A Corpse for Cuamantla

by Harol Marshall

  "The arrest didn't proceed as I expected it might, Maestra. I believe Miguel may be right about those boys. They were up to no good, but probably didn't murder Pedro. Before I continue, Maestra, you showed me a slit in your backpack. What happened?"

  "I was," she hesitated, embarrassed about the incident, "I was robbed, Commander. It happened in the zócalo right across from the church. A group of people took my wallet and the DVD. I don't know if they were after my money or the video."

  "Were you hurt?"

  "No, someone bumped into me and the rest came over to help, or so I assumed."

  "Hmmm. How many?"

  "A group of five or six, maybe seven, I'm not really sure. It's my own fault. My neighbor warned me about carrying my pack on my back, instead of in front of me. My driver's license and credit cards are back in the house in Belén, so I only lost a cheap wallet and a few pesos. I can't really remember how many people were in the group because it all happened so quickly and then they disappeared."

  "Melted into the crowd, right?"

  "Correct, Commander."

  "South American gypsies. That's how they operate. They travel to our country to prey on the tourists and old people. Your American looks made you a target, I'm afraid."

  "You don't think they were after my video?"

  "No, Maestra, I believe they wanted your money and took the DVD because it was there, perhaps hoping it contained a recent movie. The police will never recover either, which is why these thieving bands get away with so much. They steal small amounts and most people won't bother to waste time filling out the paperwork in order to file a complaint. Even if they did, the gypsies would be in another town before the police could begin looking for them. They are a blight on our landscape and I wish we knew how to stop them. Educating people seems to be our best strategy at the moment," he said, sounding a note of dismay at his own helplessness in the matter.

  Chapter 58

  Cortez took Anna by the elbow, steadying her progress along the bumpy cemetery road. "Let's discuss our other matter," he said. "You're a keen observer, Maestra, have you noticed anything out of the ordinary since you've been here? For example, your friends María and Juan, anything unusual there?"

  "I'm not certain what you're asking, Commander, but I know beyond a doubt neither María nor Juan had anything to do with the murder of Pedro." Anna decided against telling him about the window in María's classroom. She understood María could have flown into a rage over the morning scene between Pedro and Yolanda and murdered Pedro, but Anna dismissed the idea as ridiculous. María couldn't kill someone she loved. Crazy as it seems, she appears to have loved Pedro.

  "I believe you mean that you hope they aren't guilty, Maestra. Both have motive and without too much trouble, I believe I can locate them near enough to the murder scene to place them under suspicion. Your video shows Juan exiting the school just prior to the start of the parade. And his fondness for María makes him a legitimate suspect. Perhaps he wanted to remove a rival?"

  "I think if you really believed that, Commander, you would be talking with Juan and María right now instead of me."

  Cortez laughed out loud causing the mourners ahead to turn and glare. He apologized and lowered his voice. "You may be right, Maestra.

  "I can tell you about the rest of my day, Commander, if you'd like to hear about it."

  "I'm listening, Maestra."

  "The only information I picked up from the car ride was a short discussion between Miguel and Juan about Tomás Bello. They said they would put their money on Bello if Francisco and his friends weren't guilty, based on rumors they'd heard about a bribe scam involving teaching plazas. When the issue came up, María objected. She claimed Pedro was angling for a job with the Union and that Bello was his ticket. Besides, she said, she was certain Yolanda killed Pedro. In deference to María, both Miguel and Juan dropped the subject, so I never learned more."

  "Interesting, Maestra. I plan to have a talk with Bello. The rumors about purchasing second teaching plazas have been around for a while, but there's little we can do except encourage the education officials to put a stop to the practice. They regulate the jobs, so they would have to file a complaint in order for the police to become involved. I'm afraid the union officials and the education bureaucrats are often a law unto themselves. Tomás Bello is here today, correct?"

  "Yes, Commander. I noticed him in the Church earlier. I believe he's staying at a different hotel, since the four of us registered for the last two rooms in the hotel."

  "So, the four of you are staying together?"

  "Yes, María and I are together and Miguel and Juan."

  A small sigh escaped the Commander's lips, but Anna pretended not to notice. She told him about seeing the mystery man who kissed Yolanda in front of the church, news that surprised Cortez.

  "Could you see what he looked like, enough to recognize him again?"

  "I'm not sure," Anna said, "maybe. He was dressed like a cowboy." She tried to estimate his height and weight for Cortez.

  "And have you seen him at the funeral?" Cortez asked.

  "Well, I haven't really looked for him, but I expect he's here somewhere."

  "When we arrive at the cemetery, I want you to survey the crowd. He may be hovering somewhere near Yolanda, but maybe not. If you spot him, find me and let me know."

  "What do you mean find you? Where are you going?" The thought of being alone alarmed her.

  "I'll be nearby, don't worry," he said. "I need to catch up with Bello for a short chat. Nothing will happen to you among all these people. Don't wander away, that's all. Besides, I'll keep an eye on you."

  Cortez left, weaving his way through the throng of people. Anna followed his progress and watched as he approached Tomás Bello, tapping him on the shoulder and motioning him to the outer edges of the crowd. She wondered if Bello killed Pedro. She wouldn't be surprised, he seemed like a nasty guy from everything she'd heard about him. However, he wasn't the person who broke into her house, she was pretty sure. He was too big and too fat. The intruder was smaller and slimmer. Bello wouldn't have been able to move that fast. Maybe it was a local thief after all.

  Her nervousness at being left alone prompted her to move closer to the gaping hole in the ground that awaited Pedro's body. For a while, pandemonium seemed to reign. The Mariachis played the same tune over and over sounding like a stuck record, and despite Miguel's instructions and hand signals, the driver ran into problems trying to align the truck carrying the coffin. At some point, Miguel gave up and asked the pallbearers to remove the casket and carry it the necessary distance to the grave.

  Once they placed the flower-laden box graveside, four cemetery workers tied ropes around the box and lowered it into the grave. As the casket descended, Anna noticed Yolanda and her son step forward and fling a handful of dirt onto the top of the casket. Pedro's parents and others tossed in flowers, handkerchiefs, cigars, and what appeared to be a bundle of clothes, all resting on top of the coffin as it settled into the bottom of the pit. Finally, the workers removed the ropes and shoveled dirt into the grave while the priest intoned his prayers and reminded the crowd they were observing Pedro's second death.

  Chapter 59

  Anna moved to the front of the crowd surrounding the grave. The whole eerie scene frightened her. She'd lost sight of the Commander and her ankle throbbed as a result of the walk from the Church. Yolanda stood within a few feet of her when she noticed Art's student Rolando standing nearby. She headed over to talk with him. She would feel safer with someone she knew. Rolando hadn't noticed her and as she came up behind him he turned and moved off to the side of the crowd, but not before she noticed his cologne. Her heart raced as memories flooded her brain of the previous night's unwelcome guest at her house in Belén.

  Surely not, she thought. Why would Rolando break into her house? What would he want with the contents of Art's desk? It didn't make sense. Rolando had no reason to try and hurt her. He couldn't have been the intruder. Be
sides, any number of men wore the same cologne. She was letting her imagination run away with her again. But why was Rolando at Pedro's funeral? And why was he in Cuamantla around the time Pedro died? Too many disturbing coincidences. She needed to talk with Rolando, see if in the course of a normal conversation, she could detect anything suspicious in his behavior toward her, figure out if there was any way to determine whether he was her Belén burglar.

  Rolando seemed to be heading in Miguel's direction. Maybe he wanted to talk with Miguel, which would be good. She could walk up to the two of them, stand close enough to be certain of the cologne, but then what? She had no plan and she couldn't exactly come out and ask, ‘were you the thief who broke into my house last night and tried to hurt me?'

  Anna kept her eye on Rolando and on Miguel, the gap closing between the two men. She hurried to catch up but the crowd pressed in, adding their donations to the grave. She could see Miguel on the opposite side of the funeral truck as Rolando ducked behind the truck and she noticed something else—his tan cowboy clothes. The boyfriend. Rolando was Yolanda's boyfriend, the man who waited for her outside the church and who kissed her as she got in the car. Anna never recognized him from the hotel window because the cowboy hat hid his face. Things were beginning to make sense.

  Anna limped along the side of the truck and turned the corner, balancing herself against the corner of the truck bed. As she did, a ring of fear constricted her throat. Standing in front of her, hidden from the crowd and blocking her way, stood Rolando.

  "We meet again, Maestra," he said. "I have the feeling you're following me, is that true?"

  "I'm surprised to see you here, Rolando. I was trying to catch up with you to say hello and let you know that Art is arriving in Tlaxcala tomorrow."

  "I'm sorry to miss him, but I'll be leaving Mexico tomorrow, I'm afraid."

  "Leaving? Where are you going if you don't mind my asking."

  "Why would I mind?" Rolando's smile sent chills through her. She tried not to shiver. "I'm leaving for Spain on a study grant." He leaned against the truck and the taillights glinted off his spurs. Anna put her hand in her pocket and fingered the serrated edge of the silver disk she found on María's classroom floor. A bolt of fear shot through her, but she had to know the truth.

  "Why did you break into Art's house last night? Looking for money for your trip to Spain?"

  "I don't know what you're talking about, Maestra."

  "You will," she said, starting to leave.

  "Allow me to give you some good advice, Maestra, advice that might save your life. Concentrate on your research and keep your nose out of other people's affairs."

  Anna attempted to push past him, but her sore ankle slowed her movements. Rolando reached out for her arm and missed, catching her leg with his foot and tripping her so she fell headfirst into the soft dirt. Lying on the ground, his boot only inches from her face, Anna stared hard at his spurs knowing she was staring at the feet of Pedro's killer.

  She had to get away from him. She lifted herself from the dirt wondering if the arrogant cowboy standing over her had ever seen a Kali match, one with female combatants, for example. Anna struggled to her feet moaning and holding her arms across her stomach pretending to be hurt. As she stood, she turned her body away from him concentrating on her balance knowing she had the advantage of surprise.

  In an instant, she swiveled and caught him across the nose with her right arm, hooking his neck with her left. Rolando cried out in pain and crumpled over. As he fell, she grabbed his head, driving her right knee into his face, assuring a broken nose if the first blow hadn't successfully debilitated him.

  Rolando lay on the ground doubled in pain, cursing at the blood spurting from his nose. Anna felt an unexpected sense of calm come over her. She watched dispassionately as blobs of maroon mud formed in the dirt around his head. Moving away from him, she struggled to keep down her lunch as she reached the side of the truck and bumped straight into Miguel rounding the corner.

  "Are you okay?" he asked, grabbing her by the shoulders and gazing in stunned disbelief at the cowboy rolling on the wet earth spewing expletives as spasms of pain wracked his head. "I think I have more to learn about you, Maestra," Miguel said.

  "As do I," Cortez added with a congratulatory grunt as he appeared on the opposite side of the truck.

  "Where were you two when I needed you?" Anna asked, her knees so weak she worried whether she could stand without assistance.

  Chapter 60

  Cortez bent down and fastened a hammerlock on Rolando, dragging him to his feet. Miguel put his arms around Anna and brushed the dirt off her face and clothes, swearing a blue streak at the young man standing in front of the Commander, something about cowboy boots and what he might do with them.

  "Are you okay, Maestra?" Cortez asked, endeavoring to keep a grip on the moaning cowboy. "Although perhaps I should ask the question of our friend here," he added with a tight-lipped smile.

  "Yes, Commander, but please don't let him get away. I know who he is. His name is Rolando Muñoz, and he's the one who broke into my house last night. And something else, Commander, I have proof he was inside the school on the day of Pedro's murder. This morning, in María's classroom, I found a piece of jewelry near the window." Anna reached into the pocket of her jeans and brought out the silver disk. "I put this in my pocket intending to show it to you in case it was evidence, but I forgot."

  Anna rattled on spurred by an adrenalin rush. "Just now, when I was on the ground, I noticed a piece missing from one of his spurs and it's identical to this one in my pocket. Also, that spur could only have been left in the classroom sometime yesterday or early this morning, otherwise the janitor would have swept it away. Please check his boots, Commander. You'll see it's a match." Anna stopped to catch her breath and bent to massage her sore ankle.

  "Let me go," Rolando shouted, straining to free himself from the Commander's grip. "She doesn't know what she's talking about."

  José Cortez raised his gun to the struggling man's head, suggesting he calm down unless he wished to join Pedro in the nether world. "Miguel, give me a hand here," Cortez tipped his head to the right. "I have a pair of handcuffs on my belt behind my back. Grab them and slip them around the wrists of our friend here." Rolando cursed and wrenched his body forward. "I really wouldn't do that if I were you," Cortez warned. "There are worse things than dying amigo, such as dying slowly, which I can arrange for you."

  Hard to believe this Commander was once a priest, Anna thought, as she watched Miguel handcuff Rolando's wrists while Cortez kept the gun pressed to his temple.

  "Let's have a look at those spurs," Cortez said.

  Anna removed the serrated disk from her pocket and handed it to Cortez who bent down to examine the spurs. The disk fit perfectly into the empty slot.

  "So, amigo," Cortez lowered his voice, "one of your spurs is missing its rowel. I believe you'll have a difficult time explaining to a judge how a rowel from your spur materialized at the scene of a murder in Cuamantla."

  Anna admired how deftly Cortez corrected her terminology. The small piece of serrated jewelry is a rowel, she thought, unfamiliar with spur technology. Well, Cortez should know, he grew up on a ranch.

  "Let me go, who do you people think you are?" Rolando shouted, ignoring the implications of Anna's evidence.

  Cortez replied in the same calm voice. "I'm Commander José Cortez Castillo of the Tlaxcala State Police, and I'm arresting you for the murder of Maestro Pedro García Hernandez-Barrera, in the village of Cuamantla, municipio of Cuamantla San Felipe." Cortez turned back to Miguel. "Now then, let's hoist our friend onto the back of the truck for safekeeping. We'll need to borrow a length of rope from the gravediggers and tie him up for the ride to police headquarters."

  "Not a problem, Comandante," Miguel said, hurrying over to the workers shoveling dirt into Pedro's grave. Miguel returned with a length of rope. "It's a little thick, but it'll serve the purpose." He jumped onto the back of the truck
and tied Rolando's legs and feet. For additional security he drew the rope up over Rolando's waist and wrapped it again, tying the loose end to a stanchion on the side of the truck. Cortez folded a blanket from the truck bed to form a pillow and laid it under his suspect's head and covered him with a second blanket. Anna was struck by the contrast between this act of kindness and his earlier words to his prisoner.

  A crowd of curious onlookers assembled near the rear of the truck, but Cortez showed his credentials and shooed them off, reminding everyone to return to the ceremony and show their respects to Pedro. Anna glanced back at the gravesite where Pedro's father and one of the pallbearers pushed two huge four-foot candles into the dirt covering the grave. The men lit the candles with cigarette lighters as one of the women came forward and placed a large bucket of flowers between the burning candles.

  "Good-by, Pedro García," Anna murmured.

  Chapter 61

  Miguel, please ask the truck driver to take us to the police station at the corner of the zócalo," Cortez said from the bed of the truck. "You and I can ride back here and guard our prisoner, and the Maestra can sit up front."

  "Not a problem, Comandante," Miguel said, helping Anna climb into the cab. The driver's side door opened and a short dark man of indeterminate age climbed in. Miguel stood by the door to introduce him.

  "Maestra, Señor García."

  "Buenas tardes, Señor," Anna said.

  "Buena' noche', Maestra," the man answered, fidgeting with the key to start the truck.

  I hate when they do that, Anna thought, correcting me about the time of day when the creeping darkness hadn't quite completed its journey. The driver turned on the headlights as if to prove his point and jolted the truck forward.

  Anna searched for the non-existent seat belts, grabbing onto the door-rest to prevent a collision between her head and the dashboard. I know a restaurant in Los Angeles that could use this truck, she thought, it's worse than their bronco rides. The truck bounced along the narrow cemetery road contending with rocks and ruts before laboring onto the street in its determined effort to reach town. Anna tried to see Miguel and the Commander through the small back window but the dusty glass revealed only hazy shadows.