An Inconsequential Murder (33 page)

“
Ah, the sanctimonious bastard has finally showed up,” said Lombardo sarcastically. “The man who has dedicated his life to the
cause de jour
? You haven’t told me what you call it this time around. God save the Western World, perhaps? You haven’t got Communism to give you license to go around murdering people, so now you use drugs and terrorism as an excuse, huh?”

“
Look, Lombardo, you’ve got a lot of people, on both sides, really pissed off. Things could happen to you.”

“
Don’t threaten me, you pinhead. I’m no twenty-five-year-old kid you can scare into submission. In fact, you couldn’t even do it with a twenty-five-year-old; he resisted until you killed him.”

John Wayne
’s eyes were darting back and forth between Lombardo and something under the desk. Lombardo was sure now that he was being recorded. So, he continued, “So you can tell your bosses that even if they make minced meat out of me, the stuff will still get to the right people.”

John Wayne lit another twisted cheroot and changed his tone, “Sit down, Captain. Let’s see if we can find a way to satisfy both our, how shall I put it, both our needs.” He now took the passenger’s list and pretended to look at it. “Suppose these three persons did work for us, and, suppose they
did
do this heinous crime you say they committed. If your evidence proved this to be true, well, I could then offer you that those persons would be expelled from the service and brought to stand trial for manslaughter in the U.S.”

“
Not good enough. They’d get ten years, reduced to five for good behavior and then go to a minimum security prison where they would spend three growing vegetables and then get a pardon due to ‘health’ reasons, after which they would get a job for the C.I.A. or a private security company doing the same shit in the Middle East or wherever. I want them in a Mexican jail where
nobody
gets paroled.”

“
OK,
Captain, let me level with you. Even if I were willing to give these men up to you—given that your evidence would prove to be substantial—my superiors would never allow it. It
would be too embarrassing for us, not to mention dangerous if their lawyers started poking around your evidence.”

“
Well, the ball’s in your court. You tell me what we can do about this. What will the market bear, as your compatriots would put it, and we’ll go from there. But, tell the other pinheads in Washington that this is not about money. There’s no one to bribe this time and no killings will get you out of this. Those three guys have to pay for their crime.”

“
OK, but give me three days. Some of the people I have to talk to will have to talk to others further up the ladder, and that takes time.”

“
OK,” agreed Lombardo, “three days counting this one. Call me when you’ve decided something. You know where to find me.” Lombardo opened the door and left the office. He felt a small twitch of satisfaction at the fact that he had left without shaking the man’s hand to say good-bye.

Chapter
38: John Gets the Green Light

John Wayne hit the button under the desk to stop the recording and opened a desk drawer to retrieve the memory card where the conversation had been
stored.

He went back to his office and thought for a few minutes before making the phone call. He knew what the best solution was but he needed clearance from several people, not only to protect himself, but also to protect his boss. He had to convince all parties that his proposal was the only way out of this mess.

He picked up the secure line and called. It was 3 p.m. in Washington, his boss was sure to be in the office.

The phone rang a few times before it was picked up. The gruff voice of his boss said, “Yeah?”

“
Hey, Boss, it’s John.”

“
Hey, how ya doin’? You talk to that Mexican cop yet?”

“
Yeah, he just left a few minutes ago.”

“
So? How do things look?”

“
Not good,” said John Wayne, “he’s not going to negotiate.”

“
OK, so what’s the bottom line?”

“
He wants the three guys. He wants to see them in jail, that’s what he wants.”

“
Bullshit! Call his bluff and offer him some money.”

“
No, Boss; this ain’t about money—I’m sure of that. This guy’s got a personal grudge of some kind and he wants to see our three guys in jail.”

“
A personal grudge? Against who?”

“
Against us, against Mexican politics, against the system, who knows—the thing is that he is dead set on this thing.”

“
Can we, uh, neutralize him in any other way, you know…”

“
No, that’s no good. He says he’s got the thing set up to where if anything happens to him, the stuff goes to a bunch of people, and I believe him. He’s an old hand. He knows how to handle himself and doesn’t scare easy.”

“
Some Mexican president said that he didn’t know a Mexican general who could stand a cannon shot of fifty thousand pesos in gold; I’ve never known a Mexican cop who could stand one of fifty thousand dollars.”

“
I think this guy is the exception to the rule,” said John Wayne.

The Boss sighed heavily and said, “OK, tell me again about the three guys. Who are they?”

“
Oh, they’re a crew from a private firm. They hired them in Washington but they come from out west someplace.”

“
Hmm, probably nut jobs from one of those mercenary camps in Wyoming or such.” He sighed again, “So, they are not Agency people; I mean they weren’t, uh, they didn’t start with us, you know, go through our training and such.”

“
No, they’re not Agency people,” John Wayne said. He was relieved because he now knew where this was going.

“
So, why did we hire these clowns in the first place?”

“
The idea was that if something went wrong, the Agency would be clear of it. And, you see, they were right to do it.”

The Boss sighed yet again and said, “OK, you take care of this, personally. We got word from way up at the top that the President has a lot riding on this Bilateral thing and he doesn’t want anything,
anything,
messing with Mexican relations right now. So, they want us to keep a low profile until after he signs the bill, you get me?”

“
Yeah, I get you, Boss.”

“
So, anything you do, you do on the quiet. No mess, no bother.”

“
Right, Boss.”

“
And, like I told you: when you do, don’t give me any details, just let me know it’s been taken care of, OK?”

“
OK, Boss.”

“
And, John, let me tell you something: you might think that these desk jobs in Washington or a field office somewhere in the U.S. are boring, but John, believe me, there comes a time when you, well, sort of grow into them, and it sure is a lot more comfortable being surrounded by people you can trust and that you like, you know what I mean?”

“
Yeah, I get you, Boss.”

“
So, once this is over and our man is safely in the President’s chair in Mexico, you should start thinking of asking for a transfer up here. You’ve done a hell of a lot for this country. It’s about time you started takin’ it easy.”

“
I think you’re right, Boss, and that’s exactly what I’ll do when this is over.”

They said good-bye and hung up. “I’ll be damned if I ever become a fuckin’ desk jockey,” he said aloud and then reflexively looked to see that he wasn’t being recorded.

He was very relieved that his boss had given him carte blanche in handling the problem, and given the way he had suggested he ask for a transfer stateside, he was sure there was some sort of promotion for him if he handled the Lombardo thing right.

He flipped open his cell phone and scrolled through the phonebook. He came to an entry recorded as
“Man in Green.” He dialed hoping that the man hadn’t changed his phone number since he had last talked to him a few months ago.

A voice answered in Spanish,
“
¿Diga?
”

“
Ey, Mayor García, ¿cómo está?
” said John Wayne.

“
¿Quién habla?
” asked the Major curtly, wanting to know who was calling.

“
Es tu amigo, John Wayne,
” he answered jovially.

“
Ah, que milagro,
cabrón; hace mucho que no te comunicas
,” said the Major reproaching him that it had been a long time since John Wayne had called.

“
Mucho trabajo, mucho trabajo,
” said John Wayne alleging he had had a lot of work, and then inviting the Major to have a beer, “
pero vamos a tomarnos unas cervezas, no
?”

“
Cervezas, madre; unos tragos
,” said the Major who preferred Scotch to beer. “¿
Cuando
?”

He met with Major García that night. They had a great fish dinner in El Huachinango on López Cotilla Avenue and then went to a quiet
bar on Argentina Street just off Vallarta Avenue. They both knew that there would be few people around; just a few couples who regularly used the bar for clandestine meetings and the fat bar owner who sang into her wireless microphone as she served her customers. The karaoke she used was loud enough to accompany her, but not so loud they couldn’t converse.

They sat in a booth where there was little light. Both men liked the shadows.

“
OK, John,” said the Major, “it’s about time you told me why you really called.”

“
I just wanted to see an old friend; one should never let friendships fade away just because we’re busy.”

The Major laughed, “Don’t give me that, you fuckin’ gringo. You are always up to something. And, whatever it is, you need my help.”

It was John Wayne’s turn to laugh, although it was a mirthless laugh, a forced laugh. “My friend, you are right. I do need your help.”

He told the Major that there were three Americans, drug smugglers, who were leaving the country in a day or two. He said that he had tried to get them arrested, both in Mexico and in the U.S., but that they had always managed to escape him. They were very clever. They had never been caught with anything in their possession or in the act of selling or buying drugs. But he knew that the three bastards were big-time smugglers. He wondered if the Major could take care of them.

“
And, how do you propose I ‘take care of them’?” asked the Major.

“
My men in the field tell me that these guys are planning to go back to the U.S. by car. I have a feeling that the reason they are doing that is because they probably plan stops in Sinaloa and Sonora to talk to a capo of the Sinaloa Cartel.”

“
And so?” asked the Major signaling for two more whiskeys.

“
Well, I’m sure that they are going to be carrying a kilo or two in the trunk of their rented car—you know, hidden in the trunk—it would be very bad for them if they came upon a roadblock. And, if they did not stop, well, the soldiers would be forced to shoot at the car in an effort to halt them, wouldn’t they?”

“
You are a devious bastard, John. That’s why I like you,” said the Major, smiling. “OK. Three guys, thirty thousand.”

“
Thirty thousand!” said John Wayne in mocked surprise. “My, your price really has gone up.”

“
It’s this damned inflation, my friend. And besides, I have to give my soldiers something—to improve their aim, you know.”

“
OK, it’s a deal.” They shook hands.

“
Just make sure the stuff is in the trunk, eh? I won’t want to be accused of mistaking innocent tourists for drug smugglers.”

“
Of course it will be in the trunk! You see, I’m the guy providing them with the car!”

They both laughed. They stayed there until both were rather drunk after which they went to a very elegant whorehouse in the Las Aguilas section. It was a house with which both the Major and John Wayne were very familiar.