Malice in Mexico

by Gayle Wigglesworth

  Kathleen nodded her grim approval. “That may solve the immediate problem, but what about the security issue at the factory? We can’t have something like this happening again.”

  He nodded. “I agree completely. First of all we are going to take care of Tony. We’ll bring in someone else, who has better judgment, someone who will not be so easily distracted from what he is doing. Next, I’ll instruct Ben that all manufacturing, packing and shipping will be done in the locked section of the factory to prevent any further problems.”

  She nodded. “I agree. The chances of another tourist wandering through are remote, but there are always the regular workers who might be curious. What goes on behind the locked doors won’t be their problem. And what they don’t see won’t stir their imaginations and tempt them to investigate.”

  There was a silence as they both thought about the solution to their problems.

  “What about Tony? What are you going to do about him?”

  “Don’t worry; Ben will take care of him. He’ll just disappear one day, probably fall in one of the old mine shafts. They’re a real danger around here.”

  * * *

  Phil silently stepped into the library. He wasn’t anxious to interrupt Manny while he was watching the three televisions mounted in the far wall. Manny was furious. Actually, Phil admitted, he had good reason to be upset. Somehow the Feds stumbled onto the container they had coming in through the port with a shipment of cocaine and the news of that discovery was all over CNN. It was spooky how they had found that one container. It was almost as if they had been led to it. But Phil knew that wasn’t possible. There had been no leak. Only he and Manny knew about the container and Manny wouldn’t have told and he knew he didn’t.... So?

  It had to be dumb luck. And they were hurting. Dr. Nose had been complaining, well, as much as he dared to complain. He said he couldn’t fill the orders he had. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, now he had to report more bad news to Manny.

  Phil slipped into the leather chair sitting in front of Manny’s desk and waited patiently for Manny to listen to him.

  “Christ! Listen to them. You’d have thought they invented the wheel or something. It’s just dumb luck. Shit, lucky for them, not for us!”

  Manny sat back in his chair, took a cigarette out of the little box on the edge of his desk and lit it. He sucked in deeply and then let it drift out through his nostrils, visibly relaxing as the smoke hit his lungs.

  “All right Phil. What have you got? I can tell you’re jumping with news. I hope to God it’s good, but I can see by your face it’s not.”

  Phil shook his head gloomily. “It’s that gang on the west side, the Tigers. They’re moving into the club area out there. They don’t seem to be hurting for product. And they’re boldly offering to supply the area.”

  Manny sat up. “Those nervy little bastards,” he growled then pounded on the desk with his fist. “We need to teach them a lesson in professional courtesy; one that others can learn from as well. Get Angelo in here!”

  Manny puffed furiously on this cigarette as Phil pulled out his cell phone and made a call to Angelo. Then while they waited for Angelo to arrive from the rooms over the garage, they discussed the members of the Tigers and who should be targeted as the object of this lesson.

  Phil suggested they take out Gilberto, the Tiger’s cocky leader, and effectively destroy the gang. But Manny was more cunning and even crueler. He wanted to take out Hector, Gilberto’s little brother.

  “We need to make sure Gilberto is there to keep control over the gang. If we take him out, the rest might over-react and start a full scale war and then it will take too much effort getting the area back under control. Trust me on this, Gilberto will understand the lesson. He’s more than a big brother to Hector; he’s like Hector’s father. He dotes on that kid. He’s been in charge of his whole family now since his mother was gunned down at the corner store robbery.

  “But, lately he’s been getting a little too big for his britches. He knows I own that area. He knows he has no business there. He needs a good lesson.”

  Angelo arrived and nodded excitedly as Manny gave him his instructions.

  “And Angelo, if any others in the car just happened to get killed along with the target, I’ll understand. Sometimes you just can’t control where all the bullets go.” Manny smiled with benevolence. “Just make sure you get Hector, and do it early in the day. They won’t be watching for trouble then.”

  Angelo was jumping; he liked this kind of work. He left the library promising results before morning.

  Phil stared at the door as it closed behind Angelo. Then he shook his head. Stupid, cocky Gilberto; he was only a kid, posturing and bragging to his gang, but he had overstepped his bounds, and now they would all pay for it. And Phil wondered if they would really learn much, certainly not enough to justify the price they were going to pay.

  “Damn. Where is that bitch, KC? I’ve called her and called her. All I get is her answering machine. I’m ready to do business, if I can find her.” He thumped his fist down on the desk again. “I need product. The business is going south without it.

  “Phil, call New Orleans and see if you can get us some product to hold us over until the next shipment comes in. Offer them premium price. We need the product.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Is that it?” Ricky pointed to the upper road.

  “Where?”

  “There, just after that curve. It’s silver, see.”

  “Are you crazy? That’s not a BMW. That’s a Volkswagen Beetle. Can’t you tell the difference? What’s the matter with you?” Ben’s voice dripped with scorn and he settled back to wait. The way Ricky was bouncing around in the seat was beginning to worry him. He wondered if he had been sampling some of the cocaine they had been processing.

  This was a serious business they were in, and there was no room for coke heads who might jeopardize their operation. He’d have to keep an eye on Ricky, he decided gloomily. Already he was going to have to dispose of Tony. Now he wondered if he would have to take care of Ricky, too. And that would mean bringing in some more guys and then training them. He boiled with frustration. This was turning out to be a harder job than he thought it would be when he signed on.

  He was a city guy, Mexico City to be exact. This little hill area was totally foreign to him. But he had been involved with the Columbia drug cartel for years. And against all odds he had survived. So when his bosses made a deal with the Irishman to provide the cocaine for his process to turn it into coca negra in order to move it into the States to be converted back into pure cocaine for distribution, he had jumped at the chance to be their man on site. This was his big chance to score.

  Only recently he had begun to realize how fortunate he was to have survived this long in the business; he was also starting to think carefully about retirement. The Irishman promised him a substantial reward for his expertise and Ben felt this was a man who could make a success of the expensive process of converting the drug. He knew all about the process of adding cobalt and ferric chloride to the white powder and forming black bricks that would get past the usual detection methods of sniffing drug dogs as well as the tests used to determine whether or not cocaine was present. But the Irishman and the woman came up with the idea of forming the bricks into little statues. It was brilliant. He suspected it was undetectable unless someone tipped the authorities. Or unless someone like Ricky blabbed.

  He glanced at Ricky again. He had worked with him for quite a while and found him to be reliable, but he hadn’t noticed the twitching or his nervousness before. If Ricky had succumbed to the temptation of the white powder, he’d have to go. He wouldn’t be reliable any more.

  Now he saw the car. It was the right shape and the right color. It had to be the right car. He watched carefully and saw there were no cars following closely. Perfect. He eased his battered, dusty truck closer to the road, positioned himself to watch in his side mirror for the BMW to head down this section
of road. “They’re coming!” was all the warning he gave Ricky, concentrating totally on the mirror image. The silver car was in the mirror now, then it flashed past and he pulled off the shoulder into the road and accelerated to catch up. Soon as the road began curving sharply he was right behind the silver car and could see the BMW symbol on the back. He couldn’t see into the car as the darkened windows masked the passengers from the brilliance of the sun, but also prevented Ben from identifying the passengers. But it fit the description, and he knew there weren’t likely to be many of this type of vehicle on this mountain road. He was confident he had the right car.

  He pulled up to its bumper and then seeing no one was in the oncoming lane pulled out as if to pass. The silver car slowed to give the truck ample opportunity to pass, but Ben slowed too, staying even with the BMW and when the road curved sharply to the right, he pulled the steering wheel sharply and broadsided the BMW.

  There was a shriek of metal against metal; then the hiss of tires skidding on the asphalt as the driver stood on his brakes. The car went through the barrier of plants growing at the edge of the road before plunging over the embankment and out of sight.

  Ben fought with the wheel of his truck when the resistance of the BMW was suddenly gone. His truck swerved dangerously toward the edge of the road. Finally he got it under control. Braking hard as he pulled to the side, he then quickly shifted into reverse and backed up to just before the place the other car went over. He pulled the brake and leaped out of his truck just in time to see the BMW explode into flames. He staggered back from the sudden heat, shocked at this bad luck.

  He looked over at Ricky who now stood beside him, opened-mouthed, and gaping. “I guess there won’t be any survivors.” But he was wondering how the Irishman was going to accept his explanation for why he couldn’t deliver his frog. Who would have expected the car to explode? He wondered if there was an engineering flaw in this car.

  “Let’s get out of here.” They got back in the truck and peeled rubber leaving the scene. Let someone else be the Good Samaritan and call in the accident. They were out of there.

  * * *

  “I thought that was you. What are you doing in here?” Kaye Carter smiled as she grabbed Claire’s arm.

  “Looking at Diego Rivera’s paintings?” Claire grinned at Kaye’s surprised look. “Look at this one. Doesn’t this face look a little cockeyed? I’m kind of surprised to see something so amateurish by such a renowned artist, but I suppose everyone has some failures. He probably did this when he was two, or something like that.”

  Kaye studied the painting, nodding. “Definitely not one of his best. But I suppose when you become a famous anything, they save and display every piece you’ve ever made. Actually, I meant Guanajuato. What are you doing in Guanajuato?”

  Now Claire laughed. “We thought it was required of all San Miguel tourists so we booked a car for a tour. Are you now saying it isn’t?”

  “Silly, actually, I think it is required. Isn’t it beautiful here? Steve and I come frequently just for a change of scenery.”

  “Is he here?” Claire looked around and saw only Jack engrossed in the sketch of one of Rivera’s murals in the next room.

  “No, he was coming, but at the last minute he changed his mind, something to do with one of his projects. But I wasn’t about to change my plans because the sisters are giving a performance tonight at the Teatro Juarez.”

  “The Mondot sisters? Oh, how nice. Jeff told me they were very good.”

  Kaye nodded. “They are and they don’t perform very often. This is special, for the benefit of a student at the college who has been diagnosed with leukemia. They are raising funds for a bone marrow transplant. It’s very expensive. It’s going to be a twilight concert, at six-thirty.” Kaye looked at Claire again. “You know, if you’d like to come I have an extra ticket so you’d only have to buy one more.”

  “That’s very nice of you. I’d love to hear them and to see the inside of that old theatre, but Jack and I hired a car for the day and the driver is waiting for us near the Jardin Union.”

  “But you could ride back with me. I have plenty of room and frankly, I would appreciate the company. Just let your driver go and come with me. What do you say?”

  “Well, I say, let me talk to Jack a minute.”

  She left Kaye looking at the paintings displayed on the wall and interrupted Jack.

  “It’s okay with me; do you think you’d like to hear them?”

  “I’d love it. Remember that concert we went to in Venice? If this is only a fraction of the quality of that one it will be a treat. And it is going to be in the old opera house. That would be worth the change of plans. Would you mind riding back with Kaye?”

  “Why not? She seems to be a responsible person and she managed to drive here, so she must be competent enough to get us back. Let’s talk to her about it.”

  “Hi Kaye, it’s really nice of you to offer us a ticket and a ride. Are you sure it won’t be an inconvenience? I could just arrange to have Raphael wait for us.”

  “No, no that’s a foolish expense. I’m going back; I’m alone, so I’ll be glad for the company and the Pruitt’s house isn’t even very far from our house. Please, say yes. It would be good to use the ticket and when you buy another one it will just be that much more for that poor girl’s treatment fund.”

  “Let’s do it.” Jack nodded decisively.

  They walked back through town and Jack left the ladies on the steps of the theatre while he went and talked to Raphael. Claire saw a lot of nods and smiles, then Jack pulled out his wallet and paid Raphael and turned back to join them.

  “Now, let’s see about getting another ticket.” Jack led the way up the stairs and discussed the purchase of a ticket with the man in the ticket booth. “If we’re going to sit together, I need your tickets Kaye so the gentleman can exchange them for three together.”

  Kaye produced the tickets and the transaction was made. They all stood for a moment at the top of the steps looking over the Jardin Union stretched in front of them. “How about we get some dinner before the show? I think we have time.”

  Claire smiled; it seemed to her that Jack was always hungry. She assumed it was part of his healing process, but she admitted she could probably eat again, too. She was getting used to having drinks and snacks every afternoon.

  Kaye nodded. “Good idea because the concert will last until about eight and then we’ll want to get on the road. I suggest Posada Santa Fe, there, or Casa Valadez. Either of them would be good.”

  “Let’s sit at the one on the sidewalk. We stopped at that one over there earlier today, so this will be different.” Jack pointed.

  Claire agreed as she loved sitting outdoors where they could watch the people while they ate.

  “I can’t get over how much this city reminds me of a town in Italy,” Jack said looking around.

  “Really? What town is that?” Kaye asked.

  “Sorrento. It’s on the coast below Naples and very close to Pompeii. In fact, I believe many of the tours to Pompeii come from Sorrento. It sits on the mountains at the edge of the sea and has a city center with a park and sidewalk cafes just like this. And the buildings all climb the hills as they do here. But Sorrento is known for their lemons. People have lemons growing everywhere. They grow them on trees which are tied up almost like grape vines. They use the lemons to make a wonderful lemon liqueur.” Jack smiled remembering it. “It’s a beautiful town.”

  He looked at Claire. “Some day I’ll take you there. It’s a perfect place to stay if you want to see the Amalfi Coast or take the boat over to the Isle of Capri. I think the southern part of Italy is somewhat neglected.”

  Claire nodded dreamily, thinking how wonderful it would be to explore the southern part of Italy with Jack.

  Kaye nodded with enthusiasm. “We’ve been to Sorrento and I think you’re right. Guanajuato is very much like it. I’ll have to mention that to Steve and see if he agrees. We loved our trip to th
at area, perhaps that’s why we’re so taken with this area.”

  Suddenly Claire sat up, her eyes wide as she remembered. “Jack. We forgot the box of pottery we had in Raphael’s trunk.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t. He’s going to deliver it to the house tomorrow morning before he goes out on his trip. Relax.”

  She nodded sheepishly. She forgot how capable Jack was. He wasn’t likely to overlook things the way she might.

  “So Raphael stopped by one of the potteries?”

  “Yes, and we bought a box full. My mother does catering and she loves to use nice pottery dishes as serving pieces. She brought several back from Italy last year when we were there. We found some things just as nice at this pottery Raphael took us to. I confess I even bought a piece for me, and I don’t even cook.” She laughed.

  “Well, you know these guys get a percentage, so I’m sure he was happy you liked the pottery he chose.”

  “We loved it, and I don’t really care if he gets a commission. The price was very good and the quality was excellent. I wouldn’t have found it without him.”

  The waiter served their salads, and Kaye and Jack talked further about some of the places they visited in Italy. Claire told Kaye about the concert they attended in the church in Venice the year before. By the time their coffee was served, they could see people starting to arrive at the opera house. Claire and Kaye took turns using the facilities while Jack settled the bill and they joined the crowd in front of the Teatro Juarez.

  “I’m relieved to see many people are dressed casually. I was a little worried,” Claire commented.

  Jack just raised his eyebrows; he never worried about the dress code.

  Kaye laughed. “It’s a benefit for the University. Much of the audience will be students and not given to dressing up for any occasion.”