Silver Bullets (18 page)

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Authors: Elmer Mendoza,Mark Fried

Tags: #FICTION / Mystery & Detective / International Mystery & Crime

BOOK: Silver Bullets
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Thirty-Nine

Monday began badly despite the breakfast of sliced tongue in green sauce served by Trudis, who had been kept at bay by Luis Miguel's bodyguards for the entire show. Can you believe it, Lefty? Those assholes showed no respect, even for a miniskirt. Maybe they're faggots and wanted him all to themselves. That must be the case because they were as rude as could be; listen, the people from the DA's office were here early, you were reading and I didn't want to interrupt you, did you see? They only replaced the glass, they said those were their orders, can you believe it? Are they coming back? Of course not.

He called Briseño at home. Great, Mendieta, this is something you would know, do you think eggs Benedict should have ginger? Would it add a little pizzazz to their solemnity? I don't think so. That is precisely what I told Adelina, but she doesn't want to understand, I'm going to put her on so she knows it isn't just me. Better not, chief, I'm calling to let you know the people from the district attorney's office only put in new windowpanes, they were told not to touch the rest. Let me call Attorney Barraza, but for sure they'll fix everything, don't worry about that, right
now it's more important that you tell Adelina. . . . He hung up. He picked up an envelope from the telephone table. It contained that month's bill.

Surprise.

Trudis, what's this? He gave her two printed pages, 4,000 pesos, what does it mean all those calls to the same number? Four thousand? For what, if we barely use the telephone, you just use the cell. That's what I'm saying, this is a scam; however, something in her face made him insist: Okay, Trudis, do you know this number? Well, I'm not really sure, Lefty, would you like another Nescafé? You aren't sure? Whose number is it? Well, I think it's Walter Machado's. Walter Machado? Who called Walter Machado? Well . . . Trudis, don't tell me you believe in that crap. No, I don't believe in it, she was wiping her dry hands on her apron. So? It's just . . . You spent a fortune speaking with that guy who charges by the minute? If you want, take it from my wages bit by bit, just leave me enough to eat and to buy notebooks for the kiddies. You make me want to hand you over to Gori Hortigosa, why did you do that? Shall I tell you the truth? She flashed an innocent smile. You'd better or I'll lock you in the dungeon for three days. It's that I want to know who will be the father of my next child. Are you serious? Lefty, I still have my periods, he told me it would be a Luis or a Miguel, that's why I staked out Luis Miguel, I couldn't miss; on yesterday's news they said Miguel Ríos is coming next month, imagine that, the grandfather of rock; if you don't mind, at noon I want to go to sign up at the gym near Holy Cross Church, I want to tone up this part, she touched her behind, you know, if it's firm, no man can resist; listen, how did it go with the blonde, she's a looker, isn't she? What I want to know is how we are going to pay for this. Can I tell you how? The guys from
the DA brought you an envelope, I left it on your chest of drawers, they said your Christmas came early. Trudis, you are a disaster, truly. Are you accusing me of abusing your trust? He preferred to take refuge in his study. He read, he thought about Goga, and he smiled the whole time.

At noon he went out, he had to drop by headquarters and he had to give Castelo back his car. His own was ready at the garage.

He left the bullet with Ortega, who guessed it had been shot by a Beretta, probably the same one that killed Ezequiel Barraza. Mendieta was so keyed up that he went straight to visit Beatriz even though he knew it was useless; maybe the kid had told her something else. First he called Goga: How are you? Wanting more, Edgar, Mariana would like to tell you something. About? About someone who is hell-bent on you finding him. Mariana is the key? Just my luck. She thinks she saw the guy who shot at her outside the building. Uh oh. We'll be home all day, without Samantha. It's a miracle she left you on your own. Her father is ill and she's upset. I understand.

“This time he had Señorita Jéssica Guadalupe Pereira Ortiz in his sights. The silver-bullet murderer perpetrated the attack on the crowded beach in Altata when the young woman was playing with her puppy; the police assure us they are closing in, the evidence indicates he is a man with serious limitations, to put it another way: He's a dumbbell who could not possibly hurt any more decent people. For
Eyes on the Night
, this is Daniel Quiroz reporting.”

Mariana: Yesterday afternoon Luigi was really antsy, I know he can't go for a walk, but it was the usual time; I hate it when he gives me that suffering look as if I were betraying him, so I took him out, just to the door of the building, and I saw the guy,
hands in his pants pockets, leaning against a green SUV with tinted windows, he stared right at me and I felt a chill down my spine, Luigi started barking and he wouldn't stop until we were back inside the apartment, I looked out the window and he was gone. How can you be so sure? I don't know, we women always know. Feminine intuition, Goga agreed. It was also the look he gave me, filled with repulsion, concentrated hate; I don't know, the fact is he scared me. Yesterday you said he was young. Yes, from the way he ran, but now I see he's a full-grown man, muscular, wearing a baseball cap, tall, yes, more or less like you, thin too. What can you tell me about the SUV? Olive green, like a Cherokee, I didn't see more, I was scared to death and I rushed to the elevator with the dog, he wouldn't stop barking. Maybe you're his next target, tell me about when you threatened Canizales. I threatened him all the time, every time I saw him with Samantha, I never understood why she wanted to see him and it made me furious when she'd leave me at home or show up at some ungodly hour all satisfied, and yes, I asked the Gringo to take care of it, I gave him my savings, which by the way he kept, but Samantha's going to fix that and, knowing her, she will. Did you ever threaten Bruno Canizales in public? More than once, he always had girls with him, once it was the masseuse, what's her name? A couple of times that pretty girl who committed suicide, don't think I held back, I even let the girls have it, they wouldn't see the sun rise and all that. Why were you afraid to speak to me? Me, I never said anything like that, I've never been afraid of speaking with you, since I had nothing to do with it, the other day we didn't meet up because you were so late and I had things to do. What about the Gringo? Look, the Gringo gets moody, I think he's in love with Samantha, but I'm not worried because she isn't at all interested in him, on the other hand she was crazy about Canizales, in any case I'd like to see you try to lock him up,
he's Don Marcelo's favorite. But you just said he took all your savings. That was about eight months ago; Goga, if you want, take the bedroom that looks onto the river, Samantha and the boy are going to stay at her parents' house and I'm going to sleep in the other room, I'll ask Puro Natural to send up some juice, salad, and sandwiches; after all, you gotta eat and you gotta kiss 'cause this old world is turnin' to piss. Luigi wagged his tail.

Mariana left them alone. Goga opened two beers and served the detective tequila. Something's missing, he said. Haven't I kissed you? No, he said kissing her, it's that you don't smell, did you just bathe? You could say that, would you like me to put on perfume? Later. What do you make of the guy? He downed the tequila in one gulp and drank half the beer: He's got a screw loose. He must not know the case is closed. Probably, or he doesn't care. Does anything indicate there might be more than one? Nothing. Does the evidence make you fairly sure? He thought about telling her how once he was sure of her love and that turned into a catastrophe, but his cell phone rang. It was Zelda Toledo begging forgiveness. All right, but let this be the last time you make Monday into a saint.

There was a knock on the door; it was the food. Fruit juices in several flavors, salads, Del Rey sandwiches, and “ecological” quesadillas for everyone. They chatted like old friends and had fun watching Luigi eat lettuce dressed with Paul Newman's vinaigrette.

At six he said good-bye. He had to visit Beatriz. He called, and the girl let him know she was heading into Mass just then but in forty-five minutes she would available. Where are you? At San José Church in Los Pinos.

He promised Goga he would return later that night.

Cavalry charge. Mendieta. I know that, dummy, you don't need to say that on your own cell. I like my name, what's up? Nothing, it was from the same pistol and if you will allow me I think you're right, the murderer is looking to get you in his sights. In your case, what would you do? You are a policeman, jerk-off, I wouldn't say the best but certainly the least moronic, and if you are enjoying this, well, get into it. Thanks, oh, I want you to use your influence to block all long-distance calls to fortune-tellers, salesmen, and telemarketers from my home telephone. Even the Lovers' Hotline? You have that one all tied up. You bet.

Away from the door, the members of the gang were conferring in low voices. In the atrium the neighborhood women were trading recipes, old wives' tales, and praise for the kid with the bike. Abelardo Rodríguez and Dante, still clutching his cube, greeted him. The young man smiled: It looks like the only thing that brings us together is death, Detective. Don't say that, Señor Rodríguez, how's business? Okay, this government has not been kind to us, investment in the construction industry is minimal, care for a drink? He pulled out his silver-plated flask, forgive me, just for today, soon we'll drink in proper glasses and in a proper place. Mendieta took a sip. Have you found the guy who killed Attorney Canizales? We are on the verge, the murderer, we know he is a man, left a visible trail, he'll fall in a matter of hours. Well, congratulations, I'll stop thinking of the police as a band of muggers. There are two bands, one of them is good. The one you belong to, of course. Not at all, I'm on the other side and happy to be there. You're right, I can see you're totally relaxed, to your health; don't you get tense when a case is about to come together? What for, life is more than work. I heard on
Eyes on the Night
that you got attacked. It was nothing, just a wall torn to shreds, is Beatriz here? Rodríguez asked Dante to get his sister. She must be inside with Ezequiel's mother; listen, if you need anything to repair that wall, don't hesitate, I'm saying this as a friend.

Beatriz took him aside, something that did not please her father. He wants me to have an abortion, how could I do such a thing? It's all I have left of him, he told me that right during the wake and he keeps insisting, Papa can't think straight anymore; I'm afraid it's all that alcohol making him surly. Beatriz, forgive me, you said that Ezequiel was killed by a silver bullet, remember? He thought about telling her that the randy kid had slept with Paola just before her suicide, but he did not dare. Maybe it was the same person who killed Bruno Canizales, do you think they might have had a common enemy? I don't think so, Ezequiel detested Bruno, if he had been a bad person he would have killed him a long time ago, and if you want to know I'm not liking this one bit, what an awful ritual, his mama is seized up, she can't cry, can you believe that the father didn't even set foot in the funeral home? He probably won't come to the Mass either, the señora is so far gone not even the sun will thaw her. But you have your family by your side. What family? Well, Dante, yes, he's always there, as long as you don't take away his Rubik's cube he's no problem, my mother is with the señora, but my father just turned up and you can see what shape he's in; Mama thinks he's got another woman because he comes home with his shirts smudged, I think he can't find a way to get along without Paola. Ezequiel and I were going to talk the afternoon of the day he died, do you remember he said he was going to take a big step? I remember. Did he tell you anything else? He seemed to know who killed Canizales. Really? He
didn't tell me anything, only that Troy would burn. You didn't ask for details? Weren't you curious? To tell the truth, no, I was too upset. Okay, if you need anything, call me, say good-bye to your father for me, and help him out of that hole. Once I get out of my own.

Forty

In the small room, Marcelo Valdés closed his eyes. He had spent the entire day ruminating on the future. At his side, his wife flipped through fashion magazines. He drank from his mug of chamomile tea. When I became powerful I could not believe the feeling, it was a sensation I had never felt before, but it felt natural. It would come and go, come and go. I felt it in my chest. Thousands of men, it is a fact, stood to attention before me; telephone calls all day long and a receptionist or sometimes two answering that I was busy or I was with the president. Women. Great ones. Faking orgasms, saying they loved me, the ones that were not virgins confessing that no one had ever done it like me. What an idiot I was to believe them for so many years. My father, before he died, told me to be careful: My son, if you are going to continue down this path, don't turn into a jackal, that would be hideous, but it was already too late. Have you heard about unarmed people getting mowed down? I ordered it. Police corruption? It was me and them: them thanks to their hunger wages and me because I wanted everything. We financed musical groups, political campaigns, relief programs after hurricanes, fires, floods. My name was the name that came to everybody's
mind. Marcelo Valdés is a man, not a piece of crap. How many corridos have been written about me? Enough to last the whole fiesta. And now. He felt a lump in his throat. We can't even deal with a miserable policeman, a bastard who hates me despite the fact that I had nothing to do with his misfortunes. A tear rolled down his left cheek. And Samantha so immature, Daughter, you're so pretty but so impulsive. Minerva came over. They embraced. When they told me that old men cried at nothing I never believed it, it's because we don't know how to avoid stepping in the shit. He hugged her tight. You'll sort it all out, I'm sure of that; just one thing, darling, don't leave anything to your enemies; and about that policeman, leave him alone, I'd rather have him around, he's a witless foe that offers a bit of counterweight, and he will never lock her up, they wouldn't let him. Then he gave up trying to hold back his sobs.

About sixty-five feet away, the bodyguards were smoking and talking quietly.

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