The Hidden Light of Mexico City

by Carmen Amato

  Eddo studied the printout, too tired to focus very well. The page showed about 40 postings in reverse date order, each showing the userid of the sender. The latest posting was only a few hours old. Several of them referred to activity taking place at Site 1 or Site 2. More recently, a Site 3 was mentioned. There was only one reference to a Site 4, which appeared to be a place all the userids had met. “What are these different sites they’re talking about?”

  Tomás shrugged.

  Eddo took off his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d made the trip back from Anahuac in 18 hours, stopping only to piss and get gas and leave Sonia in a rehabilitation center in San Luis Potosi. Vasco and Tomás had met him at the safe house with Miguel. Diego was there, too, a tough young Highway Patrol cop who was one of the regular Saturday soccer players. Diego didn’t know shit about computers or money laundering but he was loyal as hell.

  “You call Luz de Maria yet?” Tomás asked.

  “No,” Eddo said. Eventually he had to tell his friend that he wasn’t seeing Luz, that he’d been wrong about her, but tonight wasn’t the night.

  “Look.” Tomás reached across the table and shook Eddo’s shoulder. “That Sonia woman is going to be all right.”

  “I didn’t save any kids.” Eddo pushed away his cup of cold coffee.

  “What?”

  “Ran into a coyote.” Eddo wondered tiredly what would have happened if he’d gone to the house behind the church of Santa Agneta. “Asked if I had kids and told me to meet him with them the next day.”

  Tomás’s face darkened. “Selling kids?”

  “Probably.” Eddo caught the edge in Tomás’s voice and wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Kids were a sore subject with Tomás; Ana wanted to start a family but Tomás was reluctant. Too many risks involved in police work.

  Tomás got up and collected the takeout trash from the table. He took it into the kitchen and reappeared empty-handed just as Vasco, Miguel, and Diego burst into the dining room.

  “Miguel found an address for Hermanos Hospitality,” Vasco said excitedly

  Eddo sat up “So?”

  “Same address as Hotel Arias,” Vasco said. “Lorena’s sex palace in the Centro Histórico.”

  “Fuck,” Tomás said.

  Eddo rubbed his eyes, willing his brain to make the connection hovering just on the edge of his understanding. “Could the hotel be one of the sites they’re talking about?”

  “Hard to know.” Miguel slid into the chair next to Vasco, the young man puffed with importance at his latest find. Diego lounged against the edge of the table.

  “So a connection between Hugo and the Arias family,” Eddo said slowly. “And El Toro.”

  “And Panama,” Vasco said.

  “Montopa,” Eddo said. “Ideas for next steps?”

  “I say we start at the end of the trail and work backwards,” Tomás said. “A good look at Hermanos Hospitality and the Hotel Arias.”

  Eddo nodded. He watched as the other four men planned surveillance on the Hotel Arias, the two younger ones visibly excited at the prospect. Eddo felt a certain uneasiness that Miguel and Diego were learning about the tie to Hugo, but he was too tired to think of an alternate plan.

  He got up and made his way upstairs to one of the bedrooms. Anahuac had been bad, but at least he’d found something useful. The flash drive found in the Army raid had shown five userids. If Sonia was BppBB16003 and Hugo was Hh23051955, only three userids were still unidentified. When Eddo wasn’t so tired he’d read all the postings and sort out the information in his mind but already the references to various sites stood out. If they could figure out where the sites actually were maybe they could catch Hugo in the act. Betancourt could hardly keep stalling then.

  Ana had put an old pine spool bed in the biggest bedroom and Eddo fell onto it, not bothering to take off his clothes. He stared up at the ceiling, drained but sleepless, and his mind tumbled back to that night with Luz. Her body in his bed, her skin warm against his own. As if it had been yesterday, he remembered the curve of her cheekbone, the taste of the nape of her neck, the way her hair spilled over the pillow like lush, heavy linen.

  It hurt all over again, but at least the hurt told him he still had something inside. He wasn’t a dead man just yet.

  '

  Eddo spent the next morning in the office, reviewing the status of cases with Conchita Félix Pacheco. She was a tiny thing in a designer suit and sleek ponytail, full of ambition and fire. On a personal level she was exhausting, but on a professional level she was the best investigative attorney he had.

  They wrapped up before lunch and Conchita gathered the folders from the credenza. “You haven’t forgotten about the Young Attorneys Association?” she asked.

  “Friday at three, right?”

  She nodded, pleased that he’d remembered, and left.

  Eddo worked for a few more hours, going over the figures in a fraud case, then closed down his computer and headed out.

  Luis Yanez Luna worked out at a gym in one of the big hotels near the glorieta Christóbal Colón, the roundabout anchored by the huge statue of Columbus. The hotel parking garage was equipped with security cameras, so Eddo parked a few blocks away and walked through the lobby with his gym bag, flashing a room card at the uniformed hotel doorman as he passed.

  The room card got him into the executive locker room by the spa and gym. There was no one else there, just as he expected, except for the attendant, an older man who handed out towels and kept the spacious locker room clean.

  “I’m a guest of Señor Yanez Luna,” Eddo said, slipping the man 200 pesos. “We’d like privacy.

  It took the old man a few beats to get the message. Eddo smiled and widened his eyes and the attendant left the locker room.

  Luis reserved the entire gym twice a week at this time, working out alone as his bodyguard waited outside. Eddo grinned to himself as he wondered if the small fortune Luis was paying for the private gym time included discretion as well. If not, Vasco would probably be the first to hear the new rumor about the head of Financial.

  Eddo changed from his suit into workout gear and stowed his clothes in a locker.

  The gym was modern and over-decorated. Two walls were tiled to resemble ocean waves and the other two walls were mirrored, so that patrons could watch themselves get seasick as they worked out. The machines were the latest in chrome, with placards by each one giving directions how to use it.

  A small room off the main gym was for serious weightlifters, with a bench, free weights, and a heavy bar with interchangeable weight plates. Eddo went in there and turned on the light. More tiled waves encircled the room. If he stood in the near corner he could see the glass doors leading into the spa and gym area as well as the locker room door.

  After a few minutes he saw Luis and his bodyguard get off the elevator. Luis went into the locker room. The bodyguard, a beefy type in a dark suit, stationed himself outside the glass door leading to the gym. In about five minutes Federal cops were going to appear and start asking the bodyguard about his carry permit.

  Luis, wearing a sleeveless black tee shirt and basketball shorts, came out of the locker room and stretched. Eddo pressed himself into the far wall. Luis realized that there was a light on in the weight room and approached.

  Eddo stepped away from the wall. “Hello, Luis.”

  “Eddo?” Luis blinked. “When did you get back? Why didn’t you call?”

  Eddo moved fast, pinning Luis’s right arm behind him with one hand and closing the weight room door with the other. A shove with his shoulder and Luis’s face slammed into the tiled wall. Eddo’s cross trainer kicked apart the other man’s feet. Feet spread and dick against a wall made most men feel vulnerable.

  “What the fuck?” Luis’s voice was tight.

  “Your man in Anahuac,” Eddo said softly, his face close to Luis’s. “Turned out to be rotten and I’m wondering how far up it goes.”

  “What are you talking about
?” Luis grimaced from the pain of his arm twisted behind him.

  “Sotos Bild. The man you hand picked nearly got me killed.”

  “What?”

  “Your man sold out the investigation,” Eddo snarled, remembering the violence that had poured over the street in Anahuac. “He knew just who to call. Funny part was, once he’d delivered the bank they didn’t need him. He’s in the already overcrowded morgue up there.”

  “He’s dead?”

  Eddo jabbed a knee into Luis’s ass, shoving the man’s crotch hard against the tiled wall and ignoring the resulting sob of pain. “You said he was taking orders straight from you. Nobody else was supposed to be involved.”

  “Eddo,” Luis breathed into the wall. “I swear. I didn’t set you up. We’re friends. Sotos Bild was my best man up there.”

  “When things went down in the street, somebody came after me.” Eddo yanked Luis forward then smashed him back against the wall. “Was that the plan? Take me out so this investigation could disappear?”

  “I swear.” Luis wasn’t nearly as strong. His attempt to pull away made another landing against the wall that much more painful.

  “Who are you working for?” Eddo demanded. “The Zetas? El Chapo? Get Sotos Bild to deliver the bank and you’d split the commission? Or El Toro? Make it looked like the bank closed so we’d drop the investigation? How much were they going to pay you?”

  “Nothing,” Luis gasped. “I told the kid the cover story and the instructions just like we agreed. Did he get the codes?”

  “No codes but you weren’t really expecting any, were you?” Eddo knew Luis hadn’t been this roughly handled since grade school. He gave the man’s twisted arm an upward shove as his knee kept up the pressure. “You gave Sotos Bild my name? My true name?”

  “No, no.” The wall tiles were wet from the spit dribbling from Luis’s mouth and the tears of pain rolling down his cheeks. “Come on, let me go.”

  Eddo hauled Luis away from the wall and threw him down on the weight bench.

  Luis held his arm, his expression a mixture of pain and fear. “Sotos was a good kid,” he said huskily. One side of his face bore the imprint of tiny squares and his hair was disheveled. “He was plugged into a lot of stuff going on up there. Knew who the players were. If he tried to cut a deal it was his doing. Not mine.”

  “And he’s not here to say otherwise.”

  “He had his orders from me and it was exactly what you and I had agreed on.” Luis wiped his mouth.

  “You think I’m just going to believe that?”

  “I’ll give you his files,” Luis said. “Everything he was working on.”

  Eddo stood between the door and the weight bench, stomach tight and muscles taut. He’d only told Luis that Banco Limitado was a cartel bank and had omitted the link to Hugo, but couldn’t be sure that Betancourt hadn’t said anything. Either way, it was hard to know if Luis was clean or not.

  Luis dropped his head and rubbed his eyes.

  “I’m going to finish this investigation,” Eddo finally said, his voice low. “You’re going to give me everything you’ve got and then Financial’s out. I may step on your toes, I may foul up something else you’re working on. Nobody’s going to give a shit. Get in my way and I’ll put you down, whether you were pulling Sotos Bild’s strings or not.”

  “I swear, Eddo,” Luis started again but then he saw Eddo’s face and stopped. They stared at each other until Luis blinked. He looked away and attempted a half smile. “It just fucking never ends, does it?”

  Eddo went into the main gym, fired up a treadmill, and started running fast. Luis shuffled into the locker room, stayed a few minutes, and then came out wearing street clothes. He pushed through the glass doors. The two cops with the bodyguard smiled and nodded and moved off. Luis and the bodyguard got into the elevator.

  The reserved time period was over and people drifted into the gym. Eddo dressed and left. He passed Diego in the lobby sipping a cup of coffee and reading a copy of El Universal. They didn’t acknowledge each other. Eddo knew that within the hour a name would check out of an executive level room and the key he’d used would no longer work.

  The next morning there was a package waiting for him in the office. Notes from Sotos Bild’s current investigations.

  Most of it was shit.

  At noon, after he’d paced a dozen miles, he called Conchita into his office and asked her to open a classified investigation into Luis Yanez Luna. No one else would know about the investigation, she would have no assistant to help her, and any leak would be highly dangerous. He told her what happened in Anahuac and gave her Vasco’s contact information. He also gave her Sotos Bild’s phones, the extra SIM card and everything Miguel had found out about it, as well as information about the four extra Banco Limitado accounts. He had a hunch, he said.

  For her own protection, he didn’t give Conchita anything connected to Hugo. The CD from the central bank and the list of userids stayed in his office safe, hidden inside the cabinet with the clay smeared across the keyhole.

  Chapter 30

  Señora Vega was deep in the throes of Christmas and New Year party planning and sharp-tongued with stress. Francesca pouted about needing new clothes for the family’s January trip to France. Alejandro managed to squeeze Luz’s breast one morning as she handed him his lunch. Luz was glad to escape onto the bus for the four hour trek to Soledad de Doblado on Friday even if it was the dreaded penance weekend.

  Maria was ironing in the kitchen. Luz kissed her mother and put down her backpack, ready to take over when Maria pointed wordlessly at a yellow postal notice on the table.

  It was a long walk to the post office and Luz was scared every step of the way. After waiting in line for almost half an hour she presented the notice and her identification card to the man behind the counter. He handed her a white envelope with an eagle and an address printed on the upper left hand corner.

  When she got back to the house, Juan Pablo and the girls were home from school and Lupe was back from the craft afternoon at Santa Clara. They were all sitting around the table looking like ghosts. Lupe put down her crochet hook. Maria unplugged the iron. Juan Pablo folded his arms and stared doggedly at the wall.

  Luz opened the envelope and drew out a single sheet of paper. It was very stiff and very clean. She read that she had not been granted a visa but that she was free to apply again after six weeks from the date of the letter. No reason for the denial of the visa was given.

  Luz looked at her mother and shook her head. She pushed the letter to the center of the table and left the house.

  She walked blindly through the barrio. As the sun went down, Luz found herself near the church. The gate was open and she walked around the gravel path to the cemetery.

  Luz brushed some dried leaves off her father’s grave. I’ve made a mess of things, Papa, she thought. And I’m trapped in it. She squatted by the tombstone until her legs got stiff and then she slumped onto the nearby bench, feeling empty and sad.

  She’d wasted her family’s money, still had no way to pay for the new baby and college for Juan Pablo, and her penance loomed like a death sentence. On Sunday she’d take the morning bus back to Mexico City and be at Eddo’s apartment by early afternoon.

  “Hi.”

  It was Juan Pablo. He had on his big school sweatshirt. His hands were jammed into the kangaroo pocket.

  “Are you talking to me now?” Luz asked.

  “I was an idiot.” Juan Pablo settled onto the bench next to her. “I’m sorry.”

  Luz didn’t reply.

  He nudged her arm with his elbow. “So I guess you’re going to stick around some?”

  “I guess.” Luz pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her fingers. Some crickets chirped, but soon it would be too cold for them.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get it,” Juan Pablo said, slouching so that their shoulders were level.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I’m trying to be.”
>
  “You know why I wanted to go?” Luz jerked toward him. “If I went to New York City I could be something more than a muchacha. Work someplace where I’m not invisible. Go to art school, be a real painter. You can do that there. But here, once you’re a muchacha, that’s all you ever are. It’s what you are forever and you can never want more.”

  “Luz--.”

  “Sometimes I hate being a muchacha so much I think I might smash every dish in that maldita house.” Luz’s sadness spilled over. “Do you know what I’m most afraid of? That time will stop someday as I’m scrubbing a toilet and I’ll be stuck in that same moment for the rest of my life. On my knees scrubbing--.”

  “Here’s the deal,” Juan Pablo cut in loudly. “I finish Santa Catalina and you stop talking about college. Or I quit Santa Catalina and you stop talking about college. Your choice.”

  Luz made a hiccupping noise.

  “We’re not going to talk about college any more,” Juan Pablo said. “When I graduate I’m getting a job. You can quit. It’ll be my turn.”

  “No,” Luz begged. “I want you to become licenciado.”

  “Stop it, Luz,” Juan Pablo said. “We’re done talking about this.”

  “No. You’re so smart--.”

  “Stop it.” Juan Pablo’s voice was harsh and flat. “We both know it’s not going to happen. Getting me through Santa Catalina was a miracle and I’m grateful. But that’s enough.”

  “Dios mio.” Luz realized his jaw was set. “You’re hard as nails, aren’t you?”

  “We’ll manage, Luz,” Juan Pablo said.

  Chapter 31

  His talk at the Young Attorneys Association meeting at the Hotel Franco in Polanco had gone well. Despite being a Friday, there was a full house. Conchita had introduced him, referring to notable investigations that were now public knowledge, and everyone asked questions. Eddo had loosened his tie and put Hugo and the scenes from Anahuac out of his mind. He’d even gotten the crowd laughing a couple of times.