Redemption (33 page)

“Yeah, it’s just awesome. Thanks, Andy, this gives us a huge boost,” said Namara, taking notes in the notebook in front of him.

“There are times when I feel extremely generous. Ok, do you have a pen and paper?”

“Yeah.”

Andy gave him the address of Eduardo Gomez’s bar.

“Happy hunt!” he said, and hung up.

“And now?” asked Guerra, impatient to hear the other side of the phone conversation.

“I think it’s time to show us a little bit,” retorted Namara.

CHAPTER 49

Ming Mei’s curves glowed under the red stage lights as the eyes of spectators stared, riveted. She swayed lasciviously on the stage, and then turned on a metal pole behind her. Her movements were fluid and sensual like a nymph from another world. Ed Gomez’s bar was full of clients flabbergasted by Ming Mei’s black-bikini-clad body, and her beauty blew them away.

She swayed to the rhythm of a pop song. The thumping music was mingled with rakish shouts and cigarette smoke. Stage lights cast the place in semi-darkness. The clients were not used to a show of this quality and a dancer of such beauty. Paper money waved in the air as she continued to dazzle.

Shinsaku was sitting at a table, melting into the delirious crowd. Like most of the men present, his eyes were fixed on Ming Mei. Apparently she was both experienced and talented in this field. He’d never once looked at her in that way since he met her, but she was like a completely different woman than the one he knew so well. It was she who’d volunteered to approach Ed in posing as a stripper on the run with a few friends, looking to forget and make a few bucks. Ed had looked her over from head to toes, and then put her to the test in the very next set. If she went over well, he said, they could talk. She had accepted and clearly, the clients had spoken. Ed watched the show, the frenzy she inspired and saw an opportunity to make money with this girl, who performed at a caliber he’d never seen in his life.

Her body was perfect, her steps like a cat, and her beauty – quite simply, flawless. He’d never seen his establishment so alive. When she’d put this plan forward, Namara had hesitated. He wasn’t sure that it was a good idea, but she’d insisted, and they agreed that Shinsaku would go in incognito to watch for suspicious behavior among the clientele. Namara and Guerra were stationed a few blocks away in a car, and they watched the entrance of the bar attentively. Ming Mei finished her performance on her knees and she stood to catch her breath as shouts and whistles of satisfaction roared around her. She smiled and waved to the crowd before disappearing into the wings.

Shinsaku lost sight of her and knew it was up to her now. He stayed at his table, nursing a beer and watching the next show. Ming Mei arrived at her dressing room and daubed at her glistening body with a towel. After pulling into a sweater, she returned to find Ed watching her through the half-opened door. Their eyes crossed and Ming Mei forced herself to smile. Eduardo was of imposing build. His hair color was dark and he wore several plated chains around his neck. His face was stubbly and a dark-colored shirt set his jewelry off. His eyes were black and his face reflected no emotion, like any man sitting in the bar.

“Join me in my office, we’ll talk,” he said.

“I’ll be there in minute,” she responded, gathering her things.

She walked the narrow and dirty hallways to Ed’s office. She passed several Mexican strippers on the way who walked quickly in all directions. At the entrance, she gave three light knocks.

“Come in!”

Ed was sitting at his office, leaning back as he looked her over with his cold eyes. Other men were sitting around the room and they stared without saying a word.
They all look like perfect bastards.
She didn’t like the idea of shutting herself in this office at all. If things went bad, she could kill them all one after the other before fleeing. Except if they were armed… and then she saw the butt of an M16 leaned up against a filing cabinet and well within Eduardo’s reach. Better to assume they were all armed.

“What’s your name again?”

“Léa!”

“Ok… you move well, Léa! Here, have a seat,” he said, pointing to a chair across from his desk. She took it and smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Where you from again?”

“Chicago. I got to San Matanza with my friends Rick and Arthur. I’m looking to make me a bit of cash.”

“What did you do in Chicago?”

“I was a stripper, and Rick was my manager. Him, he sold a bit of coke and protected me. But… let’s just say that things got complicated, and we had to leave to avoid… problems.”

“What kind of problems?”

“There were a few too many deaths over there. There was a war between two rival gangs and we found ourselves caught up in the middle, so…”

“So you fucked off to save your necks!”

“Yeah, you don’t fuck around with the mafia up there. Rick is strong and hard, but those guys’ll shoot you in the back sooner or later. We were deep in the shit, so we decided to start fresh.”

“You’re very good, you know. You could make a pile of cash if you want. Me too, if you do become one of my girls.”

“I would like to, but I only dance. No contact, no prostitution. I want to be clear about that.”

Ed dipped his head back as he thought in silence for a moment.

“Most of the girls here sleep with clients and they are ready to do their little extra, you know. But at the same time, I saw you dance, and, in one show, you made more than most of the girls make the whole night. I know you could get me good cash with your ass. So, it’s a deal! You do nothing but dance. However, know that the girls that dance for me… Well, their asses belong to me. So you’re going to have to tell your buddy Rick that Uncle Ed’s taking over. I don’t tolerate anyone else but me in my world.”

“Rick has always supported me and he will continue to do so. He’s saved me a lot. He stays by my side. Take it or leave it.”

Ed groaned with irritation and glanced at his two henchmen, who stayed frozen. He wore a shirt with sleeves so she couldn’t see his tattoos.

“All right, fine, for now. If you’re interested, you have a place here. You’ll have a dressing room by tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it, you won’t be disappointed!” she lied, standing and shaking his hand. Then she headed for the door. He called after her.

“The girls here work hard, you know. I expect the same thing from you. The money that I make belongs to me and whoever tries to steal from me will face consequences. I don’t know what you really were in Chicago, nor the real reason you’re here, but you know that if you looking to fuck with me, you’re finished. Do we understand each other!?”

She turned to face him and met his gaze. She stayed serious and sober. She knew he wasn’t kidding.

“Yes, we understand each other.”

“We’ll see. Be here on time tomorrow and close the door on your way out!”

CHAPTER 50

Meliza hated overtime hours because she hated having to come home in darkness. She caught the very last bus of the night. She was alone with the driver, who lurched the bus mechanically into the night. She was exhausted from the day and she was in a hurry to get home to rest. She dreaded the part of the way where she would have to walk. Every time she finished late she walked hundreds of meters in total darkness. She had done it a hundred times, and her heart never stopped pounding in her chest until she’d made it to her front door.

She stared into the black night through the windows of the bouncing bus that jolted her around in her seat.
Everything’s going to be fine, I don’t have to linger in the street and I’ll be home in a few minutes.
The driver woke her from her thoughts when the bus screeched to a halt at its last stop. As usual, her heart began to beat as she descended the steps. The wind hit her forcefully. A strong squall caught her coat and her long curls. She glanced around, worried, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. She was alone. She stepped decisively in the direction of her home. There was a little wooden corner store, and the light from its CLOSED neon sign was all the light there was. That store was her last comfort before the stretch of road she feared the most. She walked in front of the market quickly against the squalls that were turning her hair into a bird’s nest as she rushed through the darkness. The wind whistled in her ears, preventing her from really hearing anything.

Suddenly, she thought she heard a noise behind her, and she whipped around in panic. Her heart beat madly, but she saw nothing. She could see the red neon light shining in the distance, and nothing behind her. No man, no cars. She turned to resume her walk. About a hundred meters later, she glanced back again, to reassure herself. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. She was immobile and alone on the side of the road in total darkness.
Only halfway to go, and everything’s fine.

She’d taken another step before she felt his hands on her. A great force dragged her away from the road. She tried to cry out, but he had a hand over her mouth. Her mind exploded with panic and she fought, with all her might she fought, but she couldn’t see him and he held her from behind. His arm tightened around her neck. She couldn’t scream or even cough. She fought weakly. There was only panic. Everything went black and she lost consciousness. The road was now properly deserted. The only noise was the wind. In the desert, a few meters away, two headlamps flared. The engine engaged, muffled by the competing wind. Quietly, the vehicle pulled onto the road and spirited away into the night.

CHAPTER 51

“I’m not sure if this map’s got all the Mexican villages along the border,” said Namara, scrutinizing the huge map they had tacked up on the wall of the bedroom.

“It’s the best one I could find,” said Guerra, who was surfing the Internet on his laptop. The room was in a chaotic state with the piles of documents and the scattered papers over the table, the couches, and beds. Guerra and Namara had spent hours reviewing the churches and parishes in the region. Some looked like the church in question, but Namara had a clear picture in his head and he hadn’t seen it yet.

“If it’s not in Mexico, it’s gotta be in Texas,” he grumbled.

“Listen, we’ve inspected every bloody church in Texas and the surrounding areas. You rejected them. I don’t know what to tell you, apart from that the church isn’t there…”

“It’s gotta be! It’s definitely there,” said Namara thoughtfully as he pursued the top slice of the map once again, the American part.

“Namara, chrissake, it’s not there! You see it as well as I,” said Guerra impatiently as he hammered at his keyboard like a woodpecker.

“I know it’s not there, but it
has
to be there! This map’s probably old.”

“What’s the date on it?” asked Guerra.

“…Two-thousand-five?”

“It’s not that old, Danny. If the church was in the area, we would have found it on the map.

Namara sat next to Guerra and drank his coffee, watching him navigate through tourist sites where travellers had posted home videos, thinking that someone might profit from their experiences. They clicked on the link for the Texas page. Guerra searched through different home videos showing different types of foreigners in several locations. He was tired; he clicked through videos with no great interest. His hair was mussed and his eyes were reddened by the hours in front of the screen. Namara felt the same exhaustion until something made him leap from his chair. Guerra jumped.

“Stop the video! Pause, pause! Go back!”

“What, what is it?”

“Go back!!”

“Ok, shit! Don’t panic, I’m going back! Goddam spaz, I’m going to have an heart attack.”

Namara perched on the arm of his chair to stare at the video.

“That’s the church! That’s it,” said Namara, pointing excitedly.

“Are you sure!?”

“Yes. That’s the one I saw!”

A little white church with a gable and three bells appeared behind a smiling man who spoke to the camera. His ears perked up. The man was talking to his wife about the church’s charm, its rounded form and the pretty colour. His wife laughed from behind the shaky camera and indicated that they’d lost their way and stumbled upon the town of Sauvalito.

“Sauvalito… Sauvalito,” Namara muttered, leaping to his feet and staring at the map again. “You see, I told you… there’s no town by that name on this fucking map!”

“Wait a second,” said Guerra, tapping away at his keyboard. “Here, I found it. Sauvalito, Texas. Small town in Texas with a population of around two hundred! Look, they’re talking about the church. It would have been established in 1638 by the Franciscan monks to convert the Indians. Then the Americans conquered the territory. It’s practically on the Mexican border and it’s not too far from San Matanza! Basically, it’s an old Catholic hotspot-turned-small town. Not bad for a soldier, I think. Some days I’m really exceptional.”

“I’ll admit, you’re good.”

“Thanks!”

“But I’m not sure that it was actually built by the Franciscans.”

“Why would…”

“Here, think about it. It’s not on the 2005 map.”

“Yeah, but look at this online one, it’s clearly right there.”

“Yeah, but what’s the date on that map?”

“This year,” he said, squinting at the corner.

“The town didn’t exist in ten years ago, and it’s there now…”

“It’s probably because the mapmaker was a drunk. It happens.”

“Yeah, or maybe, the 2005 one is the right one.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Because Sauvalito didn’t exist back then! It’s why it wasn’t on the map!”

“Anyway, it says right here that your church was built in 1638, so the place had to exist.”

“I don’t think so. I bet you no Franciscan has ever set foot there. I’m thinking it was built between oh-five and now by whoever. The story about the Franciscans is just a myth to explain how it got there!”

“Ok… and who built it, and why?”

“I have no idea, but we’re going to find out.”