A Corpse for Cuamantla (18 page)

Chapter
47

C
ortez removed his jacket and glanced at the circular clock mounted on the back wall of his office. A replica of the Aztec calendar, the timepiece read twelve fifty-three.  He managed to return to Tlaxcala earlier than expected. Perhaps a leisurely lunch and an early evening lay ahead of him after all, if he could wrap up Francisco's arrest papers in the next hour or so. The trio stood in the doorway behind him. Cortez motioned them to chairs in the reception area and indicted he would be with them shortly.

Slinging his jacket over the back of his chair, he stood in front of his desk sifting through the pile of messages left by his secretary. One note in particular caught his attention and he placed a call to the squad room downstairs. The speaker at the other end of the line gave him a name and telephone number from Agent Morelos, the lead agent in the Commander's homicide group. Cortez dialed the operator requesting a priority call to the Mexico City number.

The District detectives worked faster than he expected. Francisco's two friends were already in custody. The police in Mexico City could be efficient when it served their purposes despite their reputation, which he knew to be well deserved. Hanging up the phone, Cortez sat and reviewed his conversation with his D.F. counterparts before returning to his nervous visitors. Francisco's hands fidgeted in his lap. Across from him, his father and the Municipal President whispered to each other, neither noticing when Cortez entered the room.

"Excuse me," he said, startling them. "You need to follow me downstairs to be fingerprinted, Francisco. The technicians are waiting. There's no need for everyone to come," Cortez told Arnulfo and the President when they rose from their chairs, "this will only take a few minutes."

Ten minutes later, the Comandante and Francisco returned with two officers in tow. Cortez invited everyone into his office for the interrogation, which he referred to as an interview. Thanks to the Commander's high rank he rated one of the larger offices and no one felt crowded despite the addition of extra chairs commandeered from the reception area.

Cortez preferred to conduct business on his own turf rather than use the basement interrogation rooms downstairs, particularly in cases like this where relationships were highly personalized. People talk more openly when they feel safe and comfortable, a lesson he felt many of his colleagues needed to learn.

José Cortez addressed the anxious young man softly, "Francisco, my boy, I'll be asking you to explain the circumstances of your involvement in the death of Pedro García. Your responses will be recorded. Please be accurate and include as many details as you can remember."

The room fell silent as Francisco recounted the relationship between his sister and Pedro García, the grief and humiliation this caused his family and the decision by Diego and Francisco to frighten the Director in order to avenge the family's honor. Diego, he said, arrived in Cuamantla with a friend from Mexico City, Raúl Baez, who would threaten the Director into paying protection money. They had the day off from work and knew they would find Pedro García at school on a fiesta day.

Early that morning, Francisco said, the pair arrived at his house and the three young men walked over to the school arriving about 9:30. They hung around the zócolo waiting for their opportunity. When they noticed Pedro duck into the rose garden at the side of the school, they started to follow. Instead, one person after another entered the rose garden, each one returning without Pedro.

A short time later, Diego and Raúl went into the rose garden to confront the Director. Francisco's role was to stand guard at the entrance and discourage anyone else from entering. After a few minutes, Francisco heard Diego calling him. He walked to the back of the garden where he found the two standing over the dead body of Pedro. Francisco recoiled in anger at what he thought they'd done, but Diego calmed him saying the Director was already dead when they arrived. Raúl searched the Director's pockets and discovered the wallet, which he stole in order to compensate himself for the long trip to Cuamantla and for getting involved in a murder. Immediately afterward the three left the area. Diego and Raúl caught the next taxi to Apizaco and from there they took the first bus back to Mexico City. Francisco claimed to have heard nothing from them since.

"You found Maestro García dead, but you never reported his death to the officials, or told your parents," Cortez said, waiting for a response.

"
Sí, Comandante
. We knew if we reported it we might be charged with the murder. Also, Raúl stole the Director's wallet, so . . ."

"I see, go on."

"That's all I have to say," Francisco stated apologetically. "I'm sorry you only have my word, but if you contact Diego and Raúl, they will tell you the same story because it is the truth."

Cortez rocked back in his chair appraising the youth.

"The District police in Mexico City arrested Diego and Raúl a short while ago," he announced almost casually, measuring Francisco's reaction, "and it seems they tell nearly the same story."

"Nearly?" Francisco asked, emboldened by the Commander's patient demeanor. "Their
story
as you call it should be identical to mine since it is the truth."

"As a matter of fact," José acknowledged, pausing to allow the impact of his words to sink in, "if your stories matched exactly, I would be less inclined to believe you." Cortez paused again, uncharacteristically puzzled about what to do next.

"We're finished, then?" Arnulfo asked, obviously relieved. "You believe my son is telling the truth and we can all go home? I told you he was a good boy, that he couldn't have been involved in this murder. We could have saved much time if you listened to me earlier," he turned accusingly to the Commander then remembered the favor he wanted and retreated, "if you will pardon my saying so, Comandante. We all know it's important for the police to perform their duties thoroughly in order to avoid mistakes, and we appreciate the care you have given to this investigation..."

Cortez interrupted him. "You are two steps ahead of me, Señor. The fact that I am
inclined
to believe your son is not proof of his innocence. At this point in our investigation, we have incontrovertible evidence that your son, along with Diego and Raúl, was among the last persons to have seen Pedro García. The assumption we have to make is that García was alive at the time. Until we collect more evidence or discover another perpetrator, we'll have to keep Francisco under house arrest."

"What does house arrest mean?" Francisco asked looking up from the floor.

"It means you will not be allowed to return home with your parents. I'm requesting the Municipal President take you into his custody. You can stay at his home and under his supervision until I send word otherwise. Will you agree to this, Señor?"

"Sí." The Municipal President nodded his assent.

Arnulfo groaned and quietly mumbled to himself. "This will cost me many pesos that I don't have. I can hear them adding up, one by clinking one." He studied the floor, still talking to himself. "I don't know what to say. My son is innocent. The police should let him go home while they work to find the real murderer."

Commander Cortez glanced at Arnulfo in surprise, having assumed he would appreciate his son's return to Cuamantla rather than going to jail. "You have a problem, Señor?"

Con permiso," Arnulfo said. "It is only that I need my son to work in the fields. This is a busy time of the year for us and his absence will cost me much."

"That can be worked out," Cortez said with a trace of agitation, "but, if I receive word that Francisco has stepped foot anywhere but in your fields
,
or the house of the President, I will return him immediately to a Tlaxcala jail cell until this affair is over. Do you understand me?" He glanced sternly from father to son and back again.

"
Sí
," they answered in unison.

Cortez reminded everyone that Francisco was not yet out of the woods. "I'll contact you if any new evidence turns up," he said, addressing the two older men. "You're free to leave."

Cortez returned his chair to its rightful place behind the desk and placed his athletic build squarely in its center.

The three men from Cuamantla leaned across the desk to shake the Commander's hand murmuring their thanks, while the two police officers exited quietly through the rear door of the Commander's office, whispering words to the effect that when this genial man ran out of patience, it was not a pretty sight.

Chapter 48

F
rancisco and his father left the Commander's office, but the Municipal President stayed behind asking to speak privately with Cortez about another matter.

"Yes, no problem," Cortez said, motioning the President to close the door so they could talk in private. "What's this about?"

"Thank you for hearing me out,
Comandante
. I discovered an embarrassing problem yesterday morning, which I have shared with no one." He paused, and Cortez waited for the next shoe to drop. "A theft occurred in my office yesterday. The
Real Cédula
is missing and I'm worried someone might accuse me of taking it, which is why I want to report it to the police before telling the officials in my village. Also, I'm not exactly certain when it was stolen. The last time I can attest to its presence was day before yesterday, in the afternoon when I showed it to several education officials visiting my village for the fiesta."

Cortez sighed. "Ah, now I see why you agreed to accompany Señor Sánchez to Tlaxcala today. Yes, I'm willing to help, especially since I'm already involved in one crime in Cuamantla, but let me remind you. Do not allow Sr. Sánchez to pay you for your time accompanying him here today or for keeping his son under guard as I've requested. I'll check and if I find you've accepted such a gratuity from that hard working family, I'll leave you to the mercy of your village officials."

"Not a problem, Comandante," the President assured, nodding his head and shaking José's hand vigorously before turning to leave the room, "
muchas gracias, Comandante
."

A dejected Cortez remained glued to his chair worrying again about the possible dangers awaiting the American Maestra in Zocatlo. The document theft was a matter for AFI, not his office. Fortunately, he had a few friends in the agency.  He would need their help on this murder investigation, especially now that the theft of this
Real Cédula
might be related. An idea occurred to him and he hurried out of his office, walking briskly down the hall to intercept his Cuamantla trio.

"Señores," Cortez called out to the three men before they disappeared from sight. The Municipal President heard him and backed around the corner peering uncertainly down the long dark hall.

"Comandante?" Were you calling us?"

"Sí, Señor," Cortez waved them back. "Please, if you will return to my office and wait a few minutes, I'll drive you back to Cuamantla." So much for a leisurely lunch, he thought to himself.

Arnulfo's eyes lit up. He preferred to leave the company of the Commander as soon as possible, but the prospect of a triumphant return to Cuamantla chauffeured by the Commander was too good to pass up. A similar thought occurred to the Municipal President and the two hurried to catch up with Cortez who strode back to his office, confident they would accept his offer. Only Francisco hesitated, but goaded by his father's stern glance, followed his elders in silence.

Back at the reception area, Cortez explained he had another fifteen minutes of paperwork to clear up before they could leave. He pointed to magazines on the side tables and invited them to read while they waited.

Leaving through the back door of his office, Cortez skipped down the stairs two at a time. He retrieved Anna's DVD and left orders with the secretary not to disturb him during his use of the DVD player. Ignoring her protests, he entered the room to find two young officers watching a movie one of them had rented. Cortez was so distracted by the plethora of ideas running through his head, he neglected to register any disapproval of their behavior. Relieved at this uncharacteristic behavior on the part of their Comandante, the two hurried from the room leaving their precious movie still running.

Cortez popped out the disk and replaced it with Anna's. He grabbed a pen and paper from the desk, and fast-forwarded the DVD to the spot where Pedro could be seen walking behind the school. Continuing to fast forward, Cortez wrote down the names and/or descriptions of each person coming and going from the rose garden until he reached the place on the DVD where Diego and his friends entered the scene. Stopping to catch his breath, Cortez reviewed the list. The last two people to see Pedro prior to Diego and his friends were Yolanda and Tomás Bello, and before them, Miguel.

If Miguel and Francisco were telling the truth, then the DVD evidence pointed to either Yolanda or Tomás Bello or both. Perhaps they plotted to do away with Pedro or more likely tried to blackmail him, a ploy that might have gone awry. If Yolanda and Bello had found Pedro dead, they would have reported the matter. What troubled him was not only the list of people entering and leaving the rose garden, but those who came and went from inside the school, none of whom he recognized.

Pedro's killer might have gone inside the school and accosted Pedro from inside a classroom. Anna's video caught a number of faces, and Cortez ran through the video again wishing Miguel were here to help identify people. Every couple of seconds he stopped the video, glanced over the crowds and added to his list. Many he realized, would attend Pedro's funeral in Zocatlo. If Francisco were innocent as Cortez suspected, then his fears for Anna were real. He could only hope Miguel was as innocent as he assumed him to be.

Cortez tucked the file into his briefcase. Before returning upstairs, he stopped by Agent Morelos' office to inquire about AFI's ongoing investigation into local black market activities. He wondered who was leading the inquiry. Returning to his office, he placed a call to an AFI friend and obtained a most interesting piece of information relating to Belén. Cortez hung up the phone, grabbed his jacket off the chair and told his visitors he was ready for the drive back to Cuamantla.

Commander Cortez held the door open for his guests. "After you, Francisco," he said. The three men followed Cortez down the hall and out the back door of the building. "I'll need to make a short detour on our trip back to Cuamantla," he said, "but it shouldn't take too long." No returning here tonight, he thought, checking his watch before leaving for what he hoped would be a more profitable trip to Cuamantla, one that included a short stop in Belén.