"You did what?" Miguel covered his face with his hands. "Please, Anna, if you're trying to calm me down, this is not the way to do it."
"I don't know how to explain what happened last night without everything sounding worse than it really was." She gave him the shortened version, ending with, "so I hit him with my Kali baton. He let go of my ankle, and I ran across the roof and jumped into the Portillo's courtyard, and that's really all there is to say."
"That's a frightening story, Anna. My heart is pounding listening to you. I'm glad you're all right, but why didn't you stay at your neighbor's house last night as we agreed?"
"Well, you agreed. I never really promised. Actually, I felt safer in my own bed. Turns out I was wrong. I still don't know how the intruder got in except he must have climbed over the wall despite the thorns on the bougainvillea and then entered the house when I went upstairs to retrieve my book. I never thought anything would happen to me in Belén. Anyway, after the thief left, David stayed at my house."
She stopped to take a breath and corrected her last statement. "Well, he didn't stay with me, I slept next door. Another neighbor stayed at my house with David in case the intruder returned, but he didn't. Then this morning Marianna wrapped my sore ankle and David took me to see the Belén Comandante to file a report about the break-in. And, also, I forgot to tell you last night but David made two copies of my DVD, so I can leave one with your police friend when we meet with him after breakfast."
She hesitated for a minute, realizing she'd just broken her promise to David, but David would understand. She knew she could trust Miguel, and if she argued with David about the matter he would only think her ungrateful. She took a deep breath, "And, that's all there is to the story." For the first time since they met, Anna witnessed a speechless Miguel.
Chapter 31
Miguel sat at the table staring at Anna while the waiter stood patiently by.
"May I take your order?" he inquired again.
Miguel roused himself with a long sigh. "While I collect my thoughts and try to calm myself, Anna, why don't you go ahead and order. I've eaten here many times and the eggs rancheros platter is my favorite." After the waiter left, Miguel reached over and placed his hand over hers. "I don't know if I'm more angry with you or with myself," he said, "for placing clean clothes and a shower ahead of your safety last night. I won't forgive myself for leaving you alone and I may not forgive you for ignoring my advice about your own safety."
"Miguel, please. Let's call it a wash and start over. I can take care of myself and if I thought I was in danger last night I would have insisted you stay with me or I would have spent the night next door. Now, let's put the night behind us and concentrate on the day ahead. I want to forget about the whole business."
"Okay, Anna," he said, softening his tone, "I'll forgive you as long as you allow me to remember at least some parts of last night, agreed?" He smiled as though they shared a secret. So, he really did kiss me on the ear last night. She gave his hand a squeeze. Noticeably relieved, Miguel held onto her hand refusing to let go while he peppered her with questions, back to his old self, wanting to know every grim detail of the previous night. He asked several times about the identity of her attacker and how much she could see of him.
"He had a bandana over his face and wore a cap on his head," she said. "Even in the bright moonlight, I couldn't have recognized him and I wasn't trying. I just wanted to get away, but I remember his cologne. The scent wasn't one I recognized, but I'd know it again in a heartbeat. I'm very good at remembering odors."
"That may be important, Anna. The bandana suggests he thought you might recognize him if you saw his face. He may be someone we know. I don't like that idea. How many people from Cuamantla know where you live?"
"Only you and María as far as I know."
Miguel sat quietly for the next few minutes. Anna wondered what he was thinking.
"I'm particularly concerned that he tried to hurt you, although it won't happen again, I assure you. I'm not letting you out of my sight until this hoodlum is found. Ah, here's our food. Everything looks good," he said, as the waiter arranged the lavish plates on the colorful tablecloth. "Let's eat so we can get to work finding this despicable person who murdered Pedro and tried to hurt you."
"We don't know at this point if they're one and the same," Anna said, breathing in the steam rising from the platter in front of her. "Mmm, this smells so good. I love the smell of cilantro. To me, it's the essence of Mexico."
"Eau de cilantro. Maybe we can bottle it and earn a fortune in the U.S." Miguel joked, adding a large spoonful of salsa verde to his tortilla before rolling it up. "I'm afraid it won't sell well in Mexico, though."
Anna told him the idea had potential. He laughed harder, finally relaxing after the stress of Anna's news from the previous night. Near the end of their meal, the watchful waiter hurried over offering more tortillas or coffee. Miguel told him they were finished and ready for the bill.
"Right away," the young man replied, adding more coffee to their cups anyway.
Miguel reached over for Anna's free hand. "Anna," he said somewhat awkwardly, "I care very much about what happens to you and I want you to know that."
Her heart leapt into her throat. She wasn't sure how to respond but decided honesty was the best policy. "Miguel, I do know and I believe I know what you're trying to tell me. I'm a little frightened to talk about my feelings right now, but at some point I hope I can do that. For the time being, can we acknowledge that we care and let the future work itself out? We have some serious business to settle over the next few days."
"I hear you, Anna, and I'll try to hold my feelings in check until you let me know differently. It's nearly nine o'clock and the library opens in a few minutes, are you ready to leave?" Miguel counted out pesos onto the tray holding the breakfast check.
"Sí, vámanos," she responded, reaching for her backpack and crutches. "I really would like to walk without these, they hurt my arms."
"I'll carry them for you." Miguel reached around for the crutches. "If you need them, let me know. For now, take my arm, if that helps."
"It helps," she said, wrapping her arm around his.
"If your ankle were normal, we'd walk the few blocks to the Biblioteca, but let's not take the chance. We have a long day ahead." Miguel guided her to the taxi stand across the street and opened the back door of the last cab in line helping her inside. He passed the crutches over before striding around to the other side and climbing in beside her.
"Biblioteca Casa Tlaxcala, San Idelfonso numero 40, por favor," he said, shutting the taxi door and adjusting his frame into the tight confines of the back seat. The driver, expecting a longer ride with a higher fare turned around to argue, but Miguel cut him off with the promise of a good tip. "And you'll be back here waiting for another fare in five minutes," he told the driver. "Besides, there are a lot of cabs in front of you. You might as well get paid to wait."
Both men laughed as the driver pulled away from the curb. Even with traffic and one-way streets, they arrived in less than two minutes. Miguel kept his bargain about the tip, refusing any contribution from Anna. The pleased driver wished them a pleasant day and drove back to the zócalo, probably hoping for more fares like this one to help wile away the time.
Chapter 32
Inside the library, Miguel reserved the small atelier that housed a large TV and two DVD players, one of which could play Anna's mini DVDs. They signed up for an hour, more time than their tight schedule allowed. Anna settled into one of the heavy Spanish chairs and dug out the disk for Miguel who popped it into the player, both of them anxious to review her shots from the previous day. Miguel suggested they take notes separately, compare their notes then return to the beginning for a second viewing if necessary. She noticed Miguel's hand shaking slightly as he pushed the play button.
The colorful scene unfolded and Anna congratulated herself on her newly developed video skills. The camera panned slowly across the mosaic
of the zócalo pausing briefly as Malinche came into view with the small red dot moving down the Tetla road. At that point, the video switched to a shot of Pedro García crossing the street for what would be his last time, entering the fateful rose garden beside the school. A knot formed in Anna's stomach as she watched him disappear around the corner of the school building. An audible groan escaped from Miguel's lips and he reached forward to stop the DVD player.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this, Anna?" he asked, looking distressed. She sat with her head bowed for a few seconds.
"Yes, Miguel. We have no choice." He flipped the switch again and they watched the camera pan the crowd. In the background behind the crowd, Anna noticed Miguel following Pedro into the rose garden, exiting a short time later. She was stunned. She never remembered seeing Miguel in her viewfinder. Why had he neglected to tell her he talked with Pedro behind the school? She didn't know what to say and Miguel never reacted.
Neither of them spoke for the next ten minutes as the video wore on and they took notes. The camera angle changed to show close-ups of Miguel standing at the head of the parade, and this time Anna reached out to stop the player, slightly embarrassed at the amount of time her camera spent on Miguel.
"From here on," she said, "the video concentrates on the parade. I doubt there'll be any information pertinent to Pedro's murder. Should we compare notes now, or review the video again?"
"No need to review it again on my account," Miguel said. "Want to read your list first?"
"Sure. The first person on my list is Yolanda…"
Miguel interrupted her. "I should be the first person on your list. I caught Pedro as he entered the rose garden to tell him we were ready to begin. He asked me to hold off the start for another ten minutes while he attended to a couple of urgent matters. He never said what they were and I didn't think to question him. Even if I had, I doubt he would have told me. I never expected him to spend more than the usual few minutes in the rose garden."
"How come you never mentioned it to me? About seeing Pedro in the rose garden, I mean?"
"I can't really say, Anna, except that with everything going on I didn't think of it until this morning and by then I decided to wait until we saw it on your video. I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I promise."
Anna tried not to be distressed. She believed Miguel, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind made her regret ignoring David's advice about the duplicate DVDs. Most of all, however, she regretted the fact that circumstances led her to suspect her two best friends of involvement in Pedro's murder.
"You do believe me, don't you Anna?" Miguel asked, as they continued discussing the names of everyone appearing on Anna's video.
"I do, Miguel," she said, trying to hide any sign of uncertainty, "and for that reason, I think we should omit your name from our suspect list. It doesn't make sense since so many people saw Pedro after you did. Besides, there's no way you could have been the person who broke into my apartment last night, I would have recognized your cologne," she added with a grin.
Miguel smiled at the admission. "Well, I suggest we keep my name on the list, particularly because the police will wonder why we omitted it when they review the video."
"Okay, if you insist," she said, checking over her list. "After Yolanda, I have Tomás Bello. Interesting that he and Yolanda entered the garden together, but Yolanda came out first, quite a bit ahead of Bello."
"I noticed that, also, which raises a number of questions. Was Pedro alive when Yolanda left? If so, what about when Bello left?"
"My questions exactly," she said. "Next, I have three young men, none of whom I recognize. One waits outside while the other two go in, then a short time later, he follows, almost as if he were standing watch. Do you recognize them?"
"Yes," Miguel murmured. "I know two of them, but not the third. He mustn't be from Cuamantla. What disturbs me is that I know these boys well and neither could have murdered Pedro, despite possibly having motive. They're good boys if a little wild at times. The short one is Francisco Sánchez and the good looking one is his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Diego Mejía."
Anna recognized the names, the brother and boyfriend of Olivia Sánchez, the young woman who accused Pedro of fathering her child. She wondered whether Diego and Olivia were married. Legal relationships were often confusing but so were a lot of relationships between the villagers and the laws of the land. "They do meet the two criteria for suspects," she said, "motive and opportunity."
"So now you're a detective, Maestra?"
"Well, don't you agree?" Anna asked in response to his teasing.
"I agree they meet your two criteria, Anna, but only those two. I know them well and they're not murderers. They come from old respected families in the village. No one will enjoy seeing these boys fall on hard times. The village will protect and defend them, especially in this case where the victim is an outsider the villagers disliked. Pedro made many enemies in his short time in Cuamantla. The barrio leaders may decide that justice was served, especially if these boys come under suspicion." Miguel finished his speech and stared across the room fixing his gaze on the plaster bust resting below the room's one narrow window.
"I can think of at least two possible alternatives," Anna said. "Just because they were the last people to emerge from the rose garden, doesn't mean they were the last ones to see Pedro, or that they murdered him. He could have been dead when they got to him. The video shows them leaving in a hurry looking frightened. You might expect the same reaction if they witnessed the murder happen or encountered a murdered man. I'm afraid the video says nothing about when the murder occurred."
Miguel looked at her with a slight smile. "You should be studying law, Anna." He reached over and removed the DVD. "Are we done here?"
"Yes," she said. "I think the police will be pleased that we've done so much of their work for them."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Anna. They might wish we'd left well enough alone."
Part III. Enter Cortez
Chapter 33
Anna and Miguel stepped from the athenaeum darkness into the bright sunshine of the bustling Tlaxcala morning. Both adjusted their sunglasses. Miguel held Anna's crutches under his arm.
"Do you want these, Anna?"
"No, thanks. It's easier for me to limp along than try to manipulate those wobbly things." She paused on the top step of the library surveying the city and trying to collect her bearings. "I remember seeing a police station a few blocks from here. Is that where we're headed?"
"No, that's the city police." Miguel pointed to the hills south of Tlaxcala. "We'll have to take a taxi. The State and Federal police headquarters are up the hill past the University of Tlaxcala main campus, too far to walk. I'll whistle a cab."
By the time they reached the sidewalk a taxi waited. In less than ten minutes they were at the main entrance of the Tlaxcala State Police headquarters checking in with the guard. He asked for identification and whether they had an appointment. Miguel told him they wished to see Comandante Cortez and explained why there was no time to call ahead. The diffident guard pointed them to the sign-in sheet while he called the Comandante's office.
"You're lucky," he said, "the Comandante is in and will see you." He reached for the box of visitor's passes. While they waited for their escort the guard selected two passes, carefully matching the colors of the badges to their clothing, much to Anna's amusement. She hung the turquoise pass around her neck and followed Miguel and their escort down the ramp and across a small courtyard toward a modern white stucco office building. Small citrus trees dotted the courtyard, tempting passersby with their ripe fruit.
"I wonder who gets to eat these grapefruits and oranges," she asked Miguel.
He laughed. "Probably the Regional Commander, or more likely, his wife," he said, causing the guide to turn and smile his agreement. "So, Maestra," Miguel whispered, "I'll be interested to hear your reaction to this experience."
"Are you neglecting to tell me
something? That they torture gringas here?"
"I have nothing to say on that score," Miguel paused for effect, "other than the police in Tlaxcala are very amicable, that much I can assure you."
"In other words, I've nothing to worry about."
"That's not what I said, Señorita," Miguel teased, "the police are a friendly bunch, especially when it comes to attractive women with beautiful eyes."
"I think I understand," Anna said, turning over the compliment in her mind as they approached the headquarters building. "I hope you plan to accompany me throughout this interview."
"I do," he assured her, "but Commander Cortez may have other ideas. I'll do what I can."
The thought of sharing yesterday's traumatic events with a complete stranger disagreed with her. Miguel's presence would help her over the rough spots. She hoped the Commander wouldn't dismiss him.
"Perhaps you could be my interpreter," she ventured, "in case the Commander asks to speak with me alone. You could explain that I speak Spanish poorly and in matters of such importance we need to assure an adequate translation." She looked up at him finding it easier to maintain her composure if she avoided looking into his eyes. Instead, she focused on his left cheek, but then her thoughts strayed to his high cheekbones and the beautiful caramel color of his skin. She needed to get a grip on her emotions. Maybe her behavior was some kind of post-traumatic stress syndrome as a result of yesterday's trying events.
Miguel interrupted her daydreams. "Your plan sounds good," he said. "However, you'll need to struggle with the language in your explanations. Try not to forget yourself and begin blurting out your story in rapid-fire Spanish. The police are very good at their jobs. Don't underestimate their relaxed informality."
"I'll remember," she promised. "Also, I think we should point out the fact that you were at my house last night before the break-in. I mean that makes you something of a witness, doesn't it?"
A Corpse for Cuamantla Page 11
