Disconcerted, Anna blurted out a question she preferred María not answer, "you mean you and Miguel dated at some point?"
"I didn't mean to upset you, Anna. I'm teasing you because I think you're more interested in our Miguel more than you admit, even to yourself. And he's obviously interested in you, already the stuff of gossip at school."
This came as news to Anna, leaving her surprised and a little annoyed, though she realized María might be right. She smiled her response knowing María wasn't easily fooled. The two women rode in silence the last mile or two to Belén. Anna contemplated her relationship with Miguel, curious about the exact nature of the gossip and trying without success to forget the disastrous events of the day.
"Bueno, here we are, Anna." María turned onto the paved section of the Belén road. "Thank you for leaving the fiesta with me and don't worry about us. I'm taking the children to my parent's house. We'll spend the night there. I have enough medicine to get me through the next couple of days. I'll see you tomorrow."
"No problem, María," Anna said, "though you're welcome to stay with me. You and the children can sleep in my bed and I can stay in the room on the roof." She would enjoy the company of María and her children. It might settle her down from a highly unsettling day. Facing the night alone wasn't a pleasant thought even with the promise of Miguel's visit. She wondered again what he wanted to discuss with her.
"Thanks, Anna. I'm stopping home to gather clothes for tomorrow. My mother's house is on the outskirts of Tlaxcala, not far from here. She can watch the children tomorrow while I travel to the funeral. Please don't worry about me. Oh, this cobblestone street of yours is terrible, fit only for burros. Do you mind if I let you out at the top of the hill? There's no need to worry about that goon back in Cuamantla. I'll bet he's sitting in a doctor's house somewhere getting his arm bones re-set." María laughed again.
"You're probably right. The walk to the house will do me good. I need to clear the cobwebs from my brain. I'll see you in Cuamantla in the morning. Sleep well and may God be with you."
"God be with you, also, Anna. Until tomorrow."
Chapter 20
Standing at the crest of the hill, Anna watched María's red bug disappear around the bend on the Tlaxcala road. The village of Belén lay shrouded in darkness, moonlight casting eerie shadows along the cobbled road. A long line of adobe houses stood as dark testaments to the uncertainty of the coming night. Fireworks in the distance signaled the village fiesta on the opposite side of Belén, far enough not to disturb her sleep.
Straight ahead, Malinche rose in the distance, a massive triangular shape soaring above the horizon. Anna studied the volcano wondering how much the enigmatic woman of the mountain really knew about the valley over which she reigned. What secrets do you keep? she whispered, and do you share your knowledge with strangers from a foreign land?
Anna's sturdy walking shoes carried her over the rocky road to her front door. She picked up a few stones and tucked them into her pocket for protection against one of the nasty roof dogs roaming the village streets. Along the way she decided to stop at the home of her next-door neighbors, Marianna and David Portillo. Maybe David would walk her to her house so she wouldn't have to go in alone. Marianna won't believe the stories I have for her tonight, Anna thought, as she rapped on her neighbor's courtyard door. A feeling of foreboding swept over her and she glanced again at Malinche, but the volcano gave no sign, steadfastly maintaining her stony vigil over the sprawling valley at her feet.
Roseanna, the Portilla's youngest daughter answered the door. "Buenas noches, Maestra. ¿Cómo está?"
"Muy bien, Rosa. And you?"
"Very well, Maestra. Please come in."
Anna stepped into the courtyard as Rosa's mother came out the kitchen door wiping her hands on her apron. Overwhelmed by the events of the day, Anna dropped her backpack on the dirt and dissolved in tears in Marianna's outstretched arms. Marianna led Anna to the front room of their house attempting to calm her and learn the source of her distress.
"I'm sorry, but I've had a really bad day," Anna blubbered. She tried to stop crying, but a torrent of pent up emotions defeated every effort at self-control.
"Dear child, tell us what happened. . ."
"Yes, Maestra, please." David Portillo appeared looking concerned, "tell us what happened and how we can help. Has someone hurt you?"
Anna sat back on the narrow couch and blew her nose. Her muscles were aching and her head throbbed. David and Marianna, faces flushed with apprehension, sat opposite her in two straight-backed wooden chairs. Through the open door occasional cackles from the courtyard hens punctuated Anna's conversation with her neighbors. She struggled to maintain her composure as she related her day to the incredulous pair, the sequence of events already blurring in her mind as she described what happened in Cuamantla.
"It's a long story," she warned at the start, "but I'll try to shorten it as much as I can."
"Don't worry about that," David replied, "we have plenty of time."
"Yes," Marianna added, "what is time but a gift to be shared with friends?"
When Anna reached the point of saying her video might identify the murderer, David stopped her. "Maestra, you realize you may be in grave danger because of this?"
"I know. I told Miguel about it, and he said we'll talk more about it when he comes over later this evening. I'm not worried about my safety in Belén, but I am worried about tomorrow in Zocatlo and later, on our return to Cuamantla."
"Well, Miguel can't be with you every minute," David said, "and besides, why are you so trusting of Maestro Miguel? What do you know about him? And why should we trust you to his care? We don't know this man. Besides, why is he visiting you so late tonight? I don't like the sound of this."
"He's a student of Professor Fortin's," Anna said, concerned she'd opened a new can of worms, "and the Professor trusts him. Miguel's worked with Dr. Fortin for several summers."
David ignored her reassurances, "can you duplicate DVDs on your laptop, Maestra?"
"No. I don't have the right software and my laptop is so old, I'm not sure I could duplicate a disk even with new software."
"Then I have an idea for safeguarding your valuable evidence. A compadre of mine near Tlaxcala owns a computer store and he can duplicate your DVD in no time. Let me take the disk to his house tonight and ask him to make copies, which we'll keep in a safe place, and if you wish, I can accompany you to the State Police in the morning.
"That's a good idea," Anna said, even though she hesitated to hand over her precious property to anyone. In the end, she decided to trust David and his storeowner friend. "Do you think he'll duplicate this tonight? It's almost eight."
"Not a problem," David said. "His house is fifteen minutes away. I can be there and back by nine thirty even if I stay and enjoy a beer with my friend." He smiled for the first time since her arrival. "Don't worry, Maestra. I guarantee the security of this disk. Please promise me that you'll tell no one about the duplicates. Not even your friend Miguel."
Anna agreed, though she wasn't comfortable with the idea of holding back more information from Miguel.
"Bueno. I'll see you both in less than two hours," David said. "Maestra, may I suggest you remain here with Marianna until I return." David picked up his car keys from a shelf near the living room doorway, tucked the DVD into the inside pocket of his windbreaker and disappeared into the courtyard. Anna watched him leave with mixed feelings. Maybe she should have offered to go along.
Chapter 21
Marianna took Anna into the kitchen where she set out a platter of sweet rolls and poured two cups of Manzanilla tea already simmering on the stove. Images of saints and crosses covered the turquoise green walls of Marianna's humble kitchen, and unlike Anna's house or rather Art's house next door, the Portillo kitchen came equipped with an up-to-date refrigerator. Outside the house, a generator guaranteed a constant source of power during the sporadic electrical outages when the utility company fo
r reasons unknown to anyone, shut down electricity to the village.
"Maestra," Marianna asked in a low voice, "do you have any idea who killed the Director?"
"Not a clue," Anna said. "I wish I knew, and I worry whether anyone will ever know. How do the police in Mexico investigate crimes like this?"
"That's a difficult question, Anna. Each village is different in the way its officials conduct business. Every crime is unique and so each must be handled according to the special circumstances surrounding it."
"I understand what you're saying, Señora, but murder is murder. I mean, somebody shot the man through the head and disappeared into thin air. Surely, village officials take the crime of murder seriously and don't condone violent solutions no matter how egregious the problem."
"Well, from their point of view, murders are not all the same, as I'm sure they're not in your country. If someone threatens my life or the lives of my children, it's justifiable to use violent means to save myself and my children if that's my only choice."
"I agree, Señora, but I can't believe Pedro was murdered in self-defense. He was a con artist, not a killer. He made many enemies and I'm sure more than one person wished him dead, but that's a long way from actually killing the man."
"I'm not familiar with the details of Maestro Pedro's life or his murder," Marianna said, "but I'm aware of circumstances where the officials choose to ignore a crime and allow even a murderer to go unpunished. Knowing you took someone's life and living with that knowledge on a daily basis can be sufficient punishment for some people, especially if they acted on impulse or committed a crime of passion."
"My guess is this was an impulse killing," Anna said. "It had to be. No one could have known Pedro would be alone in the rose garden in the middle of a fiesta."
"That's a good observation, Maestra. Perhaps it's a revenge killing, particularly if as you say, the Director was unpopular in Cuamantla and wronged many people."
"Well, it's criminal if the village officials make no effort to solve this murder. What kind of example would that set for the children in the village? Especially when the murder occurred at the school. Don't you agree, Señora?"
"Yes, Anna, I do agree and I hope the authorities catch the person, especially because I want you out of danger. I'm worried you'll be caught up in matters that aren't your concern. Please leave this affair to those who are kinsmen of the Director. They'll decide what should be done to avenge his death. My advice is to turn over your video to the proper authorities tomorrow and let them handle the investigation. Concentrate on your research and leave well enough alone."
"I hear you, Señora, and I'm glad your spouse is duplicating my DVD so I have an extra to give the police. Once the video is in their hands I'll quit worrying about it. And now I need to go home, take a shower and change my clothes before Miguel arrives. Thanks again for your support, your advice, and your good food. I know everything will seem better in the morning, as my mother always tells me."
"Anna, I think you should sleep here tonight where I know you'll be safe."
"Thanks, Señora, but I'm not worried. Art's house is a fortress. The only window on the main floor is covered with bars, and the masses of bougainvillea across the top of the patio wall discourage anyone from climbing over. Those long sharp thorns are better than concertina wire." Anna knew she would sleep better in the quiet of her own room. Marianna's role as the village curer meant people came and went all hours of the day and night. She wouldn't sleep a wink if she stayed at the Portillo's.
"Miguel can visit you here, Maestra, if that's the problem."
Surprised at the implication of Marianna's suggestion Anna laughed and reassured her, both about her own safety and about her relationship with Miguel, until her friend finally relented.
"Okay, Anna, but I'll wait in the courtyard. Go inside and survey the house, then come up to the roof and let me know you're okay."
"Will do," Anna promised. "And will you ask David to bring over my DVD when he gets back?"
"Yes, Anna. Maybe he can change your mind about sleeping here after Miguel leaves." Marianna gave her a knowing smile, which Anna pretended not to notice.
"Please don't worry about me," she said, "I'll be fine. I talked with Malinche earlier. She said everything's fine and urged me to get a good night's sleep."
Chapter 22
Outside the Portillo's house, Anna stood for a minute surveying the porch light casting its beam across the short path to her front door. In her morning rush she'd forgotten to turn it off. Now she was glad for the illumination. She inserted her key into the rusty lock. The handle complained, releasing with a noisy clang that disquieted her. The front door opened easily if not quietly, and she squeezed herself into the house through as narrow an opening as possible. Everything gave her the jitters.
Unlike neighboring houses where front doors led into courtyards, Anna's front door opened directly into the largest room of the shotgun style house, Art's study. She reached over and flicked up the wall switch turning on the overhead light and breathing a sigh of relief. The ceiling fixture lit all three downstairs rooms assuring her of an empty house even if she couldn't see into every corner. Dropping her backpack on the desk she reflected on this most bizarre of days hoping the night would bring a calm close.
Before leaving the study she checked the bars on the only downstairs window. After securing the lock, she made her way through the bedroom switching on the courtyard light and lighting up the patio, the small yard, and the stairs to the roof. A steel rod anchored the metal courtyard doors in her bedroom making them impossible to open from the outside. She walked into the kitchen and checked the remaining door. Now for the bathroom and the room on the roof, she thought, lifting the bar on the kitchen door.
The outside bathroom shared a wall with the kitchen but opened off the patio. The arrangement gave rise to occasional encounters with a local possum on its nightly food reconnaissance missions. Meeting up with him in the middle of the night could be unnerving but she made a decision not to bother him if he didn't bother her.
Anna climbed the outside staircase to the roof and waved to Marianna who stood in the courtyard outside her kitchen door. Their adjoining houses stepped down the side of a steep hill, Anna's house situated below the Portillo's. The roof where Anna stood, rose only five or six feet above the Portillo's courtyard. On weekends she often sat on along the edge letting her legs dangle over the side while she visited with her neighbor.
"I'm fine, Señora, don't worry about me."
"Anna, please call down to me before you go to bed tonight so I know you're okay."
"I will, I promise."
Anna watched Marianna return to her kitchen. She would feel more secure if her cell phone worked in the house, but her telecom offered no service in Belén. She crossed the flat roof to the second floor bedroom at the front of the house. In the daytime, the room overflowed with sunlight and the large windows offered spectacular views of the volcano. Anna used the room as her writing place. Her only addition to the meager furnishings was a desk lamp to supplement the ceiling fixture with its one dim bulb. The air felt stale and she opened the window to the street letting in a soft breeze that freshened the room.
On her return downstairs, the moonlight and glare from the patio bulb provided a good view of the courtyard where she noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Back inside, she picked up her dirty clothes and tossed them into the wicker basket in the corner of the bedroom, filed the contents of her backpack and straightened her papers on the desk in the study.
Housework done, she collapsed on the bed with a novel by one of her favorite authors, Tony Hillerman. His detective Joe Leaphorn reminded her of her father. She hoped Lieutenant Leaphorn would keep her awake until Miguel arrived.
Chapter 23
Halfway into Chapter Two of The Shape Shifter with Lt. Leaphorn examining the Navajo rug photo and reminiscing about Rainbow Man, Anna heard a gentle rapping at the front door. Knowing David wouldn't have
returned this soon, she assumed Miguel must have skipped the fireworks display in Cuamantla. Her heart rate rose as she went to answer the door.
"Who is it?" she called through the crack between the doors wishing Art's house came equipped with a peephole. No answer.
"Who is it?" she said again. Hearing no response she hurried through the house and up to the roof where she could look down on the street. A glorious full moon lay low in the southeastern sky lighting the area around her house but she saw no one around. Whoever knocked on her door had disappeared. The crazies are out tonight, she thought, wondering if neighborhood children were playing games again. On weekends they sometimes knocked at her door only to run away when she answered.
Anna listened to the yapping of roof dogs from a cluster of small houses beyond her patio wondering if maybe a dog bumped against her front door, scratching its back on the rusty hinges. She stayed at the window surveying the neighborhood as the isolated barking ceased. The night turned still, punctuated now and again by the sound of distant fireworks. Fiesta activities had reduced traffic levels on the road in front of her house. In the distance, she could make out the dark outline of a couple and their burro moving in rhythm as they climbed the hill from the river, their shapes illuminated by the full moon. They were too far away to have knocked on her door.
Anna puzzled over the incident, trying not to let her imagination run wild again. It's another of the mysteries of life in this village, she thought, listening for additional clues that never materialized. Searching the area one last time she returned downstairs.
At the foot of the stairs she paused to admire the pretty courtyard, too small for chickens. In one of her recent letters home she mentioned the possibility of raising chickens, amused to think of her mother's reaction. An avocado leaf from the tree guarding the staircase brushed her cheek in the breeze and she reached up to pick it, biting off a small piece to chew. The slight anise flavor reminded her of her favorite licorice candy, the kind her father used to buy for her on his way home from work.
A Corpse for Cuamantla Page 8
