An Inconsequential Murder (34 page)

Chapter 3
9: A Deadly Roadblock

John Wayne woke up with a horrible hang
over, but a cold shower and his favorite remedy, a half glass of tomato juice combined with a half glass of beer, got him into working condition. He had a lot of things to do; he couldn’t lie around all day.

After he shaved and dressed, he picked up his phone and called the crew at the hotel. He told the crew leader they should be ready to move the next day.

“
Where are we going?” asked the crew leader.

“
You’re going home, buddy,” said John cheerfully.

“
That’s good news. We’re tired of sitting around this damned place.”

“
Yeah, sorry about that,” said John Wayne, “but I’ll see to it you get a bonus from your company. Now listen up, here’s the drill. There’ll be a rental car waiting for you tomorrow morning at the hotel’s entrance, so check out and take the car; the keys will be in the ignition. You are not leaving from the Guadalajara airport because it’s too hot. Drive north. Take the road to Zacatecas, understand? The drive to Zacatecas takes a good three-and-a-half or four-hours, so leave early. When you get to Zacatecas, head for the airport, which is farther north. There are signs, so you can’t miss it. Go to the Aeroméxico counter—there will be three e-tickets waiting for you there. You’ll leave on a direct flight to Los Angeles. Your people have been informed; they will take it from there, OK? Did you get all that?

“
Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

“
Repeat it back to me.”

“
A rental car will be waiting for us downstairs. We drive to Zacatecas, go to the airport, and there will be e-tickets for us at the Aeroméxico counter. We will fly to L.A. and meet our people there.”

“
Right; now, as I said, you have to leave early because the flight is in the afternoon at two o’clock, fourteen hundred hours, OK?

“
Got it,” said the crew leader.

“
Good man. This will be the last time we talk, so good luck and have a good trip back.”

“
Before you go,” said the crew leader, “can you tell me why we have to go to Zacatecas? What makes you think it’s too hot for us to leave from here?”

John Wayne didn’t want the guy to get suspicious so he tried to sound as casual and straightforward as possible. And, like Lombardo, he always told lies as close to the truth as possible. “Look, I don’t want to go into a lot of details with you, but there was a Mexican cop that came up from Monterrey to see me. He’s on your trail and that’s why I have to hustle you out of here as soon as I can. He knows you’re in the city so he’s probably got the airport and the bus stations covered, so our best bet is to get you out of here by car and then fly you out of Zacatecas. There’s no way he can know you’ll be flying out of there.”

“
How did he get on to us?”

“
He didn’t say,” said John Wayne truthfully. “Maybe somebody ratted on you.”

“
Maybe your garage guys.”

“
Yeah, maybe those guys. I’ll have to talk to them next time I’m in Monterrey.”

“
You do that,” said the crew leader angrily. “Sons of bitches.”

“
Listen, I have to go now; there’s lots of stuff I have to arrange
for you guys.”

He hung up and called the Major. “
Mi amigo
, how are you this morning?” he greeted the obviously hung over Major Garcia.

“
Oh, that damned whore must have put something in my drink last night.”

“
Yeah, I’m sure it was that and not the 20 or so whiskeys we drank. Listen, amigo, our friends are leaving tomorrow. They are going by car to Zacatecas.”

“
What time are they leaving?”

“
I told them to leave early, around eight in the morning.”

“
So, what time do you think they will be arriving in, let’s say, Jalpa or Tabasco?”

“
Hmm, that’s about a two-hour drive, so I’d say around ten.”

“
OK, we’ll be ready.”

John Wayne’s next call was to a garage he used on these occasions. He told the man that answered that he needed a car. A new one, untraceable—a Chrysler C300, or a Durango would be better. That afternoon, a Durango was stolen from a parking lot at a shopping center.

The Major showered and shaved and put on a fresh, crisp uniform. He left for the General Headquarters of the XV Military Zone where he could ask a friend in military intelligence to request a roadblock for the highway between Jalpa and Tabasco because of reports of drug smugglers moving stuff north the next day via that road.

John Wayne called a friend on the Judicial Police and asked for a kilo of cocaine from the stash that had been confiscated on the last raid to a safe house. Then he went to his friend’s garage, where they were changing the color of the Durango from bright red to black with fast-drying car paint. He put the kilo of cocaine in the wheel well of the Durango. He told the garage man to deliver the Durango to the Miravalle hotel the next day at seven in the morning, park it near the entrance, and to leave the key in the ignition. He was to tell the valet parking attendant that the car was a rental for the people staying in suite 123.

Major García went to the commanding general’s office as soon as he got the call. The general ordered him to set up a roadblock just north of Jalpa. Military intelligence reported that a drug shipment was expected through there the next day. He was told to take two squads, heavily armed, and an armored vehicle. “Yes, sir, General,” said Major García and snapped a salute.

The following day, as the three men in the black Durango got to Jalpa, one of them suggested they stop for breakfast there but the crew leader said, “No, who knows what you can catch in these greasy spoon restaurants. We’ll have lunch at the airport; it looks like we’ll be early for our two o’clock flight anyway.”

About 10 kilometers outside of Jalpa they came upon some soldiers waving them toward the side of the road.

“
What the hell is this,” said the black man alarmed by the roadblock.

“
Just take it easy,” said the crew leader. “Roadblocks are common here in Mexico. They’ll ask us a few questions and then let us through. Get your passports ready.”

Chapter
40: Tying Up Loose Ends

The day that he got back from Guadalajara, Lombardo started writing a report on his investigation of
Victor Delgado’s murder that detailed all of the facts, and listed all of the evidence that he had gathered. He wanted to be ready in case John Wayne reneged on the deal and Lombardo found out that the three men he wanted arrested had been spirited out of the country and into the United States.

He also made a copy of the resignation letter he kept in his desk but did not date it; he knew that if he handed in
this
version of the report, he would have to hand in his resignation at the same time. His only salvation now was for “justice to be served” one way or another.

He made
other copies of the report and his resignation, which he stuffed into the envelopes that were addressed to local and national media, as well as
The New York Times
and the CNN correspondents in Mexico City and put them into FedEx envelopes ready to be sent out.

Lombardo’s boss had been in Mexico City all week so he was able to work in peace, without having to explain to him the result of his meeting in Guadalajara, although he was sure that his boss had gotten an update directly from John Wayne or maybe even the U.S. Consul in Guadalajara himself.

At ten o’clock in the morning of the second day after his return, Lombardo arrived at the Investigations Department’s building and went directly to his desk. He had decided that he would give John Wayne until three in the afternoon to call or send some sort of communication; otherwise, he would post his copies to the media before the 4 p.m. deadline for sending things via FedEx for next-day delivery.

As he sat down at his desk he noticed a white unaddressed envelope inside a plastic bag that had a sticker on it:
“Delivered by Special Courier.”

He opened the envelope and found a single sheet of paper on which a single sentence had been printed: “Justice has been served.”

Lombardo picked up his cell phone and called the American Consulate in Guadalajara; he asked for “John Wayne” but was told that there was no one by that name in the Consulate. He then asked for the office of the DEA there and was informed that they had no office in the Consulate—perhaps, they suggested, if he called the embassy in Mexico City they could give him more information.

His desk phone buzzed. It was the Director’s secretary. He wanted to see Lombardo.

As soon as Lombardo walked into the office, the Director shoved a newspaper across the desk and said, “Have you seen this?”

The incident was tucked away discreetly in the third page where the “National News” of lesser interest was reported. But it did have one picture. It was a black SUV with a body hanging halfway out of one of its opened doors.

The text said that the SUV had failed to halt as requested at a military roadblock. It had attempted to run over the soldiers, who had signaled it to stop. The passengers of the SUV had shot at the soldiers, which had prompted the commanding officer to order his soldiers to return fire. The passengers, three males, two Americans and one Canadian, had died in the shootout. Upon inspection of the vehicle, several kilograms of cocaine were found hidden in the wheel well of the spare tire. Identification found on the three men proved to be false but fingerprint and other forms of identification revealed that all three had criminal records in their respective countries and had been identified by both international and national law enforcement agencies as known drug dealers and smugglers.

“
I guess that’s the end of it,” said the Director.

“
As far as the murder of Victor Delgado is concerned,” said Lombardo.

The Director leaned back on his chair and said, “I understand that the interim Governor has named a new Dean at the University.”

“
So?” said Lombardo shrugging his shoulders.

“
So, soon the only copies of the information, which has caused so much trouble, will be the ones you have. I am sure the new Dean will order the Computer Center to do a lot of housecleaning.”

“
Are you asking me to destroy those copies, sir?”

“
I’m not asking you anything, Captain Lombardo. You said that the information you have is evidence. Well, I suggest you keep it in a safe place. It might be very useful if the case is taken up by the Public Ministry.”

“
It’s even more useful as insurance for me,” said Lombardo.

“
I really don’t think you need it anymore,” said the Director dryly. “By the way, there was a reported burglary at the Planetarium. Some valuable equipment was stolen. I’m assigning you to the case.”

“
How exciting. Thank you, sir. I was worried you might assign me to investigate your predecessor’s murder.”

“
No, that’s been assigned to a ‘crack team’ of combined forces from the Judicial Police and the Public Ministry. Good day, Captain.”

As he left the Director
’s office, Lombardo wondered how long it would take the “crack team” to bury the case under the slush pile of unsolved murders.

He went back to his desk and sat down. The note that John Wayne had sent seemed to mock him: “Justice has been served.”

“
The hell it has,” said Lombardo and he hurried out of the building and down to the garage. He went to the head mechanic and yelled, “Where the hell is my damned car. I’m tired of paying for taxis.”

Lombardo rushed through the midday traffic to his downtown destination. When he got there, he left his car in a no parking zone in front of the Kalos building, but remembered to put the “Police on Official Business” card on the dashboard.

He went to Lupe Salgado’s office and walked right in, in spite of the secretary’s protestations.

“
It’s all right, Miss Flores,” said Lupe Salgado when she said that the Captain had barged in without announcing himself.

“
Lupe, I need you to do something for me,” said Lombardo.

“
How can I help you, Captain?”