Skull Duggery (27 page)

The next morning, the Hacienda Encantada itself seemed to be in a state of shock. When they entered the dining room at eight thirty, they found no guests, no food on the buffet table other than a pot of coffee and an opened package of sliced white bread, and no Dorotea. In the nook at the far end of the room, at the table reserved for the Gallaghers, Carl and Annie appeared to be comforting a crying, mumbling Josefa, who, if Gideon remembered correctly, was Tony’s aunt.

At the sight of Gideon, both Carl and Annie jumped up, with a flurry of questions, of expressions of shock and concern over what had happened to him at Yagul, and of contrition on Tony’s behalf.

It was enough to fluster Gideon a little. “Hey… you two don’t owe me any apologies; it wasn’t your fault. I’m just sorry it had to end the way it did.”

On that point, everybody agreed, and Annie went to the buffet table. “Let me get you both some coffee. Sorry, not Dorotea’s magic brew, just plain old straight coffee.”

“Dorotea didn’t come in today?” Julie asked.

“Dorotea didn’t come in today, and Dorotea won’t come in tomorrow, and Dorotea’s not coming in next week. Dorotea quit.”

“Quit?” Gideon asked. “After all these years? Because of Tony?”

“Tony? No, she didn’t give a damn about Tony. She never could stand him. What’d you think, that was an act?”

I sure did, Gideon thought. “Well, then, why-”

“Because of Preciosa.”

“Preciosa?”

“Yes, because-oh God, you don’t even know, do you? Preciosa’s getting the Hacienda. Tony left it to her.”

“Preciosa?” Julie cried.

“I better get back to Josefa,” Carl said, heading back toward the weeping woman.

“Yes, in his will,” Annie said. “At least that’s what Preciosa told us, and why would she lie? Tony’s lawyer is coming from Mexico City to read it to us-Jamie’s at the airport to meet her-so we’ll have the official version before the morning’s out.”

“But why would Dorotea quit?” Julie asked. “The Hacienda will still be functioning, won’t it?”

“Oh sure, but she refuses to work for Preciosa. It’s not just Preciosa herself, either. The Hacienda’s going to be a different place. No more dude ranch angle. She’s already told Pop the horses are going. If he wants to stay on as a general caretaker, he’s welcome.” She looked back at him. “He won’t, of course,” she said sadly. “I’m not sure what he’s going to do.”

“That’s awful,” Julie said. “What about you? What about Jamie?”

“She didn’t say. I guess for the moment, we have our jobs. At this point, I’m not sure we’ll want them. As for poor Josefa, she’s out.

Preciosa told her she’s canned, gave her one week to find someplace else.” Only at this point did Annie’s eyes gleam with tears. “Damn. Now where’s she supposed to go? Who’s going to take her in?”

While talking, they had continued moving slowly toward the table, and now they could hear what Josefa was saying. “Where I’m gonna go? What I’m gonna do?” she was moaning-as usual, not quite directly at Carl, but at some invisible person somewhere in front of or behind him. She mopped at her eyes with a wadded, grungy handkerchief. “Old lady like me.” Carl had her free hand in both of his big ones and was patting it and making impotent masculine sounds of solace.

“Oh gosh, this is terrible,” Julie said. “Where’s Preciosa now?”

“She’s waiting in the meeting room in the old chapel, next to the office. That’s where we’ll meet with the lawyer.”

Outside, a van pulled up and Jamie climbed out of the driver’s seat. A stern-looking woman of fifty in a severely cut pantsuit exited from the other side. “Here she is,” Annie said, lips pursed, “ Senora Maria Elena Garcia Navarro Sanchez, big-time abogada -our family lawyer. Oh, and look who’s here,” she said as the slide door in back eased open and a gaunt, hard, haggard woman with a cigarette wedged in her mouth climbed wearily down. “Conchita the Nutball-Tony’s wife. Well, sure, why not?-I’m sure she comes in for plenty.”

Julie stared. “ That’s Miss Chihuahua 1992?”

“Second runner-up,” Annie corrected. “She’s, um, changed a little since then.”

“Just a bit, I guess. Wow.”

“I guess that’s what comes of living with Tony,” Gideon said. The truth was, he’d completely forgotten that Tony’d been married.

The new widow remained beside the van, puffing fitfully at the cigarette, but Jamie and the lawyer came in. Jamie was limping a little, but Gideon saw that he was getting around without his cane now.

Senora Sanchez did not waste time with greetings. “Who are these two?” She asked, meaning Gideon and Julie.

“My cousin and her husband,” Annie said. “Julie was helping out while-”

“They are not included in the will. They cannot be present. I’m sorry,” she told them sternly, “you will have to leave.”

“Oh, we’re meeting in the chapel,” Annie said. “Preciosa is there already.”

“Very well. May we go now, please? The will is complex. There are numerous provisions to explain. You are all mentioned in it.” She turned and strode out. Jamie followed, and then Carl, with a final pat on the hand of the disconsolate Josefa.

“Well…” Annie said with a sigh. “Showtime.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things while you’re all in there,” Julie said.

“Not necessary,” Annie told her as she headed for the door. “There’s nothing going on. We’ve canceled bookings for the rest of the week, and gotten other lodgings for the guests we have. It’s been crazy here. The police were all over the place yesterday afternoon and they plan on being back today.”

Senora Sanchez, looking irritated, came back and opened the door. “Didn’t you hear me say everybody? I need to be back at the airport at eleven.”

“Yes, ma’am, sorry, ma’am,” said Annie. “Here I come.”

The lawyer glared at the wretched Josefa, who had stayed slumped in her chair, looking as sodden and bedraggled as her handkerchief. “You too. You are mentioned as well.”

She had to repeat it in Spanish before Josefa understood, and when she did, she looked scared stiff. What new terrors awaited her in Tony’s will? She shook her head no; she wasn’t coming, she didn’t want to know. But Annie came and helped her out of her chair. “Come, dear aunt,” she said affectionately in Spanish, “Tony has left you some money to show his love. Who knows how much?” With her arm around Josefa, they shuffled off together.

“I wouldn’t count on its being a lot,” Julie said to Gideon. “How sad it all is.”

“It sure is.” He snapped his fingers, ineptly as usual. “I just thought of something.” He ran to the door. “Annie? Do you happen to know what Manolo’s last name was?”

He had to wait for her to think of the answer, and when it came, Julie couldn’t hear it. “What did she say?” She asked as Gideon returned.

Gideon smiled. “She said it was Garcia.”WITH nothing to keep them at the Hacienda, they walked down the steep hill to the village and cast about for someplace to get breakfast. Pickings were slim to none, and they ate at El Descanso, where Sandoval and Gideon had had lunch a few days ago: melon juice, pink and frothy; eggs scrambled with beef, onions, tomatoes, and cilantro; fresh, hot tortillas; and coffee. Not quite Dorotea-class, but filling and good.

On the way out they had to stand aside for a group of six or seven sober, pensive men, mostly older, who were just coming in. The last in the line was Flaviano Sandoval, who looked anything but sober. The look on his face was a combination of happiness and relief, the sublime look of a defendant who has just heard the jury foreman say, “Not guilty.”

“ Buenos dias, Chief S-” Julie began.

Sandoval held up his hand. “Not ‘chief.’ Never again ‘chief,’ gracias a Dios.” He grinned at them. “You now address the executive officer of the village council of Teotitlan del Valle. As of this very morning.” He couldn’t stop grinning.

“Well, good for you-you made it!” Gideon said, enthusiastically shaking his hand.

“No more skeletons, no more bones, no more mummies, no more killings,” Sandoval burbled. “What is today’s agenda? Rerouting of the traffic on Avenida Juarez during festivals, and the design of new uniforms for the village band.” He sighed. “It’s wonderful.”

Smiling, they watched him go to join the others. Gideon shrugged. “What the hell,” he said, “chacun a son gout.”

Afterward they strolled aimlessly around the town, which seemed wonderfully tranquil and slow-paced after the grit and clamor of Calle las Casas in Oaxaca. There was the occasional car, but there were also burros, and even a team of oxen pulling a wagon. Mostly the traffic, such as it was, was foot traffic: sombreroed men in white; braided, earringed women in their rebozos and aprons, some with bundles on their heads; nobody going anywhere very fast. At one point a troop of uniformed schoolchildren, led by their teacher, passed politely by, many with shy waves, and giggles, and garbled greetings: “ ’Allo.” “ ’Ow you doing, pardner?” “You know him, Brad Pitt?”

By eleven, the sun was getting uncomfortably warm and they started on the twenty-minute climb up the steep, winding, cobble-stoned hill to the shady protection of the Hacienda. Halfway up it, they had to jump to one side to get out of the way of a black Mercedes that came careening down it, tires squealing on the curves.

“That’s Tony’s car!” Julie said.

“And that’s Preciosa in it,” Gideon said, as it rocketed past. “I don’t think she ever even saw us. I hope she doesn’t kill anybody before she gets wherever she’s going.”

“She didn’t look happy, did she?” Julie mused. “Say, do you suppose Tony didn’t leave her the Hacienda after all?”

It didn’t take long to find out. When they reached the Hacienda (having first stepped aside again for another, slower vehicle, this one a Hacienda van bearing Jamie, Tony’s wife, and the lawyer), they found Carl and Annie, looking thunderstruck, sitting at one of the umbrellaed tables on the terrace. Julie and Gideon slipped into a couple of chairs beside them. “So what happened?” Julie asked. “We saw Preciosa driving away. She didn’t look too pleased.”

Annie was shaking her head. “Tony lied to her. He didn’t leave this place to her at all. He left her some money and a little stock-it was all complicated-and that’s it; I think it comes to around, oh, twenty thousand dollars altogether.”

“Plus his Mercedes, obviously,” Gideon said.

“Nope, he didn’t leave that to anybody. Preciosa just took it.”

“What did the rest of the will say?” Julie asked.

“Well, when you sorted everything out,” Annie said, “almost everything went to his wife. The house in Coyoacan, the investment portfolio… According to Maria, it all comes to somewhere between eight and ten million dollars.”

“You mean,” Gideon said, “he left nothing at all to you folks? What about Jamie, his own brother?”

“Not one… damn… thing,” Carl said. “Hard to believe, especially after all the work Jamie put into this place to keep it afloat.”

“To say nothing of what you put into it, Pop,” Annie said. Carl was stunned, but Annie was angry. “I can’t believe it. What a miserable, ungrateful, lying creep. And then, what he tried to do to you!” She said to Gideon. “What was that all about?”

“Beats me,” Gideon said. “I’m hoping Marmolejo can figure it out, but I don’t honestly see much chance; not now, not anymore.”

“So Tony’s wife now owns the Hacienda Encantada,” Julie said. “How do you think that’s going to play out?”

“Oh no, he didn’t leave the Hacienda to Conchita,” Annie said, surprised. “What made you think that?”

“Well, you said she got everything-”

“I said almost everything. Not the Hacienda.”

“All right, then who owns the Hacienda? Don’t keep us in suspense.”

Carl managed a small smile. “Our new boss,” he said, “is la senora Josefa Basilia Manzanares y Gallegos.”

Julie frowned. “And who is that?”

Carl’s smile morphed into an easy laugh, in which Annie joined. “It’s Josefa-our Josefa!” She cried.

For a moment Julie and Gideon were speechless. “But why?” Julie finally said. “I mean, yes, she’s his aunt or something, but after all, Jamie’s his brother, and-”

Carl answered with a shrug. “Who knows? The will said something about years of faithful service… Something like that.”

“Well, how about that?” Gideon said with a slow smile. “Two hours ago she’s sitting there despondent about being thrown out, and now the whole place belongs to her.”

“She must be overjoyed,” Julie said.

“Au contraire,” said Annie. “She’s more miserable than she was before.”

“Miserable! Why-”

“The poor old gal’s scared to death,” Carl said. “She doesn’t want to own the Hacienda, she just wants things to stay the way they are. She asked if she could still keep her job if she owned the place.”

“We told her she could keep it or not keep it, or do any damn thing she wanted,” Annie said. “We told her we could run the place for her, if she wanted-which is what we’ve been doing anyway-and she could live like a queen and get waited on hand and foot. Or she could throw the bunch of us out, sell the place, and live like a queen anywhere she felt like-and get waited on hand and foot.”

“I’m not sure we got through to her, though,” said Carl. “We spent fifteen minutes carefully explaining everything to her, and she kept nodding her head and mumbling si, si, comprendo, like she understood, and then you know what her question was?”

Annie supplied the answer with an approximation of Josefa’s piteous wail: “But they gonna let me stay in my room, or I gotta move to Tony’s?”

At a few minutes after one, Gideon stood in front of the small, gated courtyard of the Museo de Curiosidades. The gate was closed and latched, but the padlock had been removed. He lifted the latch and entered the courtyard. Once it had probably been a graceful patio, rich with plants and perhaps a welcoming fountain. Now it looked like the entrance to a junk shop, all weeds, cracked cement paving… and junk. On second glance, however, the junk proved to be exhibits, each with a small, faded, foxed, meticulously hand-lettered placard in English and Spanish. To the left of the big oak door of the casa itself was a weathered concrete bust of Kaiser Wilhelm I, complete with spiked helmet: “From the residence of Friedrich Pflegholz, German ambassador to Mexico, 1883-1886.” To the right was the “sacred throne of Axayacatl, emperor of the Aztecs,” an ugly hunk of basalt that an imaginative mind might have construed as being shaped more or less like a chair. Further along, attached to the casa ’s wall by a chain, was a wooden “Chinese empress’s bench.”