The Death Relic (14 page)

Jones grinned. ‘I never told you about this?’

‘You said you met in the military, but you never gave me the specifics. I think I would have remembered because I’ve always wondered.’

‘Trust me, you
definitely
would have remembered. Because the first time I met Jon, I thought he was the biggest asshole in the world.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’

The comment surprised her. ‘What didn’t you like about him?’

‘Just about everything. He was Navy; I was Air Force. He was white; I was black. He was rich; I was broke. He was tall; I wasn’t. Not much common ground to work with.’

‘I guess not.’

‘The worst part? We were up for the same command, and he got the post instead of me. Pissed me off something fierce. I figured he got the unit because of his connections, or his skin colour, or something that shouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference, and I held it against him for the longest time. I’m sure this will come as a huge shock to you, since you hold me in such high esteem, but I can be a royal pain-in-the-ass when I want to be.’

‘Noooooo!’ she said sarcastically.

‘Hard to believe, huh?’ He laughed at himself. ‘Anyway, the military, in their infinite wisdom, made things worse by making me his second-in-command. New unit, new rules, and the two officers in charge couldn’t stand each other. I’m telling you, for the first month or so, I was a prickly S.O.B. I was never technically insubordinate because I didn’t want to get thrown in the stockade, but every chance I got I made his life a living hell.’

‘For a month?’

‘Or three.’

‘How’d he handle it?’

‘Much better than I would have,’ Jones assured her. He paused for a moment as he thought back to his younger days. ‘That’s when I realized he was
special
, not some pampered rich kid who’d been given a job for the wrong reason, but someone who deserved the command. As hard as this is to admit – and you’ll
never
get me to admit it in front of Jon – the Pentagon made the right choice. Not only was he the better soldier, he’s also the better man.’

Maria shook her head. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

He shrugged. ‘Believe what you want to believe, but I’m telling you the truth. That’s how I honestly feel. If I didn’t, do you really think I would’ve stayed by his side for so long?’

Years in the trenches had taught Payne to remain calm in the worst circumstances, so he barely blinked an eye when DeJute challenged his story. ‘What aren’t you buying?’

‘The entire thing about the break-in. Something else is going on. Something bigger.’

‘Such as?’

DeJute looked at him. ‘Identity theft.’

‘Identity theft? Why do you think that?’

‘We see it all the time in Mexico. A wealthy gringo comes to town and the locals take advantage. I mean, why else would they steal her passport? They got her name, her photo and her country of origin. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re applying for credit cards as we speak.’

Payne doubted the possibility but didn’t want to hurt the feelings of the one guy who could help him. ‘You might be onto something.’

‘I know I’m onto something.’

‘In that case, we need to see who broke into her room immediately. Maybe we can stop the bastards before they bleed her dry. Maybe even save my job.’

‘You got it, chief. We’ll nail their Mexican asses to the wall.’

Payne ignored the racism and pointed at the control panel. ‘While you’re pulling up the video feed, mind if I call my assistant? I want to see if they grabbed anything else, like her driver’s licence or a credit card.’

‘Good idea. The more they know about her, the more damage they can do.’

Payne hit the speed dial as he walked towards the outer office.

Jones answered on the second ring. ‘How’s it look?’

‘Great. We’re pulling up the feed now. The head honcho is an American who really knows his shit. He wants to nail their Mexican asses to the wall.’

DeJute heard the comment from across the room and gave him a thumbs-up. ‘We’ll get the spics and beat them like piñatas.’

Jones grunted. ‘Sounds like a real winner.’

Payne smiled at the sarcasm. ‘He thinks it might be identity theft because of the stolen passport. Says it happens a lot down here.’

‘Maybe so, but I highly doubt it in this case. Identity thieves wouldn’t trash her room. They’d try to slip away unnoticed because it would give them more time to operate.’

‘I couldn’t agree more.’

Jones glanced across the parking lot. The only person in sight was Maria, who was quickly running out of patience. ‘How much time do I have?’

‘More than you possibly need. There are cameras all over the place, which means tons of footage to examine. Odds are pretty good I’ll get eyes on the incident.’

‘You talking about the break-in or Hamilton’s disappearance?’

‘Both. If something happened here, I’ll definitely get to see it.’

DeJute punched a few buttons and pulled up the video from the camera near Maria’s suite. He tapped another key, and the live feed appeared on the centre monitor. The screen was four times as large as the others and would give them a better view of the break-in. ‘Not much going on right now. Just an empty hallway.’

Payne glanced over DeJute’s shoulder and got a feel for the control panel, just in case he needed to pull up some footage on his own. ‘Empty is good.’

‘Unless you’re talking about my glass at happy hour. Then empty is
bad
.’

‘You got me there.’

‘Of course, I have to be careful when I drink. Don’t want to get a
DUI
in my wheelchair. No telling who I might run over in this thing.’

Payne pushed his personal feelings aside – he’d lost his parents to a drunk driver – and ignored the comment. ‘The incident took place sometime between four and seven p.m.’

DeJute entered the data on his keyboard, and the video skipped back to 4 p.m. the previous afternoon. From there, he grabbed the joystick on the control panel and tilted it to the right. This sped the video forward. ‘Pretty cool, huh? I control everything with this little lever. I can go backwards or forwards, up or down, in or out. Whatever I want to do.’

‘Let’s go forward until we see someone in the hallway.’

‘You got it, chief.’

Nothing appeared on the monitor until Maria departed the suite. Wearing a sundress and sandals, she opened the door, closed it behind her, then made sure it was locked. After that, she strolled down the corridor towards the elevator.

DeJute pointed at the screen. ‘Is that your boss?’

‘Yep. That’s her.’

‘I’ll be damned. I know who that is!’

Payne tensed. ‘You do?’

‘I sure as shit do. That’s Mariachi Maria!’

‘Excuse me?’

DeJute laughed to himself. ‘Your boss is Mariachi Maria. How funny is that?’

Payne stared at him. ‘I think you’d better explain.’

He leaned forward and tapped a few buttons. ‘I can do better than that. I’ll let you see the video for yourself.’

‘The video? Of what?’

‘Sometimes when we get a really important client, the hotel mariachi band is summoned to greet them by the front door. Well, your boss lady was selected for the royal treatment.’

‘She was?’

DeJute nodded. ‘I’ve been playing this video all day long. It’s actually kind of sexy. After a while, she gets into the music and starts to shake her chi-chis.’

Payne watched the video of Maria’s arrival and couldn’t help but smile. In a span of five minutes, she went from confused to embarrassed to downright festive. For him, it was a pleasant surprise, because it revealed a side of her personality he wasn’t familiar with. Jones had always claimed that she was fun – that she liked to dance and goof around – but Payne had never seen it for himself, because whenever he’d been with her there was always an imminent threat of danger.

‘If you can, please burn me a copy. I’d love to have it in case she fires my ass. You know, as blackmail material.’

‘Dude, I like the way you think.’ DeJute reached to his right and opened a small filing cabinet under his desk. Inside, there were hundreds of DVDs. He grabbed the first disc in the stack and handed it to Payne. It was labelled ‘Mariachi Maria’. ‘You can have my copy. I’ll burn another one later for my personal collection.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’

‘No problem at all.’

‘If it’s OK with you, can we go back to the other feed now? Maybe I can save my job before I have to play this card.’

‘You got it, chief.’

DeJute hit a few keys and the hallway video returned to the point where they’d left off: Maria had just departed her suite and was headed for the elevator. DeJute grabbed the joystick and tilted it to the right. The video sped forward at ten times the normal speed. He stared at the screen intently, patiently waiting for someone to make an appearance in the corridor.

Several seconds passed before someone finally did.

Jones and Maria walked across the parking lot at a leisurely pace. Not from overconfidence, but to draw as little attention to themselves as possible.

‘Hamilton’s car is just ahead. It’s the maroon Hummer H2.’

‘How do you know?’ Jones asked.

‘Because he told me he was driving a maroon Hummer H2. And when I checked the parking lot last night, it was the only one here.’

‘In that case, I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s probably his vehicle.’

She gave him a friendly punch. ‘Thank goodness you’re here. I never would have figured that out on my own.’

Jones smiled. ‘Well, I am a trained professional.’

‘I know you are. That’s why I gave you a call.’

A few seconds passed before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was a little less jovial. ‘Actually, you didn’t give me a call. You called Jon, not me.’

The comment stung her so much she stopped walking. She paused for a moment, took a deep breath, then rushed to catch up with Jones, who didn’t break stride until he reached the H2.

‘About that,’ she said as she grabbed his arm.

He shook his head. ‘Not now. We’ve got a job to do. Can’t lose focus.’

‘Right. Sorry. You’re right. We can talk about it later.’

‘Or not.’

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘We
will
talk about it later.’

‘Fine! We’ll talk about it later. But if it’s OK with you, I’d prefer if our conversation didn’t take place inside a Mexican prison.’

‘Right. Of course. Sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry. Do your job. Stand over there and let me know if anyone’s coming.’

DeJute stopped the video and zoomed in on the elevator a few seconds after the doors had opened. Standing in the hallway were two stocky Latin men with short black hair. Dressed in casual clothes and designer sunglasses that obscured their faces, they took a moment to get their bearings before they walked down the corridor towards Maria’s suite.

‘Look familiar?’ Payne asked.

‘Not at all.’

‘Can you print that image for me? I’d like to have it.’

‘No problem.’

The men stopped in front of her door and glanced in both directions. With no one in sight, one of them pulled out a keycard and inserted it into the slot. A moment later, the light turned green and the men entered the suite.

Payne pointed at the screen. ‘Did you see that? They had a key.’

He nodded. ‘I can’t walk, but I
can
see.’

‘Where did they get a key?’

‘Honestly, any number of places. The front desk, a maid’s cart, even your boss’s pocket. That’s the problem with keycards. They can be duplicated very easily.’

‘Then why do you use them?’

‘Two reasons,’ he explained. ‘First of all, they’re inexpensive. If someone loses a card, it costs us less than a nickel to replace it, which is a lot cheaper than calling a locksmith.’

Payne grunted in disgust. ‘In other words, hotels care more about saving money than protecting their guests.’

‘And that surprises you?’

‘No, I guess not.’

DeJute glanced back at him. ‘Don’t worry, chief. In cases like this, the hotel’s cheapness actually works to your advantage.’

‘How do you figure?’

‘Anytime a keycard is used, my computer keeps track. If you give me a minute, I can tell you when their keycard was made, who it was given to, and where it’s been used before.’

Payne smiled. ‘In that case, all is forgiven.’

Jones spotted two cameras in the parking lot during his advance surveillance. One was on the far side of the complex; the other was facing the driver’s side of the H2 from roughly 20 feet away. Fearing detection, he purposely kept his back to the camera by working on the driver’s side door. Not only would it keep his face off the surveillance footage, it would also block the camera’s view of his lock-picking expertise.

‘Am I clear?’ Jones whispered into his headset, which was synched to his mobile phone via Bluetooth.

Maria answered from the edge of the parking lot. ‘Looks clear to me.’

Using the homemade lock picks he carried in his wallet, Jones went to work on the door. Fifteen seconds later, it popped open with a click. ‘I’m in.’

‘Already?’

‘Actually, that was slow. With a bump key, I can beat ten seconds.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really.’

‘Wow! That’s awesome … Wait. What’s a bump key?’

He sighed. ‘Can we talk about it later?’

‘Sorry.’

Jones climbed into the Hummer and quietly closed the door. Once inside, he felt a lot less vulnerable. The heavily tinted windows and reflective sunshade that protected the H2’s interior from the heat of the Mexican sun also concealed his actions and identity from the outside world. As long as no one had spotted him breaking in, he knew he was reasonably safe.

‘Still clear?’

‘Yes,’ she assured him.

Jones leaned across the centre armrest and opened the glove compartment. Inside there was a pair of sunglasses, a spare set of keys and a rental agreement for the Hummer. He grabbed the paperwork and tucked it into his cargo pants, hoping it would give them a better understanding of Hamilton’s movements before his trip to Cancún. If they figured out where he’d come from, perhaps they could locate the other members of Hamilton’s research team and get to the bottom of his disappearance. Or, at the very least, find out why Maria had been invited to Mexico.