Has the señora arrived? She postponed the meeting until eight o’clock. Oh, thank you, is everything alright? Yes, señor. Good, we’ll see you a little later, and he headed back to his room on the third floor next to the elevator. The men continued their quiet conversation.
*
At the beach, Samantha and Mariana took off their shoes so they could walk freely. The sun in its final splendour and the cool breeze lifted their spirits. Several tourists were doing the same. A few young gringos were smoking marijuana and reading Allen Ginsberg out loud (“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked . . .”) sprawled on the sand holding glasses of tequila with Coke. Hour 33, when everything is a mirror. Are you going to the meeting? You know, I feel like sending Max; those guys, when they don’t wear me out they get on my nerves, besides, they only sent their deputies and I need to speak with my son. I think you ought to attend the meetings until they all understand you’re the boss and they can’t push you around; you can talk to César before you go. You are a good adviser, Mariana, who would have thought. I know you like power, it makes you feel special, even unique, and happier; well, I want you to have that and enjoy it; the time will come, like it did for your father, when you can send a deputy. Suppose I send you? Oh no, I’ll just stand at your side; before I forget, Devil Urquídez is getting married today, and his present is on its way, just how you wanted it: the keys to a house in La Primavera; he’ll get them when they leave La Lomita where the wedding is taking place in . . . half an hour more or less. He’s a good boy, that Devil. And very Catholic.
A few metres behind them, Max Garcés kept a close watch, the women’s shoes in one hand. Without relaxing his surveillance of the entire terrain, he was revelling in the fine weather. He had been born in the mountains and the sea was always a discovery. His men moved strategically, a few walking in the shallow water, others on the beach and seven on the golf course. Protecting Samantha Valdés was his life, and all his men were prepared to give their lives for her.
At sixteen minutes to seven, before darkness set in, they turned back. Samantha and Mariana walked in sync, their arms around each other. They were planning out their lives, the year to come, a vacation. La Jefa was aloof, she liked to live each day as if it were her last. Mariana in contrast loved to project into the future. One of her dreams was to build a rehabilitation centre for children with cancer and Samantha told her yes, when they got back to Culiacán they would look for a lot to build on and in a year it would be up and running. We’ll have Leo McGiver get the equipment in the United States. That is wonderful, truly; on another topic, I think it’s time you called your son and then off to your date. You think of everything. Am I not the adviser-in-chief? Will you go with me? No, I’ll stick with Sor Juana, and I’m going to call your mother’s house to see how Luigi’s doing, poor guy, he looked so sad. That dog is like a son to you.
They entered the hotel, which was draped in Christmas lights. She had less than an hour to dress for the part.
A window eased open when they were seen arriving. Most of the attendees were in Hyena Wong’s room: calm, confident, amused, they knew the meeting would be over quickly and then on to bigger and better things, since where there’s smoke, there’s fire.
From his room, feeling fairly nauseous, Ugarte watched the women, then closed his eyes.
Eleven
They were having breakfast at the Miró, huevos à la Leonor, when Mendieta’s cell phone rang: it was Trudis. What’s the story, Lefty, did you fall out of bed? Work, Trudis, you know how hard we work to make sure everyone can live their lives in safety. You don’t say, give that bone to another dog, have you seen the newspaper? eighteen bodies all across the state, more than where the Taliban are; are you coming home for breakfast? Not this time. Are you going to leave young Jason by himself? You have breakfast with him, we’re in the middle of an operation. I’d better put him on. Hi. How are you this morning? Fine, you’re the ones who were up all night, I got home before Mama. We had a lot to talk about. I thought so, I brought your car back. Do you need it today? If you’ll lend it to me, yes. Go ahead, give me your mother’s number. She was sleeping when I left. I’ll call her in a couple of hours. Remember you owe me a present. So tell me, what do you want? Hmm, I’ll tell you later, not on the telephone. Alright, I’ll drop by the house in a little while in case you’re still there. I was looking at your bookshelf, would you lend me Under the Volcano? It’s yours. O.K., I’ll see you later, we’re going to Altata for lunch. With the same girls? Two and two. Be careful, there are a lot of bad guys around there.
Zelda smiled. Boss, are you ever the model policeman, you never give anyone a peek at your private life. Agent Toledo, if you were paying attention, you would know that we have no private life, not you or me or anybody else. If you don’t have one now, you must have had one once, I mean if that boy is any indication, what’s his name? Jason. Are you going to deny he’s your son? Mendieta sipped his coffee, signalled Bety for another cup. I’m not going to deny it, the same as I can’t quite accept it, can you believe that I just met him and it was only the other day I learned he existed? Does he have a mother? Of course, last night we reached an agreement, I’m going to provide support so Jason can go to college. That’s good. Zelda wanted another orange juice, which Rudy brought immediately. On the sound system, Dolly Parton singing “Winter Wonderland”. Last night I told Rodo, before we set a date for the wedding I want him to make sure he doesn’t have a child running around somewhere, imagine us happily married and some kid turns up asking to borrow the car. Don’t exaggerate, Agent Toledo, I don’t think this happens very often. I’d rather he make sure, look, we thought you were practically a saint and here you’ve got a kid you’d never met, is the mother married? Lefty realised he had not asked, apart from Jason they had not talked about anything else, and yet he had gone ahead and asked Jason for her number so he could invite her to Devil Urquídez’s wedding. I don’t know. This morning you looked so happy I figured you had something going with somebody. Hey, why does everybody think waking up happy only comes from not sleeping alone? there are lots of reasons to wake up happy. That’s true, but nothing compares to a nice night with company, don’t deny it, you can even see it in their complexion. Seventh Cavalry Charge: Mendieta. Edgar? Is there another? Well, there’s Jason and there’s Enrique, you aren’t the only one. How are you feeling this morning? A little headachy, but fine, what a phenomenal night. You overdid it with the sambuca. Zelda chewed slowly, enjoying Lefty’s amorous banter, in his face you could see the world being reborn every four seconds. Jason told me you wanted to speak to me. Ah, yes, tonight Benito is getting married and there’ll be a lamb on a spit and . . . Count me in, is it very formal? Hmm, I don’t think so. Will we go to the Mass or just the party? Just the party, I’ll pick you up at nine thirty, how does that sound? Perfect, take care. Click. Lefty looked at his partner, who was still smiling. You didn’t ask if she was married, eh? Tonight I will. Do you see why I asked Rodo to go over everything? imagine the sucker coming out with some Sunday surprise just because I once gave him a week off. Now Lefty was the one smiling, and at the same time shaking his head in disapproval. Again the Seventh Cavalry Charge. It was Ortega: You bastard, I heard about your son, why didn’t you tell me? Well, I’m still waiting on the D.N.A. results. Are you ever fucked up, you must be scared shitless, it even brought back the time we first met; congratulations and forgive me for not being much help with your questions, I’m afraid I don’t really know that much, you even got me to thinking; what’s more, tonight I’m going to take Memo and my old lady out for hamburgers. Go to McDonald’s, so you can go on disability. What makes you think that shit could do anything to me, my stomach is cast iron; listen, we finished the analysis on Dr Manzo: Jack the Ripper everywhere, but the two specks of cocaine are pure, which means it was somebody heavy, maybe with bodyguards, in the bathroom we found several footprints, all sneakers, which is what most of the young hitmen
wear, we found splashes of urine on the edge of the bowl and sent samples to the lab, but that’s all we’re waiting on; they used two calibres, a .45 and a 5.4×28, which I already told you; and we found some outlines of letters on the desk in the waiting room though none of them is clear, it looks like they were writing on a piece of paper with a magic marker and a little seeped through. Another bastard who committed suicide. Listen, if you want to bring your son along we’ll be at Tatankas at eight. I’ll pass, the kid’s going to Altata with a chick. Good sign, he didn’t turn out a faggot like you; by the way give him some change for condoms, it shouldn’t happen to him what happened to another jerk I know. Your mother, asshole.
*
The Camel, a short fat officer with a bit of a hump on his back, led Lizzie Tamayo to the interrogation room. His erection was evident. The widow, wearing a black miniskirt and a low-cut white blouse, sashayed along beside him then settled herself in a chair in a way that magnified her charms. Poor is the poor man, heaven knows, he’ll be fucked wherever he goes, the badge reflected before calling in the detectives.
How long were you married? Since ’96, it’s been, what, twelve years? eleven? Lizzie, I can’t believe how great you look, how do you do it? how do you keep your weight down? You have to be on it every single day; people say the key to happiness is leading a good life, but that isn’t it, the key is looking good; keeping your figure takes sacrifice, nothing easy about it, but is it ever worth it; you can’t eat whatever you want or stay up late or overdo anything, you have to stay out of the sun and, well, you need to know which creams are the ones to use during the day and which at night, which perfume to use when, what clothes go with what accessories; don’t trust the sunscreens they advertise, they’re worthless; you’re not bad yourself, eh? You’re making that up, Zelda smiled, I look really awful. Don’t think like that, a little dieting, an hour’s walk every day, abdominals, stretches, remember motion is lotion, and you’ll be a beauty queen; first, I’d recommend using a good day cream, get a chic haircut, tell them not too short, don’t forget it’s December. I’ll take your advice. Do it, you’re young and you only live once, oh, and drink a lot of water, at least two litres a day, hydration is beautification. Lefty came in. Well, thank you, now to the matter at hand, where were you the night they killed your husband? Lizzie stiffened. At home, I prepared supper and waited for him. What did you cook? Black Forest ham sandwiches with Diet Coke. You sure know how to eat well, what did you do when Dr Manzo didn’t come home? First I called his cell, but he didn’t answer, at about ten I ate my sandwich and curled up in bed to watch television, I fell asleep and when I woke up it was getting light; I always encouraged him to go out with his friends, I thought he’d finally taken my advice. Who are his friends? Well, he really didn’t have any, what I wanted was for him to go out and meet girls, that sort of thing. You aren’t the jealous type. Why should I be? you only live once. What time did you learn the truth? At nine the next morning, when Noemí called. You have relations with two people, did they ever threaten him? Never. Did you ever talk about hiring someone to kill him? Never, ever. Did one of them want you all to himself? No, I don’t think so, with both of them it’s always been clear as could be: have a good time and that’s it. Did you go out with anyone else, someone who might be angry enough at your husband to murder him? Of course not, in the beginning I had a fling with my gynaecologist for a couple of months, but he’s easygoing; that was about ten years ago. Did your husband tell you about any troublesome patients? The undersecretary of the economy, that was a guy who set his teeth on edge, he was stingy, never wanted to pay; as a matter of fact, his wife is a very good-looking woman who was my classmate at the Tech. But in general, did you two get along? Really well, my girlfriends always said how great he was; yesterday they all kept me company saying goodbye to him. Lefty stepped out of the room, discouraged. A minute later the women went back to diets and other ways of keeping themselves beautiful and attractive. Raise the hemlines of your dresses a bit and keep a tight fit, every man likes to see asses and legs . . .
*
Edgar Mendieta and Susana Luján, he in his customary attire and she wearing a blue dress, stepped into the Texas Banquet Hall, a favourite of the narcos. It was 10.30 at night and the atmosphere was strangely uneasy. The two bands hired to play were silent and there was a murmur of voices. They went straight to the table set aside for gifts and left a microwave oven, and then over to say hello to Shorty Abitia, the father of the bride, who looked more pot-bellied and insignificant in a suit than in his usual shirt and jeans. He was surrounded by family.
What’s up, my man Shorty, how’s the fuse? Welcome, my man Lefty, and turning to Susana, How are you? sit with us, can I pour you a bucanitas? Good idea, where’s the happy couple? They left twenty minutes ago. Really? they must have left the oven on high. It’s not that, my man Lefty, Devil was told to get himself over to the Valdés house, and, well, Begoña is his woman now, so he took her along. Did he say anything about why or what? No, but it must be a huge mess, he seemed really upset; look, with all the shit coming down you never know, soon there’ll be more dead bodies than live ones. Poor Devil, he couldn’t enjoy his wedding in peace. As long as they don’t kill him, I’ll be happy. Why isn’t anybody dancing? Well, that’s why; what, do you feel like shaking off the fleas? Since you mentioned it.
Seven minutes later more than a hundred couples were dancing to “El Son de los Aguacates”.
Outside, a military convoy drove slowly by, unnerving Chopper Tarriba and his band of bodyguards keeping watch on the party.
Twelve
Samantha Valdés entered the meeting room at twenty-two minutes past eight; everyone stood up. Enclosed space, meticulously inspected for recording or broadcasting devices. She looked relaxed. Beside the long table with its nine cushioned chairs were two small ones that held drinks and snacks people could take as they wished; a vase of fragrant roses sat on each. Ugarte had before him a half-full glass of water with ice and a bit of Coke so it looked like a Cuba Libre; he had served himself a cracker with cheese, though he did not eat it, and had placed himself at the far end of the table, away from Samantha, who sat at the head. Fewer of the attendees would see him face-to-face. Pallid, but exhilarated, feeling the usual slight nausea, he kept his focus. Max Garcés stood guard.
The first thing I’ll say is that we have to remain united, La Jefa declared as she accepted a Buchanan’s with ice and mineral water. Our enterprise is a business, not a criminal syndicate. Day in, day out, the President keeps insisting this is a war and quite a few have taken the bait; we will not. He’s the one who is vulnerable, not us. I know for a fact, because it’s already happened to two of you, that every single one of you will receive invitations to ally with other organisations. Let’s not do that. The small fry are getting wiped out, they don’t see the trap until after they’ve fallen in; if they allow themselves to be fooled that’s their business. I invited the heads of the other groups, and you can see that none of them was interested, they’d rather have their guts cut out than try to forge an alliance. In our case, the business comes first, our clients, our routes. Politicians are always going to be grandstanding, the point is to keep them from acting on it. The United States isn’t going to decriminalise, even if their president claims that’s where he’s headed. At least that’s what my informants tell me, two of them are here today, and as long as that doesn’t happen, we have our market guaranteed. And the market rules. The gringos nodded in approval.
But, señora, what are we going to do? nearly two dozen of my boys have been killed. We’ll hire more, there are about fifteen million to choose from, and you’re going to make sure none of them is on the make and none of them picks any fights; explain to them that this is the way we run our business.
What do we do about the routes that have been disrupted? We win them back; of course, if we can’t do that nicely, then we’ll get nasty: the ends justify the means.
Señora, on my route they wa
nt more money. Tell them yes, we’re negotiating with the guys on top; what’s essential is that they see we are united, division would weaken us; has anyone had trouble obtaining weapons?
In my case it’s getting easier and easier, they’re sold like any other contraband.
For me too; I get offers every day, and at good prices.
Does anyone have any doubts about who our main enemies are?
They all shook their heads.
Chávez, in Juárez can we share the territory?
That’s my boss’s proposal, we’re expecting a meeting with the bros.
Name of the Dog Page 6
