by Cindy L Hull
“I’m sure he does.” Salinas paused. “Does he have a second passport?”
Brad nodded. “He gave his Mexican passport to the police. He also has an American passport.”
“Under what name?”
“I don’t know.”
“So, if he were driving southwest from Merida, would you suggest he might be heading toward Campeche?”
“Yes,” he squeaked. Salinas nodded at Garza, who rose from her seat and left the room. Brad opened the water bottle, lifting it to his mouth, but the liquid splashed over his suit pants. Rosa returned and took her seat.
“Now let’s get back to your relationship with Eduardo Ramirez.”
“We have been friends for many years…”
Salinas interrupted him. “Yes, I have heard the official story. I want to know how you got involved with smuggling artifacts for him.”
“I didn’t smuggle!”
“What did you do for him?”
Brad put his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. The vision returned to him. The two old Mayan men and the dirty white handkerchief.
“Doctor Kingsford?” Salinas paused patiently, giving him time. “We need to know.”
Brad looked at Mr. Morgan, whose face reflected deep concentration, as if he were already trying to prepare a defense for this defenseless creature. “I didn’t smuggle artifacts,” Brad said finally, pulling his hair behind his ears. “I bought and sold them.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I needed money. My wife and I were both pursuing graduate research; hers was at the same university as mine, but she didn’t need to travel. I came to Mexico alone, but my grant ran out, and my wife was sending me money to help me finish.” He pressed his hands on his legs to control their bouncing. “I had hired a local woman, Mercedes, who did my laundry and sometimes cleaned for me. I lost my grant, so I let her go. Even though I didn’t pay her much, I needed to economize.”
Brad wiped his eyes and continued, “One night her husband and father came to my house with a small artifact. Her husband told me that he and Mercedes had a sick child, and they asked me to purchase this artifact from them—it was a small chunk of hieroglyph. They said they knew a man in Motul who would purchase it, but gave them only pennies. I felt obligated, since I had let her go…even though I didn’t want to spend the money, I couldn’t refuse their request.”
“How many times did this happen?” Salinas asked.
“About three or four times over the next six months. The artifacts were small, and I didn’t pay much for them. I didn’t know what do to with them, so I stored them in my suitcase.”
“How did you become involved with Don Benito and Doctor Ramirez?”
Brad took another sip of water, trying to hold the bottle without spilling its contents. “Late one night, the old man came to my house with a small statue of a corn god with jade eyes. It was so beautiful that I couldn’t resist it.” Brad looked at Morgan, then Salinas. “Several months later, Eduardo came to Merida and I visited him here. I showed him my collection and he was very quiet. Then he introduced me to his friend, Don Benito.”
Salinas said, “You became a supplier of artifacts to Eduardo’s middleman, Benito Suarez.”
“Yes.”
“You knew these artifacts were discovered after the 1972 law had gone into effect, and thus illegal.”
“Yes.” Brad pressed his hands on his knees. “But, at first, I was helping a poor family. I didn’t mean to profit.”
“At first,” Salinas repeated. “How many years did you buy and sell for Doctor Ramirez?”
“During my field work…and several times a few years later when I returned to Tixbe for more research. But it destroyed my marriage.”
“How so?”
“My wife learned what I had done and demanded that I tell the authorities what Eduardo was doing. She thought that I could keep out of trouble…after all, technically, I didn’t know what he was doing with the artifacts.”
“But you chose your friend, a thief and smuggler, over your wife?”
“My career would have been ruined.”
“What happened next?”
“My wife left me, but she didn’t tell anyone about what I had done. I finished my doctorate, wrote an ethnography about the rituals and culture of Tixbe, taught in Texas, and eventually was hired as the director of the Mayanist Program at Keane College.” He paused to sip water again. “I tried to put it all behind me.”
“But you couldn’t?”
“I thought I had, until last year. And I brought it on myself. I really wanted the job at KC, and I thought that, with all I had done for Eduardo, I could ask a favor of him.”
“The museum?”
“I was only asking for a commitment for a future loan of artifacts, so I could bring that to the table during my interviews. It wasn’t a big deal. Museums loan items out all the time.”
“What did he say?’
“He said ‘sure, anything for my friend,’ so when I got the job, I called him. A week later, I received a formal letter from his business, Galerías Indíginas, proposing a generous loan of artifacts. It was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Were you suspicious about the origins of these artifacts?”
“Eduardo assured me that they were legal.”
“But you were suspicious?” Salinas paused for Rosa to catch up, then said, “You could have refused the offer.”
“I needed that loan to establish my position in the program. I wanted to show that I could build a successful museum.”
“So, you brought the offer to the faculty members in the program for approval?”
“Yes.”
“Did the question of legitimacy come up in the discussion?”
“It was Madge who brought it up. She doesn’t trust galleries…nor does George.”
“But they agreed to accept the loan.”
“Yes, primarily because it was a loan, not a gift.” He paused again. “But Madge started researching Eduardo’s business behind my back.”
“Is this why you wanted to hire someone else as curator? Someone less…enthusiastic?”
“No…not that.”
“But it seems that perhaps Doctor Carmichael was correct in her suspicions? When Eduardo presented you with the statue, you knew it was the original statue you bought from the village men, all those years ago.” Salinas reached into his briefcase and pulled out the replica that Cody and Paul had purchased from Don Benito. “For days, the original statue sat in the case, archaeologists and other experts walked by admiring the replica…and you knew what it was.”
Brad moaned. “Yes. And then I knew it was a bribe…the whole collection would be tarnished.”
“And you could be linked to him criminally.”
“Yes.”
CHAPTER SIXTY
“Well, let’s talk about Tanya,” Salinas said.
An involuntary groan escaped Brad’s lips.
“You didn’t think I forgot her, did you? Let’s see if my narrative is accurate. Please tell me if I am wrong in any way.”
Brad sat back against the chair. His leg bounced uncontrollably, defying any amount of pressure he placed on it.
“Over the years,” Salinas said, “I have learned that to understand a murder it is important to understand the victims. In the last few days I have learned much about both Paul and Tanya. I never met Mr. Sturgess, but I understand he was an ardent believer in the adage, ‘Knowledge is Power.’ I believe that knowledge resulted in his death. I met Tanya only once, but I have learned that she and Paul had something in common. They both used soft blackmail.” Salinas tented his fingers. “First, she mentioned at breakfast that she saw someone talking to Paul during the day at Uxmal…”
“That was Jamal,” Brad interrupted.
“I just forgot. Who remembers those things?”
“Fair enough,” Salinas said. “But Tanya also saw something odd that evening that didn’t register with her until after Paul’s death. She saw you twice before the program, first at the base of the pyramid as she passed by. Then, with binoculars, she saw you and Eduardo walking away from the pyramid toward the bleachers. When you joined her in the bleachers, Eduardo said something about rescuing you from Laura Lorenzo, but she had seen Laura already in line ahead of her.”
“How do you know this?”
“It seems that, like Paul, she also kept a journal on her computer, and you didn’t get to that one before we did.”
“What does that prove?”
“It proves that you lied.” Salinas checked his notes and the tape recorder. “And Tanya knew you lied, but she didn’t know why. She was intuitive, like Paul. She wrote in her journal that you had pressed the theory that Cody might have killed Paul, and that you seemed most intent he not be hired. She recognized Paul as someone like herself, and she sensed that he had something against you that might help her.” Salinas paused, waiting for a response, but Brad did not speak.
Salinas continued, “I doubt she knew about your illegal activities, but you didn’t know that. She may have suspected that you had something to do with Paul’s death, without knowing your motive. Her brilliant but fateful use of the dagger symbolized what she thought you had done…sacrificed Paul for whatever he might have known about you.”
“That’s crazy!” Brad protested.
Salinas shrugged. “It’s in the computer… in our evidence room…safe.
“I think you felt desperate,” Salinas continued. “She passed the dagger to you as a threat and asked for a meeting. So, you went to her room. Doctor Banks saw two small airport-sized vodka bottles on the dresser. I am not sure what you had planned but, whatever it was, George Banks interrupted you. You noticed she had been taking pills, and you got the idea you might be able to—keep her quiet? Harm her? When you all left for the reception, you pocketed the pill bottle, scooped up the vodka, and contrived some sort of plan. The open bar gave you opportunity to use the pills. I don’t know when you crushed them. Perhaps they had already been crushed, but you somehow got the drink to her. This was very risky.”
Brad protested. “I—did—not—kill—her!”
“Then perhaps you can give me your version. This is your chance, Doctor Kingsford.”
Mr. Morgan, who had not spoken since the meeting began, interrupted, “Do you want that lawyer, Doctor Kinsgford?”
“I’m innocent,” Brad repeated, then held his hands firmly on his thighs. “She did pass me the dagger, and we met in her room.”
Brad paused for a breath. “She told me she saw me kill Paul, but of course she didn’t. If she had seen what happened, she would have known he fell on his own. But the truth wasn’t important to her. She wanted the curatorship. It seemed like such a small favor to her. She didn’t want money, just a job.”
“Like Paul,” Salinas said.
“Yes,” Brad admitted.
“I told her that I couldn’t do it alone, like I told Paul. We have a committee, and besides, George had already crowned Madge queen of the museum before I even arrived on the scene. I didn’t like it, but I had to accept it. Tanya thought I could use my influence on George because of the museum gift. She demanded that I announce at the reception that she would be the curator. It would be a coup for her, and would prick Madge’s bubble besides. She didn’t like Madge, or any of us really. She wanted to be somewhere else, a more prestigious university, and she saw the curatorship as a step up the academic ladder.”
Salinas nodded. “Did you bring the alcohol to her room?”
“Yes. I thought I would offer her a drink and find out what she wanted, but she said she didn’t want it. I saw the bottle of wine and poured two glasses while she went into the bathroom, but she wouldn’t drink that either, so I poured it into the bathroom sink and rinsed out the glasses. I was desperate. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself announcing an appointment I had no intention, or even ability, to make. She took a pill from a prescription bottle just before George arrived, and she perked up when she saw him, and said, ‘This will do me good,’ or something like that. I saw her put the bottle next to her purse on the dresser.”
Brad ran his hand over his face. “George and I both tried to convince her to stay in her room, but she refused. She took her purse and demanded we leave. I took the pill bottle from the dresser. When I put it in my pocket, I realized I had the dagger in there too, but I couldn’t do anything about it with George present.”
Rosa waved her hand and Salinas paused. After a few moments, he said, “So you left together.”
“Yes, but when we got there, I found a quiet spot and opened the plastic bottle. There was just one pill left. I didn’t take it out—I just crushed it in the bottle with my ink pen. Jamal sat at the bar watching Tanya with the other man, and I poured the contents into a drink. I told Jamal that Tanya might want a margarita and pushed the glass toward him. When Tanya came toward the bar, he took the glass to her. I didn’t think it would hurt her. It was just one pill. I just wanted her to leave. I thought if she felt sick enough she would, and I could save myself, and her, from embarrassment.”
“What happened then?” Salinas asked. He looked at his watch.
“I didn’t want to be anywhere near her, so I wandered into the sitting room. A while later, Laura Lorenzo come into the sitting room, and the docent followed her back into the bedchamber. The docent returned and told me that Tanya was resting there. I remembered the pill bottle and the dagger in my pocket and thought I could return the dagger to her, and perhaps get rid of the pill bottle. She was still awake, but before I could give her the dagger Jamal came in and I left.”
“You still had the pill bottle?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do with the dagger?”
“I saw Eduardo sometime later. I passed the dagger to him and asked him to get rid of it for me. He was angry that I had it.”
“When did you put the pill bottle in her purse?”
“I checked on her later, and she looked very bad. I wiped off the pill bottle and put it in her purse. I found it under the blanket.”
“You assumed she was alive?”
“Yes! That is, until the ambulance came. Then I learned she had died, and that someone had stabbed her. I knew that Eduardo was responsible.” He pushed clenched fists into his lap. “She was alive when I saw her last!”
“But you can’t be sure of that. You could have killed her with the drink.”
Brad sobbed. “It was just one pill.” He pressed his quivering lips together. “Eduardo stabbed her with the dagger. He told me.”
Salinas put his notes down. “The coroner agrees, but she was just barely alive when she was stabbed. She might have died anyway.”
Brad’s eyes widened in horror. “That can’t be true!”
Salinas said, “I am afraid that you will be arrested for attempted murder of Tanya, and an open murder charge for the death of Paul Sturgess. You will need that lawyer after all, and you will have to convince a very skeptical judge you did not push Mr. Sturgess off the pyramid. You have a very difficult time ahead, my friend.”
Brad couldn’t control the shaking in his hands or his legs. “I didn’t kill the old man either,” he said pathetically.
“I know,” Salinas said. “Eduardo did. But we don’t know where he is.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
“Campeche?” Claire exclaimed.
As she spoke, the phone rang again and Madge answered it, peering up at Claire as she saw the name and number pop up on the s
creen. “Hello? Bueno?” She covered the receiver with her hand and tried to hand it to Claire. “It’s your boyfriend,” she whispered.
“I can’t take it, Madge.” The thoroughfare had widened, and Claire struggled to keep up with Eduardo as he sped along the highway.
“She’s driving,” Madge said. She listened for a few moments. “Repeat please. We have poor service here.” She nodded as she understood his side of the conversation. “He passed the airport. We’re still following him.” She listened again and whispered to Claire, “He’s yelling at me.”
Claire grimaced and passed a pickup truck piled high with cement blocks. Madge’s eyes grew wide as Claire blew past the truck. Madge was listening to what Claire assumed was a tirade from the detective. Finally, she said, “We’re in Claire’s rental Volkswagen…hmm…yes, the red one.” She listened more, then hung up.
“What did he say?”
“He said next time rent a white Ford.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “And what else?”
“Keep following him, but not too close. Someone will call back when the police have him in their sights.”
They followed Eduardo through Uman, a colonial city that reminded Claire of Motul. They skirted the central plaza, past the market and through a residential area. Eduardo’s clean white SUV contrasted sharply with the old, rusted cars driven by most of the locals.
Just beyond Uman, Eduardo stopped at a Pemex gas station. Claire parked in front of a small roadside refresquería across the street and watched as the gas station attendant filled his tank. He opened his window and yelled at the young boy attempting to clean his windshield, handed the attendant a bill and pulled away. Claire waited until he had merged into traffic and pulled into the gas station. She understood Eduardo’s impatience as she waited for the attendant to fill the small tank. She waved away the young boy with the squeegee, paid the attendant and rushed back into traffic.
They caught up with Eduardo just north of the town of Chochula, where he was tailgating a pickup truck with ten adults and children bouncing around the truck bed. Claire slowed down to put distance between them. The phone rang and Madge answered.
