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Authors: James Carlos Blake

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BOOK: The House of Wolfe
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Get the bride over here, the blond man says to the ponytail.

Luz! Jessie thinks.

The man goes to the other group and returns with Luz and stands her beside Jessie, who's so glad to see her she blurts, “Luzita, are you all—”

The ponytail man grabs Jessie by the nape, hard fingers digging into the sides of her neck. We told you keep your mouth shut, he says at her ear. His hand tightens and Jessie groans.

Let go of her and get the things, the blond man says.

The ponytail retains his grip for another two seconds, then releases her with a shove. Her eyes are flooded with reflexive tears. Mucus drains from her nose. She sucks air through her mouth and has a bleary view of the ponytail going over to the near Suburban.

Right again, she thinks. Blondie's the honcho. And that ponytail son of a bitch doesn't like it.

The blond comes over and holds a handkerchief to her nostrils and says, It's clean, blow. He gives her nose a few gentle squeezes as she does, then he readjusts the hankie and says, Again. And again she snorts into it. He turns her face toward the headlights and wipes her nose and says, Better?

She nods.

Can you breathe through your nose?

She sniffs and says, Yes. She thinks it a strange question.

Don't speak again unless you're told to or you'll get hurt, he tells her, and flings away the hankie. And don't speak English again if you want to keep your tongue. Understood? He says this in the same tone he might tell her the time of day.

She nods. Thinking, Holy shit.

Say it.

I understand.

He looks around at the others and says, That goes for all of you. You won't get another warning. Now form a line facing me. Guys on the ends, the women in between.

They do it, Jessie wondering, What's this?

The ponytail man returns from the Suburban with a bulbous plastic grocery bag attached to his belt, and the blond says, We're going to blindfold and gag you. Don't resist. Just do as you're told and you won't be harmed. I promise you.

The ponytail goes around behind them. He takes a black sleep mask from the bag and slips it over Aldo's head and over his eyes, then takes out a roll of duct tape and wraps a length of it over Aldo's mouth and around his head. Then sidesteps over behind Susi and begins doing the same to her.

Making sure we can't even go for help, Jessie thinks. That we won't be found before morning.

She flinches at the ponytail's touch from behind her. The sleeping mask comes down over her eyes, the tape seals her mouth, and the man moves on.

She stands bound, gagged, sightless, hearing only the rips of tape from the roll. Then hears what she's sure is a soft cry and her fear surges again.

Rape-robberies are not uncommon either.

Now someone takes her by the arm and says, “Por acá, güera.” She recognizes the blond man's voice. She can't help resisting his light pull, and he softly repeats himself, saying, Come with me, blondie. No one's going to hurt you.

She'll fight, she tells herself. Kick the best she can. You can't give in without a fight. It's a rule.

He guides her a few halting yards and turns her around and the backs of her legs come in contact with a solid edge of some sort. She emits a muffled squeak as he hefts her by the waist and sets her on a hard surface, and then someone behind her—the ponytail?—slips his hands under her arms and drags her rearward and eases her down between two other persons lying there. She apprehends they're on the bare floor of the Suburban, whose backseats have been removed.

And now knows . . . this isn't a robbery.

It's a snatch.

5 — THE PARENTS AND EL GALÁN

The Town Car containing the parents of the bride and groom bears north on the beltway's river of traffic. Wearing large-lensed dark glasses, Espanto drives without haste, Huerta beside him, holding a pistol on his lap and half-turned to keep an eye on the two couples crammed into the backseat. The couples are neither gagged nor blindfolded—it wouldn't do for someone in another car to look over and see four persons in such straits—but their hands are cuffed behind them. No one speaks.

It had happened to the parents in such confusing swiftness . . . the Suburban wheeling from around the corner ahead, headlights glaring and police light flashing, blocking the lane . . . the ghostly figure of a spike-haired man in dark glasses at the front window, pointing a pistol at them and commanding them to silence . . . Huerta ordering Mr. Belmonte into the backseat, and the shocked realization that they had been stopped by either corrupt police or outright bandits and that Belmonte's security chief was in league with them . . . the divestment of their phones, wallets, purses . . . the spike-haired man asking if any of them had a GPS device on them and promising he would kill whoever lied, and their swearing in truth that they did not . . . Huerta handing a phone to Mr. Sosa with the instruction to call home and notify his staff that the after party group had decided to go to a nightclub rather than the Sosa residence and that he and Mrs. Sosa were returning to the Belmonte home for the rest of the night and would there spend the next day . . . their hands being cuffed . . . the spike-haired man getting behind the wheel and driving them away, Huerta beside him and assuring them they would not be harmed if they sat still and kept quiet.

So have they done.

The beltway now curves eastward and they stay on it for several miles before exiting onto a northbound highway. A mile farther on, they turn off into a shopping mall and drive around to a far corner of the rear lot where there are few vehicles and park in the darkness of overhanging trees. In the deep shadows, no face in the car is clearly visible.

The spike-haired man tells them that Huerta is going to put sleeping masks over their eyes but they need not be afraid. He holds a pistol on them as Huerta leans over the front seat and slips the elastic-banded masks on each of them in turn. Mrs. Sosa whines softly as the mask is placed on her. The spike-haired man tells her it's all right, there's nothing to fear, but she must keep silent, does she understand?

Yes, she says, yes, I'm sorry.

Huerta sits down again and takes out his Sig 9 pistol. Espanto removes the dark glasses and holsters his gun and exits the car. He walks out into the light of the lampposts and scans the sparsely occupied parking spaces of the nearby rows and spies the vehicle he's looking for, a silver Grand Cherokee, two men silhouetted in the front seat.

A man gets out of the Cherokee's front passenger side and comes to the Town Car. He is tall and lean, his movements fluid. His cream suit superbly tailored. A fedora shades his face above the trim mustache. In his professional circles he is known as El Galán.

“Todo bien?” he asks. Espanto says all is very well.

Espanto gets back behind the wheel and Huerta gets out of the car. Galán assumes the passenger seat and shuts the door and turns to face the masked captives. He tells them his name is Mr. X and that he is responsible for their circumstance. He regrets their discomfort but says there was no other way to do this. His voice has a pleasant timbre and his enunciation is precise.

Mr. Belmonte starts to say, “Por favor, señor, donde están—”

“Silencio,” Galán says without raising his voice, and Belmonte falls silent.

Galán apologizes for his rudeness but says that in the interest of time he will do the talking and they must listen carefully.

To ensure that you understand, I will frequently ask you if you do, and you will respond by nodding or shaking your head. If you shake your head I will clarify my point and then ask again. Do not speak. If you speak, your spouse will suffer. Is everything understood so far?

They all nod.

Very good, he says. The state of things is this. The groom and the bride and the other eight members of your party are in our custody. Your three sons and two nephews, Mr. Belmonte. Your three daughters and your niece, Mr. Sosa. And of course the American girl. They are all safe and will be treated well during the short time they are with us. To regain them from our custody, you must pay a total of five million American dollars in cash. Am I clear, gentlemen?

The two men nod.

Excellent. Your people are being held in two separate groups in two different venues. I will not tell you which persons are in which group, only that there are five persons in each and there are Belmontes and Sosas in both groups. You will pay two and a half million dollars for each group, first one and then the other. The money will be in bills of one-hundred-dollar denomination. I'm fairly sure that you gentlemen do not personally handle cash of any great amount yourselves, so you may not know the physical size of this sum. It will fit handily in the gymnasium bags we are going to provide, two bags for each of you. With the money equally distributed in the bags, each bag will weigh roughly twenty-seven pounds. The bags have padded shoulder straps, but still, twenty-seven pounds on each shoulder can be a burden. However, you both look strong to me. Do you believe yourselves capable of such a burden?

Both men nod.

Good, Galán says. You have until four o'clock tomorrow afternoon to obtain the cash. Do not request more time. It will not be granted to you. Understood?

The men nod.

It should go without saying that it would be a regrettable mistake for you to contact the police, and if—

All four of them shake their heads vigorously.

No, certainly you will not. Still, it is possible that the police might in
some
way learn of the situation and insist on becoming involved. Should that happen, you must rebuff their assistance and immediately inform us. Besides, you cannot be sure that the police who come to you are not in partnership with us. It should come as no shock to you that we have such accomplices within all levels of law enforcement agencies. It is one more sad fact about this sinful world that so many public guardians are so venal. It is true even of private guardians whom one might hire at no small cost, eh, Mr. Belmonte?

Belmonte's mouth tightens at the allusion to Huerta and he nods.

Yes, well, Galán says. Are we quite clear about the police?

They all nod.

Good. I'm pleased with how well this is progressing. And believe me, gentlemen, although I know your primary consideration is the welfare of your children, I also know how much it distresses you to be robbed. Permit me to suggest you take a practical view toward it. I've had a look at your financial portfolios, and quite honestly, I was astounded. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you to deal with such wealth. To a poor workingman like myself, five million dollars is a fantastic amount—my God, a
king's
ransom! To men of your means, on the other hand, well, pardon my presumption, but it's not a loss of great significance. That fact does not make you feel any better, I know, and in truth is beside the point, since nobody likes to be robbed. Even were I rich as you, I would be furious to be robbed of twenty cents. All the same, these things happen. In any case, both of you must surely agree that five million dollars is a bargain price for ten people.
Ten
. A half million each, six of them your children, three others also blood kin. I suggest you divide the cost between you. After all, half of the party are kin to you, Mr. Belmonte, and although only four of them are related to you, Mr. Sosa, the American girl is your daughter's guest, and that makes you responsible for her. We know she comes from a prosperous family in Texas and has wealthy relatives here in Mexico City, but to involve her people in this affair would only make matters more congested and complicated. That is why you, Mr. Sosa, will pay for the American. Whether you discuss reimbursement with her people afterward is your own affair. Am I clear, sir?

Mr. Sosa nods.

Is there any reason either of you might wish to do otherwise than equally share in the ransom?

The two men shake their heads.

Very well. Now then . . . both of you gentlemen have accounts with Banamex, Santander México, and Bancomer. Neither of you is to get your share of the money from any of those three banks. Mr. Belmonte, you also have accounts with HSBC México and with Banco Rosemonte. You are to withdraw your share of the ransom from Banco Rosemonte. Understood?

Belmonte nods.

Good. As for you, Mr. Sosa, besides the banks in which both you and Mr. Belmonte have accounts, you also have accounts with Banco de Indio Tierra. That is the bank from which you will draw your share of the money. Clear?

Sosa nods.

Good. We have chosen these banks because they are somewhat smaller than the others and your relationships with their officers more intimate, and it should be simpler to gain their prompt cooperation than might be the case at the larger institutions. However, although both banks normally carry more than enough American cash to meet your need, their daily holdings of U.S. currency can vary greatly. It could be that one or even both of the banks may have to request a transfer of dollars from another branch, in which case the procedure may be a protracted one. Even so, you will have ample time to conduct the transactions. You will each drive yourself to your bank and you will each go alone. You will both be watched all the way to and from the bank. Mr. Sosa, you will park as near as possible to the rear doors in order to have easy exit from the bank to your car. Mr. Belmonte, your bank is without parking facility and you will have to walk two blocks from the nearest public lot. More than fifty pounds of money may come to seem quite heavy on the return to the car, but I believe we have established that you can handle it. Is everything still clear so far, gentlemen?

Both men nod.

Very well. The bankers will naturally be most apprehensive about a cash withdrawal of such size, and in American currency. Bankers are not entirely ignorant about these things, and in the absence of a plausible explanation for the withdrawal, they are apt to suspect extortion. It is imperative that you prevent them from acting on such suspicion. This is a crucial point. The best way to ensure that your bankers not contact the authorities is to tell them the truth. But you must impress upon them that your children's safety depends on their discreet cooperation. Is this understood?

BOOK: The House of Wolfe
12.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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