw you in this car before. Me neither. Before you go, they stopped talking to me about Canizales. When? Three days ago. That's why you brought out the stuff on Loza and the Human Rights Commission. More or less, who gave the order? Heaven. What are you going to do, the public has a right to know. Suck my thumb.

Fifty-two minutes later, after an intense session with Gorilla Hortigosa, a specialist in people who wouldn't talk, they had confessed and were in the hospital: they were the same ones who had perpetrated the attack on the detective's house and had been hired by Ernesto Ponce, a former judicial policeman better known as the Gringo for his white skin and blue eyes. The guy who washes the clothes, the detective reflected. He passed the information on to Briseño, who truly did not know how to proceed. I hope at least you'll make a call, Mendieta said, I mean, you're the one with the good relations. He left before the chief could utter a word.

He went into the Hotel San Marcos, sat at the bar, and tossed back two tequilas and three beers. What should I do? Should I call her, go pick her up, or just forget her? She came to see me, is that a sign from God? Kids, you make such a nice couple, I want to see you together, you, leave that stupid guy you live with and go to him, he's the one I've picked out for you, and you, you shouldn't be alone, didn't I preach love? Didn't I say love one another? You could even talk to each other about your problems, all that garbage you have in your heads. He saw her walking to the bathroom to wash, he saw her coming back refreshed, her hair pulled back, looking for the cigarettes. Remember when we both fell asleep? And when she turned on her cell phone,
she sputtered: My husband is going to kill me. It is so nerve-wracking not knowing what to do. Fucking unconscious, they nearly kill you and here you are stuck in the Bible. That's why we are the way we are.

The bar was half full. They interrupted a soccer match with a news bulletin from the local station. Mendieta asked for another tequila and another beer, not paying attention to anything.

You're a policeman, the bartender fixed him with a cold stare, you're the one on television beating up two young kids involved in a car crash, some guy filmed you from his car with his cell phone; will you people never change? Will you ever show any respect for the people you arrest? Will human rights ever enter your minds? Those poor boys were practically massacred for a minor collision with a concrete post where nobody got hurt. He felt the urge to leap over the bar and kick the guy to pieces: Friend, let me give you a piece of advice, never stick your nose where it doesn't belong. This involves all of us, sir, Mexico is changing, even if you don't do your part, there is more democracy today. Democracy my balls, give me the bill before I do something I shouldn't; he was giving off sparks. It's on the house. On the house of your whore of a mother, asshole, give me the bill or I'll bust your fucking ass.

He went out wishing it was into another life.