by Carmen Amato
“This thing is huge,” Tomás marveled. “Is that a fucking pool?”
“Think about it,” Vasco said. “He’s tooling around on his yacht while his thugs, working from what Miguel gave them, try and find you. But you’re already in Panama checking out Montopa so they’re not having much luck. Miguel leads them to Luz. They snatch her and end up talking to Tomás who makes the arrangements for a meet in Panama City.”
“So for Gomez Mazzo to do the meet in Panama City,” Eddo mused, recalling his geography. Panama City was on the Pacific side of the narrow isthmus. “The Sheba had to go through the canal. That meant it was somewhere in the Caribbean.”
“So where’s the damn boat now?” Tomás demanded. “It’s not like a boat that big can hide, right?”
Eddo puffed thoughtfully on his cigar. “If Gomez Mazzo lives on the boat, who’s keeping the drugs moving in El Toro territory?”
“A very trusted lieutenant?” Vasco surmised.
“But they have to meet now and then.” Eddo leaned forward. “Maybe that’s what the references to sites were in the postings.”
Tomás looked grim. “I’m almost afraid to ask where you’re going with this.”
This could work. Gomez Mazzo’s pride would be his undoing. Eddo felt a prickle of excitement. He pointed at Tomás, then at Vasco. “We figure out every marina within, say, five days sailing time from Panama City that can handle a yacht that big. And we put somebody we can trust in every location.”
“And if we’re wrong?” Tomás asked.
“If they don’t find the boat,” Eddo went on. “We use one of the userids to send a posting calling for a meeting at Site 4. That’s where they met before. The website is still there although it looks as if Hugo is the only one posting.”
“You think the rest of them are still live?” Tomás asked. “Despite the end of Banco Limitado?”
“So we follow Hugo,” Vasco offered.
Tomas shook his head. “He’s holed up in Monterrey. If he buys an airline ticket we won’t find out where he’s going until he checks in for the flight.”
Eddo nodded. “We could end up being a day behind him, at least.”
“So we’re gambling that we’ll find the boat,” Vasco said.
“Site 4 is someplace he docks it.” Eddo stood up and paced the living room, his thoughts racing too fast for him to stay seated. Between this and the plan he’d cooked up driving back from San Miguel his brain was on fire. “Someplace he can show off his shit to Hugo. I bet they’ve each been trying to be top dog ever since their arrangement started.”
“Good point,” said Tomás. “Gomez Mazzo wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to rub Hugo’s face in it.”
“What about Sonia?” Vasco asked. “Would she know where it is?”
“I’ll ask her,” Eddo said. She was still in San Luis Potosi and he called now and then. She still thought he was Reynoldo.
“If we do it we’re on our own,” Tomás said. He got out a bottle of brandy and poured them each a measure. “Maybe bring in Ramirez, the army guy who made the raid on Hugo’s operation. He’s got his shit together. But no Financial crap this time.”
“Madre de Dios, you’re a genius.” Eddo said and came back to his seat. How many times had he sat around a table talking to these two men, planning, arguing, strategizing, bouncing ideas off each other, making something happen. “We set up a meeting, the El Toro leadership comes. Army makes a big sweep while the leadership is otherwise occupied.”
“Nice.” Vasco blew a celebratory smoke ring.
“Thank you, thank you.” Tomás made a little seated bow to both colleagues.
“We got enough good guys to send to these places?” Eddo asked. “Everything going okay?”
Vasco and Tomás were handling Los Hierros without him now. They’d all known Eddo would have to ease away from the group once he officially joined the Romero presidential campaign.
“One good cop at a time,” Vasco said. “We got enough.”
“Enough to do this in two months?”
“What happens in two months?”
“When Luz and I were in San Miguel,” Eddo said. “I asked her to marry me. But I’d like to have Hugo and that fucker in jail first.”
Vasco made a gurgling sound and Tomás nearly swallowed his cigar. Eddo left them both coughing and went upstairs to see if Ana could help him out with the other thing.
Chapter 67
Luz got home after Martina and Sophia had gone to bed. Juan Pablo and Lupe had gotten her message and nothing special had happened while she was away. Luz told them everything over cups of manzanilla tea at the kitchen table. Juan Pablo especially wanted a lot of explanation, but his expression softened as Luz told how she’d been mistaken in thinking that Eddo was dead. Everyone was excited to hear how much she’d made at Jardin del Arte and about the contract from The Ralston Gallery. News that a security service would be guarding the house was met with raised eyebrows from Juan Pablo.
“I have to go upstairs now, Luz,” Lupe said. She made to stand and fell heavily against the edge of the table.
Luz was shocked to see bright red blood streaming down her sister’s leg.
“What’s the matter?” Juan Pablo asked.
Luz found her voice. “Help me get Lupe to the sofa,” she said urgently. “Then get Carmelita and Señor Rosales to come with his truck.”
They made Lupe as comfortable as possible. Juan Pablo sprinted out of the house. Luz got some wet cloths and tried to staunch the steady flow of blood.
“Are we going to the hospital, Luz?” Lupe whispered. Her face was paper-white.
“Yes,” Luz said, hoping she didn’t sound as panicked as she felt.
“Tell Armando.”
Luz blinked. Tío. Of course.
By the time they got Lupe to the hospital she was unconscious. Luz and Juan Pablo waited for hours until a nurse came to tell them that Lupe’s uterus had ruptured. The baby was dead and they’d had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. Lupe would be in the hospital for at least a week. They’d be allowed to see her the next day.
After a few hours of restless sleep Luz went over to the Rosales’ house. Carmelita set out coffee at the kitchen table and Luz told her about the week in San Miguel and the night at the hospital.
“I feel awful.” Luz wound up her story. “Lupe must have been feeling bad for days. What if I hadn’t come back yesterday but stayed another day? She might have died.”
“How were you supposed to know?” Carmelita stirred her coffee. Her clothes were old but tasteful and neatly pressed.
“I shouldn’t have gone.” Luz sipped. The coffee was nice and strong. She’d probably be hysterical with caffeine and remorse by noon.
“Lupe is going to recover, Luz.” Carmelita squeezed Luz’s arm. “Tell me about this guy.”
“I love him,” Luz said miserably.
“People in love are usually happier,” Carmelita said.
“He asked me to marry him,” Luz said. Carmelita’s face lit but Luz held up a hand. “I said I’d give him an answer after Juan Pablo’s graduation but I don’t know what I was thinking. I can’t leave Lupe and the girls.” And too many people think I’m his puta.
“You don’t have to decide today,” Carmelita said.
Luz shrugged. “Today or tomorrow, it doesn’t matter. I can’t just dump everything on Juan Pablo. He needs to have a life of his own.”
“So does this man have a name?” Carmelita looked at her over the rim of her cup.
Luz took a deep breath. “Eddo is . . . not mestizo. His name is Cortez Castillo and he works for Arturo Romero. That Arturo Romero.”
Carmelita grinned and put down her cup. “Really? This is like a telenovela, Luz!”
There was a clatter of footsteps on the tile floor and Martina and Sophia rushed in with Carmelita’s daughters. “Tía Luz! Tía Luz!”
“Hey there.” She kissed her nieces and was thoroughly strangled with hugs and wet smack
s from both girls who’d stayed with the Rosales’ overnight.
“Carmelita said there’s not going to be a new baby,” Sophia murmured.
“I know,” Luz said.
“Do you think the new baby is with Abuela?” Sophia climbed up into Luz’s lap. “And Father Santiago? And your friend?”
“My friend didn’t die, Sophia,” Luz said. “I made a mistake. But the baby is an angel now.” She hugged the little girl as Carmelita put out a dish of cookies. “Did you have a fun time?”
Martina bobbed her head around a cookie. “Carmelita let us watch lots of cartoons. We made dolls out of towels and she said we could take them home.”
“We’re supposed to have your birthday party today,” Sophia said plaintively.
Luz gulped. She’d forgotten about the plan to celebrate her birthday a week late.
“We’ll all go to church together,” Carmelita said. “Afterwards we’ll get a cake and celebrate Tía Luz’s birthday.”
“What about Mama?” Martina asked.
“We’ll save a special piece for her. One with a rose on it,” Carmelita said firmly. “When the doctor says she can have it we’ll bring it to the hospital and have another party all over again.”
“Oooh,” Sophia breathed. “A party in a hospital.”
“Thank you,” Luz mouthed over the girls’ heads to Carmelita. Sophia scrambled down and Luz nearly started bawling about Lupe and the baby that was an angel and the fact that she wouldn’t ever marry Eduardo Martín Bernardo Cortez Castillo.
'
Lupe came home the following week, pale and wan and teary. Tío rang the bell the next night. Luz let him in, sick at heart to think her sister had taken up with such a useless man. When he left Lupe gave Luz a watery smile. The two sisters had an awkward conversation about Tío that lapsed into a silent stalemate.
The wonderful new cell phone became Luz’s lifeline. Eddo’s days were busy but they texted each other several times a day and he called every night.
They talked about everything except the answer that she would give him when the countdown reached zero. The only awkward moment came when he asked her to go to Maria Elena Romero’s wedding before the 63 days were up. Luz immediately refused; the Romero wedding would be the social event of the year and she wasn’t ready to confront something that big. Eddo countered with a despedida--a farewell party--for some of the campaign staff the same weekend she was to meet him in Mexico City. Luz reluctantly agreed to go, loath to refuse him twice.
She read voraciously to keep up with him, splurging on newspapers and magazines, and finding news and books on her cell phone, too. Eddo was sure that Elaine Ralston was going to want more canvases and so a corner of what Luz still thought of as her mother’s bedroom became an art studio with the contract taped to the wall above a makeshift easel. Her latest notebook bulged with interesting art news and at last there was money to buy whatever supplies she wanted.
Eddo told her about PAN politics and developments with Romero’s campaign strategy and read her bits of the book he was working on. Luz challenged him to think about new ideas and let him know what people in the streets were saying about Romero. He laughed at her jokes and discussed the things she wanted to paint and the photographs she took with her phone. They never ran out of things to say and Luz’s wonderful cell phone never ran out of minutes.
Before Luz realized it, more than a month had flown by.
One afternoon she impulsively dialed Rosa’s old cell phone number.
“Rosa? It’s me, Luz de Maria.”
“Luz?” Rosa sounded flabbergasted. “I can’t believe it! Where are you?”
“I’m in Soledad de Doblado. I went home and stayed there.”
“Oh, Luz, I’m so glad to hear from you.” Rosa was her same bubbly self. “It’s been so long.”
“I know.”
“Are you all right? Hector said you were in rough shape.”
“I was, but I’m fine now. What about you?”
“I got fired after you left. Señora Vega kicked me right out of the house.” Rosa made it sound like she’d had a fun day at La Feria.
“Why?” Luz asked.
“She caught me with Alejandro.” Rosa giggled. “It was funny. He told her to get out and kept on going.”
“Rosa!”
“So I’m back in Cholula,” Rosa sighed. “It’s really boring here.”
“Are you working?”
“No. I’ve got my finiquito. And I’m going to have a baby.”
Luz closed her eyes. “Alejandro’s?”
“I doubt it,” Rosa said and giggled again. “Probably Manuel. Or maybe Domingo.”
Luz leaned back in her chair and heard all about Rosa’s latest boyfriend. He had an even better job than Manuel. Domingo sold lottery tickets on the main street in Cholula, the one with the alabaster sidewalk.
Chapter 68
Eddo stared at the yellow legal pad in front of him. He’d made a column for each userid and copied down their postings and the dates, trying to find a pattern that would reveal their true identities. Of course Hh23051955 was Hugo. The last posting was his, asking why Site 1 was offline. It was two weeks old. No other userid had posted since then, as if no one was talking to Hugo any more.
Sonia’s userid, BppBB16003, hadn’t posted since the raid in Anahuac.
The remaining three userids had been silent since shortly after the deal with Gomez Mazzo in Panama, suggesting that they all worked for El Toro and that the cartel leader was sticking to the deal. Two used the same password as Sonia: 1612colcol and CH5299xyz9. Logging into the postings page as either of the two userids had revealed nothing more.
Even more so than the identities of the three outstanding userids, Eddo was intrigued by the four sites referred to in the postings. The only one he’d been able to identify was Site 1, which was the drug muling operation they’d shut down in the desert outside Anahuac. The references to “7s” now made grim sense.
Each of the three mystery userids had mentioned Site 2 or 3 at one time or another. 44Gg449M11, which used an unknown password, had posted that Site 2 was interrupted but then operating again. CH5299xyz9, the userid with the fewest number of postings, had mentioned a team going to Site 3. 1612colcol usually posted about receiving shipments but had posted that the team could not return to Site 3. Sites 2 and 3 could be Banco Limitado and Hermanos Hospitality, but it was hard to tell which was which.
Site 4 was a complete unknown. Only 44Gg449M11 had ever mentioned it, with a posting that announced a meeting at Site 4 in five days. Sonia had claimed she hadn’t gone and didn’t know where it was, which meant the invitation wasn’t for all the userids. Eddo wondered if Hugo had gone.
“Eduardo?”
He jerked up his head to find everyone around the conference table staring at him. “Uh, sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Didn’t catch that last one.”
Matilda Paredes, Arturo Romero’s public relations director, passed him a note. “The Elsa Caso show, in two weeks.”
Eddo put down his pen. “What?”
“The Elsa Caso Show.” Matilda was young, with bouncy brown hair and a degree in something that wasn’t even a major when he’d been to college. “You’re booked as the serious guest.”
“You’re sure?” Eddo asked, looking around the conference table at the campaign’s inner circle. Arturo grinned. Almost a smirk. Eddo pretended not to see.
“Highest ranked talk show in the country,” said Nestor Solis. The campaign manager often complained that corralling Eddo was the reason his hair had all fallen out. Nestor, a noted international labor lawyer, had worked with Arturo for over 20 years and had been bald the entire time. But the joke, with its undertone of truth, always got laughs. “Just keep it simple. The legal reform platform and your book. The manuscript looks fantastic, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Eddo said with a weak smile. The book had come together fast, with Eddo writing at night in his hotel room, trying to make the concepts si
mple, gathering together everything he’d ever thought or previously written about the need for an independent judiciary system, open trials, and training for cops and prosecutors on rules of evidence. Luz had been a great sounding board. The manuscript was getting positive reviews from everyone who’d seen the proofs. But, Madre de Dios, Elsa’s show was the last place he would have picked to launch it.
Arturo moved the meeting to the next agenda item, which was the campaign’s move to Mexico City right after his daughter’s wedding. They all chuckled when he warned them not to expect much better than what they had. The Romero campaign headquarters in Oaxaca was the short-term rental of a former newspaper office, furniture and all. The space was chopped up into cubicles and even the conference room walls were just fabric partitions. The campaign had brought in computers and whiteboards but that was about it. Eddo liked the way Nestor was carefully spending campaign funds. Glamorous accommodations weren’t high on his list.
For the most part, Arturo’s team was made up of people who balanced idealism and practicality. They truly believed they could make an impact on the country and had enough experience to make it happen. Eddo felt comfortable in the group, although he missed the deep camaraderie of Los Hierros. In addition to himself, Matilda and Nestor, Arturo’s inner circle was made up of Felipe Galindo Moya, who was in charge of domestic policy issues; and Salvador Becerra, their foreign policy expert.
Felipe briefed next on the domestic platform and the meeting got down to serious business. It was nearly 7:00 pm before they finalized the plan. Arturo, Nestor, and Matilda were all pleased. Felipe was ecstatic. Eddo was proud of the role he’d played. He’d given credit where credit was due, of course, and that made their reactions all that much better.
Before everyone scattered, Nestor reminded them to keep an eye out for fresh talent. Not all the staff in Oaxaca would move to Mexico City and they’d need to hire some new blood to replace those who weren’t going.
