Name of the Dog

by Elmer Mendoza

  O.K., let’s get down to what we’re here for, I don’t have much fucking time.

  From the passenger seat Tenia Solium turns and reaches out his right hand in greeting, which the Turk rejects.

  I haven’t come to socialise, Tenia, and since you didn’t kill Mariana Kelly we want the money back.

  Steely gaze. Same look as when he was summoned.

  Turk, I’m worth fuck-all, I can’t find a fuckin’ dentist to pull this tooth.

  He points to his head tied up with a dirty rag. Uncle Beto at the wheel.

  That’s your problem, we paid you for something you didn’t do and we want the dough back, and I see you’re driving a new car. So that’s all, and let me tell you, the boss isn’t happy about the dentists dying and the scare you gave the one in Bachigualato. Manzo was our dentist and we liked him. Don’t think I’m going to forget I sent you to him when we had our first chat at the Paraíso.

  I didn’t know you were so sentimental.

  I couldn’t give a fuck what you know or don’t know, just hurry up with the moolah because Señor Arredondo wants what’s his.

  I couldn’t get her in Mazatlán because of the tooth, but she got good and fucked anyway; that’s what counts, right? Besides, when we saw each other the second time you said Samantha would be there; Mariana wasn’t a sure thing.

  Don’t try to confuse things, Tenia, she was there and you didn’t take her down, and now we have the Pacific Cartel stepping on our heels and a fucking tough bastard of a badge: Lefty Mendieta.

  In-fuckin’-credible, that faggot got away from me once, a fuck-load of years ago; let me be the one to take him down.

  You still don’t get it, Tenia Solium, we’re not interested, all we want is our money back.

  Uncle Beto lit a cigarette.

  Turk, if they don’t pull this mother it’s going to carry me off to fuckin’ hell; help me, take me to another dentist.

  You’re fucking dreaming, you’ve got twenty hours, tomorrow at eight I’ll expect you at the Comercial Mexicana Campiña parking lot, next to Coppel.

  The Turk gets out. Tenia opens his door.

  Aren’t you going to say goodbye?

  And he peppers him with bullets.

  Nobody tells me to hurry, you prick, and if your fuckin’ boss is such a macho let him come himself.

  The Hummer rolls unhurriedly out of the lot. The Turk lies spreadeagled next to the little Sentra. Movie-lovers come out of the last show, chatting.

  Thirty-Nine

  Devil Urquídez and Chopper Tarriba entered the restaurant swaggering like cowboys.

  They were wearing black leather jackets and baseball caps with the logo of the Culiacán Tomateros. Is someone expecting you? smiled the knockout of a hostess. We’re guests of Señor Blake Hernández, could you point us to his table? The girl checked her list: Table forty-six, this way, please; he’s with the blonde señora at the back. That’s my aunt, thank you.

  “White Christmas” by the Sinaloa Youth Symphony Orchestra, under the baton of Baltasar Hernández, on the sound system.

  Señor Blake Hernández, come with us. The man scrutinised the recent arrivals warily. Who needs me? Lizzie glanced at the two gunslingers and sipped her cocktail, unconcerned. The top dog. Blake’s expression was sour; they smiled, relaxed. Could you hang on for a few minutes? We don’t mind, but the big man is in a hurry. That’s what he said, added Chopper, who had blue eyes. Blake turned to the girl: If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, take a taxi. You are horrible, she threw her cocktail in his face, I hate you, then a plate with the remains of an aguachile at his chest. Hey, take it easy, don’t start in with your fucking act, you’re a big girl now. You are such a jerk, you boor, you lout. Lizzie was one of those women whose beauty shone when she got angry, she knew that of course.

  Stepping out the door Devil gave him a wallop on the back that shook him to the core. Constantino tried to respond but Chopper put a gun to his head. Don’t give us any trouble, you fucking fag-got, unless you want to be worth shit. Hey, take it easy, I get it, and just to say something he added, I know one of the heavies. Here the only heavyweights are us, asshole, another wallop. And shut your trap. Before putting him in the Hummer they frisked him, handcuffed him and put a hood over his head. Behind the glass door with the restaurant’s logo the hostess was going over her reservation list and did not see a thing. Are you sure I’m the one you’re looking for? What, you think we’re blind? Devil cleared his mind with another blow, this time with his pistol. Hunk Gómez is my friend, from the Pacific Cartel, when he was young he worked with us at Blake’s Auto Parts, I don’t see any point in handcuffing and hooding me. You can explain that to the boss. Chopper pulled out. In the back seat Blake’s anger quickly turned to fear. Do you know what they want me for? No-one answered; he tried to calm himself. The night of the murder of Dr Humberto Manzo Solís he had gone to see Gómez, who controlled a portion of the border between Mexicali and Tijuana. After waiting five hours in a house in the neighbourhood of Chapule, he got the interview and asked for a loan; it wasn’t that much, he wanted to pay his workers their Christmas bonus and have something for the January drought. For sure now they had the money for him; so he stopped worrying and brought Lizzie’s body to mind: Fucking witch, how does she manage to keep herself looking so good? it must be all that sex, does she ever love to spread her legs. Chopper turned down the volume on the stereo, “Lamberto Quintero” by Chalino Sánchez. That woman is addicted to sex, I can’t help it that she’s a widow, and what with Peraza off on vacation with his family, that must be why she flew off the handle, she wanted to do it again after supper; once I collect the money from the Hunk I think I’ll drop in on her, I like driving her out of her mind, it’s what the bitch loves.

  They turned into the S.M.P. parking lot and pulled up at Gori’s door, which Devil still recalled from his days as a badge. We’re here, asshole. Would you take this mother off me? The señor will do it. Let’s go, said Chopper, who had not opened his mouth during the ride, and he hauled him by the arm. Blake felt his strength. When they crossed the threshold, Blake noticed the acrid odour of the place, and as soon as they took off his hood he knew where he was. Devil put a gun to his forehead, Chopper put his to the back of his neck. One move and you’ve fucked your mother, you fucking pansy. Blake thought about it and continued walking, he spotted Gori and smiled, but not for long, Robles threw a bucket of cold water on him, and Gori connected an electrode to one leg, he tried to kick, but . . . Hey, none of that, cocksucker. Even with all this you can barely manage, eh gorilla, you’re like every other badge, mediocre to the core. Robles swung a baseball bat and caught him on the back, he stumbled. You’re a faggot, his voice shaking. Gori closed the circuit and gave him 220 volts. The engineer doubled over. Gori waved a thank you to Devil and Chopper, who departed satisfied. Let’s see, Papa, so you’re a real macho? he hit him in the crotch with the baseball bat. I hope you’ve already got kids, asshole. Uggh. Because if you don’t, you never fucking will, where did you get the idea of messing with my old lady? you think you’re hot shit, don’t you? well, you are about to get royally fucked. He poured chilli powder into a bottle of Tehuacán soda water. We’ve got a camera here so you can send lots of pictures to your little brother, you fucking faggot, only these are going to be real.

  If Blake and Gori ever discussed their perceptions of these Solaris-like moments, they would never agree, or would they?

  Forty

  Francelia was driving; she was listening to “Me Voy” by Julieta Venegas, the Tijuana crooner, and singing along: “qué lástima pero adiós”. Her mother asleep, her father hanging on. They managed to get through Tepic without incident and Ugarte figured they could stop for a few days in Mazatlán, maybe at the Estrella Reluciente, which was on the outskirts, the people there were discreet and the women could relax at the beach if the weather was good. The unmistakable shadow was there in the corner of his eye, but that no longer tormented him, some adversaries simply canno
t be beat. One hundred and twenty kilometres per hour. Francelia spied a checkpoint and slowed down. What is it? A checkpoint, Pa. The army? Looks like the Federal Police. They’ve got black uniforms, María added, more or less awake. The two old cars advancing slowly ahead of them were waved on, but not them; they were sent to a rest area next to where the roadblock had been set up. The one car behind them was waved on through. Where are you coming from? From Guadalajara and we’re headed for Mazatlán. Fuck Mazatlán, you people are staying right here, get out and don’t touch a thing, leave your bags, cell phones, money, everything you’ve got. But. Please, my husband is very ill. Then he’s going to be the first one out, and you better hurry, we don’t have any fucking time, or the story ends here. Don’t be inhuman, look how sick he is. Shut your trap, you fucking bitch, if you don’t I’ll fuck him to save him the suffering, he pointed an A.K.-47; and we’ll give you and the babe a nice screw so you don’t go around saying we didn’t take you into account. Let’s get out, Ugarte mumbled, pulling himself together, there were too many for his little pistol; don’t argue. The women opened their doors, then Ugarte’s, who slid over slowly, trembling, in pain. Move it, fucking cows. Will you allow me to take along my husband’s pills? he needs them. You aren’t going to take a motherfucking thing, if he’s going to die, let him die already, he looks totally fucked. Ugarte squeezed his wife’s arm so she would not insist. Five young guys collected the orange cones that marked the checkpoint, climbed into the van and took off the wrong way, against the traffic. As their car receded into the distance, they watched in silence, absorbing what had just occurred. Bastards, Francelia said, did you see, Mama? they looked to be about my age. Take it easy, at least they left us in one piece. Now what? Someone will come along who’ll take us to the nearest town; if there aren’t any taxis there, we’ll pay someone to take us to Mazatlán. Ugarte sat on the ground, he looked defeated, offended, besieged, without the medicine soon the pain would be torture. Do you have any money? because I spent all of mine in Guadalajara. A hundred pesos, the rest is in my bag with the credit cards and everything else. No truck will take us for that; Pa, do you have any? Nothing. They took the cell phones too. So we’ll have to show off our legs, Ma and me. Don’t push it, Ugarte touched the small Smith & Wesson Classic in his jacket pocket and gave thanks they hadn’t frisked him, but he did not mention it, María did not approve of certain military traditions.

  After twenty minutes with their thumbs out, a Nissan Frontier from way back in the twentieth century stopped. Driving it was a young rancher who blatantly ogled Francelia. What are you doing here? We got robbed, they took everything, van, money, credit cards: everything. Those bastards have been fucking with us for a while and they can’t seem to catch the creeps; if you like I can take you to La Concha, listen, your friend looks really out of it, was it the fright that got him? He’s ill. Get in then, in La Concha we’ll find someone to take you to Escuinapa if you want to see a doctor. Would you take us to Mazatlán? Hmm, I don’t know, when we get to town you can talk to Elías, he’s my compadre, but he’s a real tough nut, and he’s the only one who has a good car; get in, my friend, one of you women climb in back.

  An hour and a half later they were going seventy kilometres an hour in a Volkswagen Beetle with the radio blasting rancheras. On the outskirts of Mazatlán someone lent them a telephone, Ugarte called the Turk. We buried him yesterday, his son said, they killed him, and we don’t even feel up to reporting the crime. Are you the lawyer? You could say that. The Turk told me about you, he had a lot of faith in you, so take care of yourself. Were you a friend of his? We went to high school together; now you’ve got to look to the future and become a success, that bit about keeping the Culichis from having street parties would be really hard to pull off, but it sounds smart. He told you about my thesis? Proud as could be, but he was really worried. Yeah, he told me that too, and the fact is I’m going to think it over, could you tell me your name? Of course, Ugarte, and take care of yourself because life has a lot of good to it; he could not help but recall his friend’s words; and to think you were sure you would go after me, I hope St Peter doesn’t give you any trouble. Then in the Mazatlán phone book he looked up the coordinates of the friend he had seen two years before in Scotts-dale getting treatment for a simple skin cancer. He called him at his office: Señorita, tell Architect Miranda that it’s Héctor Ugarte, a friend from high school. A minute later: What’s up, fucking Ugarte, are you here? Nearby, and don’t thank me yet, I’m calling to ask a favour, how’s your skin doing? It’s like I’m fifteen again, you bastard, thank God, what about you? No, I didn’t beat it, so I’m getting ready for that trip they say is really short: it lasts less than a second. Well, I heard it was really long because you never come back, so what’s up? We got robbed near La Concha and they took everything; a taxi is taking us to Mazatlán and I’ll need to pay the driver; I’m with my wife and my daughter. They cleaned you out of money, credit cards, documents, car, all that? Everything, even my visas for Canada and the United States. Tell him to bring you to my office and we’ll take care of whatever you need, he gave him the address. Thank you, my friend. Don’t start fucking with me now, you were always a real faggot, but you weren’t sentimental. Hearing his old nickname, Ugarte knew the door would be open.

  On the radio: Approximately two hours ago, on a major highway in the North, a southbound Windstar van, white with Tlaxcala plates, was gunned down by a commando unit of men in grey, according to eyewitnesses. At the scene the bodies of several passengers have yet to be identified because they were burned from head to toe. Ugarte closed his eyes. What group was General Alvarado talking about? María and Francelia clung to each other. My God, what monster had they awakened? what could this gentle man have done to make them so angry? who were those men in grey? who were the men lying dead in their house? María put a hand on her husband’s shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. The driver, paying no heed, whistled along to the ranchera.

  Forty-One

  The following day Blake looked pale in the interrogation room. He walked with difficulty. He grimaced in pain when he sat down. Zelda, enjoying her Diet Coke, took his statement. He was a wreck, eyes red, arm hanging loose, trembling and evidently burning with rage. The detective, in all formality, asked: Where were you the night of the murder of Dr Humberto Manzo Solís? Blake hung his head, his mocking tone and his arrogance were both gone. I was with Antonio Gómez, I waited for him from seven until twelve, then he saw me and I spoke with him for five minutes; he had to go to Mazatlán, he didn’t tell me what for; I went to ask him for a loan so I could pay my employees their full Christmas bonus; he worked for us seventeen years ago and he’s been good to me; three times he’s helped me out of a squeeze, and I’ve paid him back on time; he’s a real stickler when it comes to money, maybe because he grew up poor. Your alibi is not easy to confirm, Señor Blake. I know, that’s why I didn’t want to tell you, who’s going to go ask the Hunk if what I’m saying is true? Why did he keep you waiting so long? He was with some babes. Zelda took a sip of her Coke. Why did you send those photographs to your brother? To mess with you. Well, it sure gave him an opportunity to play the hero, he won’t leave us alone. I know what Attorney Blake is like, he’s been that way since he was a child. Are you going to send him something now? This is where it dies, sometimes you lose and other times you stop winning. What day did Gómez go to Mazatlán? After he spoke with me, he had an appointment, he didn’t say what and that’s got nothing to do with me. Precisely, how did you become so good at fighting? Oh, I trained in boxing and karate, is that a crime now? Pause while Zelda took another sip. You cannot leave the city. Am I still a suspect? Until I confirm your alibi, have you seen Lizzie Tamayo? Every day. Can I know why? Because our relationship is sexual, don’t tell me you don’t do it every day. Have you heard of Tenia Solium? Crime is not my specialty, señorita, and now that I’ve had a look, neither is it yours. What about Gómez, is he a sister of charity? The man pursed his lips. Merry Ch
ristmas, Señor Blake. Don’t fuck with me with that, señorita.

  Everything O.K., Zelda my girl? Gori was smiling happily. Perfect, my man Gori, and you, did you sleep through the night? Like a freshly castrated priest; listen, if you need me, just call, I’m going to find a present for my father-in-law and another for my goddaughter now that I know it isn’t so hard. Gori, take your wife and your daughter along, we women love to go shopping, we even forget about life’s troubles. They’ll shop me out of house and home. It’s Christmas, Gori my friend, you should do everything as a family, this afternoon Rodo and I are taking my mother shopping. Then I’ll do as you say, what about Lefty? He’ll be here soon, he’s out buying presents with his son. Yikes, everybody’s doing that, maybe I’ll run into him; by the way, he thanked me for the book. You impressed him. That’s what he said, so I’ll see you later, Zelda, and thank you, I owe you one.

  *

  Lefty entered the cartel’s safe-house in Las Quintas at 11.30 in the morning. Max Garcés and Hyena Wong were waiting for him. They were smoking, joking, evoking past adventures. The Hyena had snorted enough to keep him from getting anxious. Garcés introduced them. Wong was a little older than Mendieta, shorter and thinner. I was telling Max that I know something about you, copper, something about back when we were little squirts. Lefty studied him: yellowish skin, bony, pronounced Asian features, neat black moustache. Don’t remind me of the good old days, Wong, the farther away they get, the happier I am. The Hyena smiled, nodding. Then I’ll only say once upon a time we called you the Cat, because you had nine lives, you must remember. The past will set us free, Lefty lit a cigarette, refused to dredge up memories, gave it a puff and spoke up. You said on the telephone that you attended a meeting in Mazatlán representing your cousin Wang. Yeah. That you seemed to recognise the guy from Hermosillo from someplace else. I couldn’t be dead sure, but that dude, I know I set my eyeballs on him before in some other busyness; on the plane I was racking the noodle and it won’t quite fill in the blank, but I’ll be damned if I can place the others either, there were three or four buddies I’d never seen. Max perked up. But that dude from Hermosillo, it was just the way I remembered you, his face in my mind, but I can’t be sure. Make an effort, do you think he was on your side or the other? The feeling I get, like he was the law, but I can’t say for dead certain, you know what a bitch Ah-old-timer’s is; I couldn’t believe how pale he was, like he was nervous, you could tell when the señora asked how things were in the territories; he said fine, his voice was firm; but that needle’s pricking at my brain even more now with what happened. You remember him from before. Yeah, maybe years ago, like you. Mendieta turned to Garcés, who gave him a subtle signal that they could talk afterward. In this business you get all kinds, Mendieta. Don’t I know it, Devil is a good example, he looked at the Hyena, whose eyes were black, small, lethal; he had heard a lot about his cruelty and his effectiveness, of his cousin Wang’s rise to success with him as his lieutenant. Did you notice anything strange in any of the three or four you mentioned? Nope, but I didn’t know them, all the rest I’d set eyes on at least once, the guys from Tijuana I know I know, I’m one of the few who’ve been in the organisation forever, the San Luis people too, and the dudes from Juárez. Do you remember what time the meeting was? About eight-thirty. Did the one from Hermosillo arrive before or after you? Before; a serious dude, maybe too serious, he sat right beside me at a long, long table. What were his hands like? What’s this about, copper? well, maybe if the dude had been a babe, but I’m no faggot, no, I’ve got nothing to say. I want to know if they were strong. Now that you mention it, they were normal, they didn’t seem weak. Max told me he was wearing a leather jacket. It was a little big for him. On his body? On his arms too, you could say the dude wasn’t exactly ripped. O.K., like I said, we’re looking for Mariana Kelly’s murderer and anything could be helpful. My cousin Wang is really hurting, he even closed his restaurant for a day in mourning; Max, if I can’t see La Jefa, tell her my cousin hopes her sorrow will soon pass. I’ll tell her. Copper, I’m so glad you left Narcotics, you know back then we weren’t so quick to get back at people, because now you step out your door and you don’t know if you’ll ever come back. Regular people say the same thing; let’s see, Wong, you’ve been around the longest, do you think one of the guys at the meeting was involved in killing Mariana? No matter who I knew or didn’t know, I’m saying they hired a professional; I’m not accusing anyone, but I’ve seen things, and the truth is I wouldn’t put my hands into the fire for any of them. Especially the ones you don’t know. To begin with, but even the ones I know I know. What do you mean? interrupted Max Garcés, stubbing out his cigarette on the floor. Well, just that, after what happened with Eloy Quintana, that bastard had been with us from the very beginning, and despite the fact we took him and his people down, there’ll always be somebody who might get the notion of hitting where it hurts most. I hear you, we think the assassin got in by the window after rappelling down from the roof. Really? well, then you’d have to cross off half of them, copper, they’re obeast and we were all pretty juiced; before the meeting, which was delayed a bit, we guzzled two bottles of whisky with those little drops you must know all about, we were in my room, everybody except for the dudes I didn’t know. What about the one from Hermosillo? He stopped by, stayed a while, he had a drink and disappeared without saying goodbye; but that’s normal, the bros never say goodbye: it’s bad luck. Right. I wasn’t paying much attention then, but I eyeballed the whole bunch and he was one of them; at the meeting I got a better look-see. None of the others seemed nervous to you? They looked normal, listening closely to La Jefa, reporting on their shit. Did you head off to continue drinking once the meeting was over? Continue drinking? no way, we were out of there like bullets, that’s what you always do. So you didn’t see the guy from Hermosillo again? No, the only one I saw was the buddy from San Luis who went back with me in my cousin’s plane; several of the bros had their planes at the airport: it’s the best way to get home in a hurry, but I didn’t see him; now that we’re finishing up, I’m out of here, there’s a party tonight and I don’t want to miss it. O.K., as soon as you remember where you saw the Hermosillo guy before, you let me know, and if something turns up we’ll give you a call. The Cat we used to call you, copper; the bros who did the car trick on you never imagined you were going to get out alive. Leave their names with Max, just in case. No point: except for one, they’re all dead. So, divine justice. They smiled.