by Jerold Last
Bruce returned saying, "All clear."
Jose continued, "About a month ago we started having small problems here. Low-level dealers were being mugged and their merchandise and cash were taken, seemingly at random but by someone who knew where they were going to be, when they were going to be there, and who they were. Once or twice it was a mid-level dealer and the losses were significant. We knew there was a serious leak in our organization. Andres assigned me the job of finding who it was. We identified a couple of the hoodlums involved in the muggings who were just hired muscle and questioned them, but that was a dead end. They were hired through blind drops and anonymous payments so they had no idea who was giving them their orders and the inside information. That's about all that I know for sure. Would you like to know what I think?"
"I'd like to hear your theories very much."
"Whoever it is pulling the strings did a very careful job of protecting their identity. Nobody has any idea of who it actually is. That suggests a few possibilities to me to narrow things down. First, they almost have to be Uruguayan. I can't think of any reason why a Chilean or an Argentine drug gang would worry about staying anonymous. Quite the contrary, they would be hiring our labor force away from us and working on assimilating our business rather than destroying it. Second, the elaborate precautions to prevent anyone knowing who they are suggests that this could be just one person, without their own gang, trying to manipulate our organization to get whatever it is they want. All of the secrecy suggests to me that they are operating from a position of vulnerability if anyone knew who they were."
Jose stopped and looked me in the eye. "You are going to do whatever you think you must do. I've tried to cooperate as much as I could, as I was ordered to do. I've told you all I know and what I suspect. My fate is in your hands. I assume that offering you money won't change anything. I will also offer my full cooperation on this matter in the future, since I continue to assume we are all trying to solve the same problem here."
"Jose, I think this is your lucky day. We may be back to take you up on the offer of cooperation, but I think you've answered my question adequately, at least for now. Montevideo is a small enough city that you could probably find us if you had the resources and looked hard enough. I strongly suggest that you don't even try."
"Don't worry. The fact that you were able to find me in the first place scares me enough to keep me from thinking about reprisals. You obviously have some interesting and powerful connections that know the players in our local drug industry. I hope I never see you or hear from you again. If I do I will keep my word and cooperate completely as long as the only issue is finding the murderer of Andres Sanchez."
We left the apartment without any further discussion until we were on the street walking towards the car.
"Frankly, Bruce, I've had enough killing for one day. I'm kind of glad that things worked out the way they did with Jose Escobar."
"Whatever," replied Bruce, "I'm looking forward to the next time you want to invite me for a play date. You live an interesting life. I hadn't realized until now how interesting it is."
"We have the car and nobody will be back from their assignments for several hours, Bruce. Would you like to do something touristic with me to kill the rest of the day? It will give us a chance to get to know each other better."
"Sure. Do you have any suggestions, Roger?"
"How about lunch at the most typically touristic place in Montevideo and a visit to whichever you prefer, either Punta del Este, playground of the rich, or Colonia del Sacramento, the oldest city in Uruguay?"
"Sounds good to me. And I'd prefer Colonia, including the cheese industry tour in Colonia Suiza if we have enough time."
"It sounds like you've been reading up on what to see and do in Uruguay, Bruce."
He smiled, and we were off to play tourist for lunch and the afternoon. For lunch we shared the parrillada compleada at a restaurant in the crowded Port Market. Loosely translated, the complete parillada is all of the pieces of a cow barbecued over a wood fire and served on a large platter. Several different kinds of steaks, several types of sausages, and the internal organs like liver, kidney, heart, thymus, and intestine are all featured au naturel. No barbeque sauces, marinades, rubs, catsup, or other seasonings except salt are allowed. If you are in the know, you can order a side dish of chimichuri along with all of the beef, an herbal mixture with lots of garlic used as a condiment to complement the beef. This zillion-calorie experience with beef is guaranteed to increase your blood cholesterol level enough to condemn you to a lifetime of statin drug use, but it really tastes good as only free-range beef is used. There wasn't a whole lot of discussion over lunch except about what tasted best and what the Spanish words for the various cuts of beef were. Conspicuous by its absence on the huge platter of cow parts was the choicest cut of all, the lomo. I suggested to Bruce that he specifically order some lomo at the next opportunity that he had to do so.
We left the restaurant, vowing to never eat again, and drove on the main highway to Colonia, an hour or so west from the outskirts of Montevideo. Suzanne and I had been there while we were investigating a murder case we were involved in after we discovered a woman's dismembered body along the Rambla the previous year. Colonia del Sacramento is the northern terminal for the high-speed ferry across the Rio de la Plata to Buenos Aires.
Bruce and I wandered the cobbled streets of the ancient Portuguese fortress city that dominated the river during the 16th and 17th centuries. During our walk Bruce quizzed me about what my work was like in Los Angeles, and what I had done before becoming a private detective. I realized with a jolt of surprise that the topic had never come up before. I guess the whole male bonding thing was finally starting to happen. I thought about it for a bit and decided that Bruce would do very well as a new addition to the relatively small list of close friends I had when we got back home. Apparently, there was nothing like collaborating on three murders and a huge shared platter of grilled beef parts for lunch to jumpstart the process of male bonding.
After we walked off part of the enormous lunch, we drove for about twenty minutes to the north to visit the Swiss enclave of Colonia Suiza, center of the cheese industry in Uruguay. We saw how various cheeses were made from milk from contented cows and tasted several varieties. Both of us gave two very big thumbs up to several different varieties of the hard cheeses in the Italian style, like Parmesan and Romano, but much more flavorful and easier to eat as sliced cheeses because they weren't as hard as the cheeses we usually grate and put over pasta in the U.S.
We headed back to Montevideo in the middle of the afternoon with a tacit agreement not to discuss the case until we reconnected with the rest of our team back at the hotel.
Chapter 15. The search for Mr. X
Our timing was very good. Everyone else was already back to the hotel and had been waiting for us for just the last half hour or so. Robert was taking his afternoon nap and shouldn't have any needs for the next hour or two. We said our hellos, opened a convenient bottle of scotch provided by Eduardo, poured some into glasses provided by the hotel, and sat down to debrief.
Martin and Suzanne were up first, with Suzanne excitedly taking the lead.
"Bernardo Colletti was a little upset when we pulled him out of the ER, but he got over it real fast when Martin offered him the choice of chatting over a cup of coffee at a restaurant a couple of blocks from the hospital or in an interrogation room at the Central Police Station. We explained that there had been a murder and several assaults associated with our meeting with Andres Sanchez that he had arranged, and that we were trying to find out the source of the leak about our true identities. Martin told him with the utmost sincerity that he was not a suspect. Then he asked Bernardo whether it was possible that he had mentioned something, however innocently, to anyone else about us? He denied the possibility and pointed out that as an informant of Martin's for a very long time he knew how to keep secrets.
"What's your opinion, Martin? Can
we believe him?"
"I think so," replied the policeman. "After all of these years I think I can read him well enough to know when he's lying or holding something back, and I didn't get any of those vibes when I was interrogating him."
"I agree." said Suzanne. "Our next stop was for lunch. Then we visited Graciela Sanchez at her apartment. She was a gracious hostess, served coffee and dessert, and seemed to answer Martin's questions without hesitation. She claimed that she never interfered in Andres' business, would never tell anybody who the people were that came to visit the apartment, and didn't mention our visit to anybody. Given the timing of the car following Roger and Eduardo from the Pocitos apartment and Bruce's and my attempted mugging on the street behind the hotel immediately after I came back from the meeting, I'm inclined to believe her. Everything points to the leak having occurred before the meeting, not after it. And she shouldn't have known about our meeting until after we were introduced that morning unless the whole meeting was an elaborately choreographed charade. What was your reaction, Martin?"
"Exactly the same as yours, Suzanne. I think we can rule out both of them as suspects with about 95% certainty. It's not absolute, but I'd put our efforts and suspicions somewhere else."
Now it was Eduardo's turn. He thought a bit, either about what to say or how to say it, then began telling us all about his visit with Maria-Elena Sanchez.
"Suzanne," he began, "Can I share everything with you without getting lectured on my morality, or would you prefer a censored story suitable for a puritanical gringa?"
"Eduardo, I apologize for my previous comments, which earned me a lecture from Roger about cross-cultural sensitivity and minding my own business. I clearly was inappropriate and judgmental in my earlier opinions. It won't happen again. Feel free to speak frankly here. And I have to admit that the abstract morality of using sex as a tool to get information pales in comparison to the concrete morality of using premeditated murder of the bad guys as another tool to get information, which I seem to have endorsed completely."
"OK," continued Eduardo. "Maria-Elena and I met for a long lunch and what Roger referred to somewhat whimsically as a siesta together. She told me that she had not said anything to anybody about our meeting with her father, and that she never discussed bank business with anyone except her father and the immediate family when they got together. However, she also told me that she assumed that Andres routinely discussed potentially lucrative new business for the bank with all three of his sons every day by telephone. Martin, were you able to track down where the various brothers are?"
"Yes, I was. The oldest, Juan, is managing a major branch of the family bank in Buenos Aires. The middle son, Pedro, is managing a smaller, but still quite substantial, branch of the bank in Santiago. The youngest son, Ernesto, is studying for his MBA at a private university here in Montevideo. With three active branches of the bank, there should be a lot of movement at the top to replace the old man."
Eduardo resumed his story. "After lunch we headed for Maria-Elena's apartment. The sex was excellent. She is quite experienced and completely uninhibited. Afterwards we talked about mostly trivial stuff. My bandage had come off while we were exercising and she noticed my knife wound, which she recognized for what it was. After she finished teasing me about bulls carrying knives she asked me what had happened to the guy with the knife. She seemed very disappointed when I didn't have a heroic story, but told her that he held me up by himself on the street, took all of my cash, and disappeared. I think I may not be her hero any more. I was much better off romantically in her eyes when I was a clumsy matador than I am now as a prudent holdup victim."
"Can you draw any conclusions from your exciting day with Maria-Elena, Eduardo?" I asked.
"She seems to be exactly what she appeared to be at our first meeting, beautiful, sexy, a little promiscuous, very hedonistic. I still think she's hiding something, which I'd guess has to do with one of the brothers. Ernesto is a few minutes away here in town and Pedro is an hour or so away in Buenos Aires by fast ferry. Juan is just two hours away in Chile by plane and there are three flights a day from Santiago. I think all three brothers are still suspects.
“One of the most interesting things about the time Maria-Elena and I were in bed together was that she is clearly very afraid of someone or something. After she finished admiring how big I am, and how big my muscles are, she went on to tell me that she felt very safe when she was with me. She wondered whether we could spend much more time together and made it clear that I would be rewarded with a lot more communal bedtime if I said yes. It was all very flattering and very sexy---the poor weak female asking the alpha-male to protect her from the other wolves. I think I need to take her up on her generous offer and see if I can find out who or what has her so scared. We have another date for tonight, so wish me luck.”
"I have another suggestion for you, Eduardo. Why don't you drop a few hints to Maria-Elena that you and Martin are both mildly crooked cops who are in Suzanne's and my pocket. You're not sure yet what exactly is going on, but you assume that you and Martin are there for some kind of dirty deals related to all of that money that Suzanne has to invest in her bank. Maybe if we stir the pot a little bit more Maria-Elena will pass the word onto her brothers and something interesting may come of it."
"Sure," replied Eduardo, "after she figured out that I had lied to her about being gored by a bull and that I had been in some kind of knife fight she was looking at me in kind of a different light as a possible protector. A hint of a slightly shady character would fit my current image with her."
It was my turn next. "Bruce, can you fill everyone in on what we found out today, please."
"We seem to have found out that two out of three mid- and high-level drug dealers in Montevideo prefer death to dishonor. But the sample size was small, so our findings may not be statistically significant. I have a few things to give you, Martin. First, here is a sheet of paper we borrowed from you with three names and addresses on it. You will note that there is a line through two of the names. Please take this as an anonymous tip that there are three dead bodies in the two apartments, all apparently victims of the ongoing drug war.
"I also have a substantial anonymous donation on behalf of the victims of these brutal murders to the Montevideo Police Department's fund for widows and orphans, or some similar charity. I assume that you can ensure that this money will be used appropriately to fulfill their last wishes."
"A most appropriate charitable cause. Yes, I can guarantee that the money will be used in accord with the donor's wishes," replied Martin.
Bruce described our discussion with Jose Escobar, repeating what Escobar had told us almost verbatim. He finished by saying that he believed everything Escobar had told us and he did not feel that Escobar had held back anything significant. He finished be telling everyone that Jose Escobar was still alive and healthy as a reward for his candor.
"I think I'll leave the conclusions to Roger. He knows the background better than I do."
"I agree with everything Bruce told you. I think the conclusion is obvious. Based upon what he knows and has guessed, Jose Escobar has also concluded that there's a Mr. X behind all of this, and he doesn't have the slightest idea who Mr. X is. Within obvious limits, he's offered to help us identify Mr. X if he can."
"How about you, Roger? Do you have any idea who Mr. X is?" asked Eduardo.
"Yes, I'm pretty sure I do. But, as usual, the problem is going to be proving it. And I don't know any way that we can prove who killed Andres Sanchez without smoking them out of their deep cover by making them come after us."
The obvious question came from Eduardo. "How are we going to do that?"
"This may be the perfect opportunity to test the power of Jose Escobar's convictions. Let's think a little bit about what sort of disinformation we could encourage him to leak within his organization that would get them motivated to attack the other faction head-on. I think it's time we lowered our profile and started a carefully
orchestrated civil war among the Montevideo drug dealers. Eduardo, could you ask our new friend Octavio Cortes in Santiago to convince Bernardo O'Higgins that this would be a very good time to not have any manpower to spare if he gets any requests for fresh troops from Uruguay?"
"Easily. I think Octavio would appreciate having another chance to convince us that he's on the good guy's side, especially if he doesn't have to do anything himself."
"Bruce, how about you and I visiting with Ernesto Sanchez this evening while Suzanne looks after Robert? Right now he certainly belongs somewhere at or near the top of our short list of possible candidates to be Mr. X. We can show him a little bit of the up close and personal implications of a drug war and give him a few hints that we're gringo drug dealers looking to muscle in on the local racket here in Montevideo. I'd like to plant a few more seeds in this little garden we're beginning to help to grow."
"Sure. Are we going to get to play some more?" Bruce inquired.
"I don't think so. This should probably only be a meet and greet visit. But just in case, I'll feel better if I have some backup if I need it. We should be home in time for dinner, Suzanne.
