A Corpse for Cuamantla

by Harol Marshall

  "May I ask a favor, Commander? On our way to Cuamantla we pass by Belén. Would you mind stopping by my house so I can drop off these crutches? I really don't need them and they'll be a bother on the trip to Zocatlo."

  "Not a problem, Maestra. Besides, if you don't mind I can take a look at the crime scene from last night."

  "No problem, Commander."

  "Have you straightened up your house since last night's episode?"

  "Not exactly, but. . ."

  "There may be some remaining evidence then." Cortez adjusted the rear view mirror. Anna noticed the silver cross dangling from the mirror's support.

  "I don't know," she said. "As I told you earlier, I slept at my neighbor's house. Her husband and the neighbor across the street spent the night in my house. They straightened the desk a bit, but otherwise I think things are pretty much as the thief left them. He wasn't there long, so I doubt you'll find much in the way of serious clues."

  "But you won't object to my having a look?"

  "Of course not, Commander. I wasn't trying to discourage you only to lower your expectations. Whatever you need to do, I'll be glad to help." Anna realized she was rambling again and felt a blush spreading across her cheeks. If Commander Cortez noticed, he was polite enough not to let it show.

  "Bueno, Maestra, I appreciate your support. I promise to get you to Cuamantla on time," he said checking his watch. "We have a lot to do before you meet up with Miguel, and I have a few more questions, which we can address on the way."

  Anna enjoyed the new car smell and wondered where Cortez got the money for what was an extravagant purchase by Tlaxcala standards. She hoped he wasn't on the take or something, especially since Miguel attested to his honesty. She wanted him to be honest because she liked him and trusted him. Hadn't Miguel encouraged her to do that, despite his warnings that she was too trusting of people? After all, Commander Cortez was a State Police Commander. If you couldn't trust a police commander, she thought with some reservation, who could you trust?

  "Have you seen much of our countryside since you arrived in our fair state, Maestra?" Cortez asked, turning onto the Tlaxcala-Apizaco road.

  "I try to go somewhere new every weekend," she said, "and I've been here nearly six months, so I'm starting to know my way around, at least by bus."

  "I see. Well, some of the best places in Tlaxcala aren't served by buses. How about our beautiful waterfall have you visited there? No? It's very scenic, and quite the romantic spot, usually filled with lovers. Perhaps I can show it to you sometime. That is, if you're interested in beautiful scenery."

  The Commander was smooth, and good at talking while he drove. She was too monophasic to handle more than one task at a time. She hesitated before answering, choosing her words carefully. "I love nature and beautiful scenery," she replied, "it sounds like a place I'd like to visit before I return to the States."

  A sufficiently noncommittal response, she thought, congratulating herself on leaving only a vague opening. Besides, the Commander seemed to waste little time changing the tenor of their conversation once they left the confines of the police offices and she wasn't ready to encourage him. Oh well, she couldn't say Miguel hadn't warned her.

  Anna tried to put thoughts of Miguel out of her mind. It wasn't as though she and Miguel were dating. Not that she missed dating. Life in Mexico was always busy, and with yesterday's murder and the break-in at her house, there was no room in her life for romance even if a real date once in a while might be a nice diversion. Maybe that explained her romanticizing about Miguel. A date with the Commander could provide a nice change of pace, too, and permit an alternate perspective on her relationship with Miguel. She relied on Miguel, which worried her. Maybe the basis of her attraction to him was the result of dependence, she wasn't really sure.

  So many maybes in her life…

  Chapter 39

  Maestra, did you hear me?" Cortez repeated a question Anna missed, lost as she was in her own thoughts. "I suggested you might never return to the United States if you see enough of the beauty of my country. Is that a possibility?"

  "I'm sorry, Commander, I was watching the scenery and daydreaming. That's a question I've asked myself as well. I love Mexico, but I plan to return to the States. Home is home, and yesterday's events haven't helped change my mind, despite the beauty of your country and my attachment to the Mexican people."

  "I understand, Maestra, and I intend to apprehend the culprit or culprits quickly and put your fears to rest."

  "Culprits? Are you thinking more than one person may be responsible for Pedro's murder?" Anna sorted through the list of suspects, remembering about Francisco Sanchez and his two companions, and Yolanda and Tomás Bello, the teachers' union official. Maybe Bello and Yolanda were involved with each other and conspired to murder Pedro. That was a reasonable possibility if Miguel was correct about Francisco Sanchez and his friends.

  "My investigative strategy, Maestra, is to obey the rule of parsimony and target the obvious."

  "And the obvious is?" Anna wondered if his view of the obvious matched hers. Right now, she'd agree with María and bet on Yolanda, with or without Bello.

  "Those who last saw the victim, the young man Francisco and his friends from Mexico City," Cortez said, as if the matter were settled. "After I drop you off in Cuamantla, I'm driving to Francisco's house to question him, and probably place him under arrest for the murder of Pedro García."

  "Miguel will take issue with you, I'm afraid," Anna said without thinking. "He's fond of Francisco and says he's not capable of murder."

  "Everyone is capable of murder, Maestra. I'm capable of murder, Miguel is, even you, given the right circumstances. Francisco's friends look like a seedy pair to me. I wouldn't trust them based on what I saw on the video. Their body language told me they were up to no good. I've been a police officer for many years, Maestra, I know what guilt looks like."

  "You'd convict them of murder on the basis of body language?"

  "No, Maestra. That's not what I said. I'm suspicious of them on that basis. Their conviction if it comes, will be based on evidence. My responsibility is to collect that evidence and I have to begin somewhere. As I said, I begin with what is obvious to me, a strategy that's served me well in the past so I continue to use it even if it's not one hundred percent successful. In the case of a clever criminal, the obvious path may be the one the criminal chooses you to see. Other times, the strategy is wrong because of coincidences. The important point is to keep an open mind. Anyone could be guilty. Every human being is capable of unspeakable criminal acts. That's my personal belief, Maestra."

  "It's an interesting one," Anna replied respectfully, "but not one I share, though I agree with your investigative method. It's a lot like interpreting scientific findings, parsimony is a good strategy."

  "And what are your theories about the human condition, Maestra?"

  "I have more faith in the basic goodness of mankind."

  "On what do you base that faith, Maestra, if I may be so bold as to ask?"

  "Well," Anna thought for a minute, "I guess I base it on my own experience."

  "But your experience is limited, is it not?"

  "Everyone's experience is limited, isn't it? Even yours?"

  "Let me rephrase my question, Maestra. A middle class life in the U.S. exposes you to a biased slice of life. I expect few among your friends worry about their next meal, or whether they will be abused in the night, or whether the next day of their life is even worth living. That's what I mean."

  "And you, Commander? You've experienced this firsthand?"

  "Before you draw the wrong conclusion, Maestra," Cortez replied solemnly, "let me say that my belief in the immoral nature of the human race emanates not only from observing the behavior of common criminals, or the well-off who in my experience prove equally capable of inhumane behavior, just with less excuse. My belief comes from the fact that as a good Catholic, I suspect everyone."

  Anna was taken back. The Comm
ander's speech seemed out of character, incongruous with the portrait of a ladies' man painted by Miguel, or for that matter with her own conclusions about the man sitting beside her. They rode in silence for several minutes while Anna searched for an appropriate response. Cortez was the first to speak.

  "Ah, Maestra, I've offended you. I'm truly sorry. Sometimes I'm given to speeches, it's the Mexican way, you know. Also, so you better understand my views, I once studied for the priesthood. Perhaps that best explains my opinions and my approach to solving crimes."

  "The priesthood?" Anna knew her question was disingenuous, but she didn't want Cortez to question what Miguel might have told her.

  "Sí, Maestra."

  "Which you left after you were ordained?" She quickly apologized for her question. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

  "Not a problem. In fact, I resigned after serving three years as an ordained priest in a small village in Tlaxcala, not far from Cuamantla. There now, I've allowed you a glimpse into my soul. In return, I may someday request a glimpse into yours." He looked over and smiled at her.

  Chapter 40

  There it was again, the flirtatiousness. Miguel was right about him. Anna wondered if the Commander left the priesthood over a woman, a topic she wouldn't dare pursue. Fortunately, they reached the turnoff to Belén and she could change the subject. "This road leads to my house, but you'll need to drive slowly," she warned, "the street is paved with cobblestones as big as watermelons."

  "I'm familiar with Belén, Maestra," Cortez said, as the car jostled onto the bumpy surface. "I have a cousin who lives here, on the other side of the village away from the river. How far to your house?"

  "You can see it below on the left just before the second crest of the hill, the little turquoise house with the red brick wall."

  Cortez brought the car to a stop at her front door. Anna opened the door and got out before the Commander could get around to help. While he retrieved her crutches from the trunk, she fumbled with the lock on the front door. Eventually the door responded and they stepped into the darkness of the front room. Anna flipped on the light switch and went went through to the bedroom to open the patio doors. The doors swung into the room letting sunshine and warmth flood the house. Anna could sense Cortez standing behind her.

  "The view of Malinche from here is breathtaking," he murmured, moving into the doorway until he was directly beside her, the narrowness of the doorframe forcing their bodies to touch. Anna knew she should step out onto the patio, but her feet seemed welded to the floor. Commander Cortez looked down at her, "almost as lovely as you, Señorita." He should have stopped there but he didn't. "You have the most beautiful eyes."

  The compliment dramatically changed her mood. An unwanted giggle escaped from her lips and she stepped onto the patio to control herself. "I'm sorry, Comandante," she choked out the words as the perplexed Commander stood riveted in the open doorway. "I didn't mean to offend you, and I appreciate the compliment. I do, really. Please forgive me and promise not to repeat to Miguel what I am about to tell you. On our way to your office, Miguel warned me that a favorite line of the police is to tell a woman she has beautiful eyes. So when you complimented me, I could only think about Miguel's warning. I didn't mean to offend you, I'm sorry." She reached out her hand, which he took in both of his.

  After a momentary look of shock, the Commander laughed uproariously, promising of course to forgive her, "but Miguel? Never. Never will I forgive him for robbing me of a most beautiful opportunity. Will you forgive my impertinence?" He squeezed her hand before letting go.

  "Of course, Commander, but you surprised me. Especially," she added, "after admitting you were a priest."

  "I said I was a priest, Maestra, past tense. And, despite having been a priest, I never claimed to be a saint." Cortez laughed again. "I suggest we return to the task at hand. The day is wearing thin and Miguel will be angry with me if I fail to deliver you to Cuamantla soon. And Maestra, you do have beautiful eyes. That's not a compliment, it's the truth."

  "Thank you, Commander, I accept the compliment." Anna's smile lit up her face, an effect not lost on Cortez. "How about starting with the desk in the study?" They returned inside, Anna leading the way to Art's desk.

  "This is my thesis advisor's house, and I have access to every drawer except this locked one." She pointed out the large file drawer on the right hand side of the desk. "I keep my DVDs here." Anna opened the top drawer.

  "Please, Maestra, try not to touch anything more. I'll dust for fingerprints and the fewer smudged prints the better. We have a file on local criminals and maybe we'll find a match. Excuse me while I get my tools." Just like the FBI, Anna thought, watching Cortez return to his car through the open front door. Pesky images of Miguel popped into her brain.

  "Bueno, Maestra." Cortez began dusting a light blue powder over her desk. "I'll also have to fingerprint you in order to separate the prints." During a brief but meticulous evidence search, Anna walked Cortez through the scene of the night before. The Commander questioned her at every turn. Finally, when he seemed satisfied there was nothing more to learn, he took Anna's hand, kissed it formally, and suggested they continue their trip to Cuamantla.

  "Before we leave, Maestra, do you have an extra key to the house that you'd be willing to loan me? I may have to return here when you're away in Cuamantla or Zocatlo."

  "Sure, Commander." Anna retrieved the spare key from the top drawer in her lone kitchen cabinet and handed it to Cortez as they left the house. For the remainder of their trip to Cuamantla they talked about the scenery, and fiestas, and Mexican history. Cortez made no further mention of visiting the waterfall even as they passed the road leading to the falls. His mood had turned somber and Anna felt a little gloomy herself. Nearing Cuamantla, she asked him to let her out in front of the Church, saving her the embarrassment of exiting the Commander's car in front of Miguel and his colleagues. "I need to stretch my legs," she told him.

  As Cortez drove off, Anna stood by the Church watching his car disappear down the dusty Cuamantla road in the direction of the home of Fernando Sánchez, the Commander's number one suspect in the murder of Pedro García.

  Chapter 41

  Cortez peered into his rearview mirror and smiled to himself at the image of Anna standing by the side of the road watching his car drive away. Never hurts to leave them wondering, he thought, as he drove slowly in search of a local tienda.

  On a more sobering note, he worried about her and hoped she wasn't in danger traveling to Zocatlo. In all likelihood, Francisco Sánchez and his friends murdered Pedro, but at this stage in the investigation that conclusion was far from certain. Anyone on Anna's video might have killed Pedro, nearly all of whom would be in Zocatlo for the funeral, in proximity to Anna. If the killer turned out to be someone other than Francisco or his friends, and if that person believed Anna possessed incriminating evidence, then her life could be in jeopardy. Cortez trusted Miguel to watch out for her, but a sense of unease nagged at him despite his initial determination about who killed Pedro García.

  Shaking off his worries, Cortez pulled into one of the town's grimier stores, the one housing Cuamantla's telephone station since he was finding no reception on his cell phone. He placed a call back to his office. The news helped ease his concerns about Anna. Pedro's credit card report showed someone used it the previous night in Mexico City, at a restaurant and three bars. The District police were in contact with the Tlaxcala authorities and promised to work on the matter. Relieved that Anna appeared to be out of danger, and reassured he correctly identified Pedro García's murderers, José Cortez asked the store clerk about the family of Francisco Sánchez.

  "Do you know the Arnulfo Sánchez family?" he asked the elderly woman, showing her his credentials.

  "Sí, Comandante," she replied, openly pleased to help the handsome policeman.

  "Were you acquainted with the unfortunate School Director who died yesterday?"

  "Sí, Comandante." She smiled, showing
a mouth empty of most of its teeth. Cortez wondered how the poor woman could eat, though her skinny frame held a clue to the answer.

  "Are you aware of any relationship between the Sánchez family and the School Director?"

  "Sí, Comandante."

  "Please tell me about that relationship," he asked, offering her no opportunity for a yes or no response.

  "Sí, Comandante," she answered, a response that tried the Commander's famous patience. In greater detail than he expected, she went on to tell him of the feud between Francisco's family and the primary school Director. The problem, she noted with a sly smile, was the Director's illicit affair with Francisco's sister, the one who now lived in Mexico City with her husband and baby. The old woman was a veritable gold mine of information, interjecting details Cortez might have forgotten to ask, including directions to Francisco's house.

  So there it was—opportunity and motive. Malinche had smiled on him today. Life was good, and good to Anna whether she knew it or not. Yes, José Cortez would sleep easier tonight knowing that while the Maestra traveled to San Juan Zocatlo to attend Pedro's funeral, Pedro's murderer would be asleep, safely locked up in the Tlaxcala jail. All of his cases should solve themselves so easily, he thought, climbing back in his car for the short ride to the Sánchez home. Perhaps when he concluded this case, he might start thinking about a normal life, one that included a wife and family. He was reaching that stage where he wanted one woman in his life, someone who mattered to him as much as his mother mattered to his father.

  These were recent thoughts for Commander Cortez and he wondered what precipitated them. Ever since he left the priesthood, José felt his life was in disarray, and women were only one of his problems. He was restless, needing new experiences, excitement, hardly a fitting personality for a priest, though it explained the reasons he left the priesthood despite the heartbreak it brought his mother. Fortunately, his younger brother Manuel stepped up to the plate, entering the priesthood within a year of José's resignation.