The Jaguar (21 page)

Luis flicked to a classical music channel. He needed to think and began to pace up and down the room, a thick chunk of bread forgotten in his hand. The news report would have been officially sanctioned by the state government. Almost certainly that meant the family was losing its influence, which in turn meant someone at a high level already knew that not just Felipe, but also Paulo, were dead. The report implied criticism of both police and state officials, suggesting that someone was looking to install a new political regime. It made the family look vulnerable and Luis had no doubt that Paulo's murder would soon be reported too. They were preparing people for his family's demise and he wasn't going to let it happen.

Luis ascended the stairs to his bedroom: it was expansive and luxurious, but had never felt like his own. As he closed the door again and shuffled down the corridor, he was overwhelmed with fatigue. Entering the small room he had once shared with Alfredo, he found both single beds made up. Luis tossed his clothing carelessly to the floor and wrapped himself in a space-themed quilt. Within moments he was sleeping like the child he would like to have been.

Gennaro called the next morning as Luis enjoyed a late and leisurely breakfast. Sunshine streamed in from the rose garden his mother had designed, and played around the crockery and glass-wear. The housekeeper was pouring coffee. The sound of gunfire on the other end of the line was so incongruous that at first it didn't register.

“Luis, I am at the Catalina. Marcelo called and asked to meet me here. He said he had information about Eusabio. He didn't turn up, but at least twenty of his men did. They opened up before we even saw them. They've shot up the trucks and we've lost at least three people. The rest are in good shape, but we may have to fight our way out.”

Luis studied a rose bush. So Marcelo and Barrio Fuerte had shown their hand. As they could suddenly muster so many men south of the border, Xterra must be pulling the strings. Eusabio would be with Marcelo, or possibly trying to do a deal with Xterra. That would explain why he wasn't at the ranch.

“Gennaro, is there any sign of Eusabio? I think he is with Barrio Fuerte.”

There was a long series of expletives on the other end of the line, followed by a burst from a semi-automatic weapon.

“Gennaro.”

“
Si
.”

“If you meet him, shoot him in the balls for me, won't you?”

“It will be a pleasure, Don Luis.”

“Don't worry about getting your men out,” Luis continued. There's a cleaner's cupboard at the far end of the corridor on the third floor. It's full of enough weaponry to start a small war. You will have to break open the lock.”

Gennaro laughed. “Your father always was prepared for anything. That's why it took a stinking traitor like Eusabio to get to him. Barrio Fuerte aren't going to know what's hit them.”

“And there's a reason why Papa chose Hotel Catalina as our base. Remember him saying that there always has to be a rear exit? Well there is. Go to room 307 - again you will probably need to break in. If you open the wardrobe doors, you'll get a nice surprise.”

Gennaro chuckled incongruously over the rattle of bullets. His tone was suddenly detached, also unusually familiar. “Luis, do you remember when I would read stories to Alfredo at the ranch. You'd scoff and say you were too old for bedtime stories, but you'd listen to this one. It was called The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Do you remember, Luis?”

“I remember. You always were a good godfather. My parents chose well.” Luis' tone was flat, but he managed to resist the urge to tell Gennaro to get a grip. “Alfredo is on his way home. It will be better for both of us when he is here.”

Gennaro mumbled something half audible in agreement.

Luis went back to business. “Take out the panel at the back of the wardrobe. You'll find a small door. The code on the lock is nearly the same as the room: 0307. Through the door is an old public records office we also own. There are exits onto three different streets.”

“
Fantastico
. I'll leave a few men here to keep Barrio Fuerte occupied then the rest of us will attack from the rear.”

“Any sign of the police?”

“Nothing, the street is empty. I haven't seen a single vehicle. They've probably set up a roadblock at a safe distance, as usual. I shall ensure the authorities have plenty of bodies to clean up. They'll earn their salaries today.”

“Do you want me there?”

Gennaro thought for a moment. “No, please stay where you are. The ranch is our safest base and, if we lose that, we lose the poppy fields.”

“Good luck, old friend.”

“I don't need luck, just a few bigger weapons.”

Luis made out the first half of a barked instruction, as he touched the screen to end the call. He didn't want to hear more.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Tulum

The beach was dark. As the fire fell slowly inward, collapsing upon a pile of hot embers, some people were drawn in with it, and others lost interest and went elsewhere. The children had suffered the early smoke just long enough to sample the sea bass. Nobody knew what they had been up to since, but the occasional conspiratorial shush or squeal suggested they were not far away. The Tanners and the Morgans had volunteered to help Carlos move the canoes, after he complained that they had gone unused. Loud voices revealed that they had then headed for the bar. The remaining group was sitting either on logs or perched on the edge of sunbeds, pulled up into the circle. Discarded plates and a scattering of beer cans were pressed into the sand, filling the empty spaces. Cesar was next to Laura. David sat opposite, alongside Ethan. Marcus and Felicity perched none-too-comfortably on pieces of wood. Beyond the splash of fire, moonlight caught each ridge of ocean spray. The breeze had grown stronger, and everyone was leaning close in to the flames to keep warm.

“Hello.” Laura looked up and recognised the silhouettes of the Mexican couple she had met that afternoon.

“Do you mind if we join you? I fear we have been abandoned by our children.”

Laura began the introductions then paused in slight embarrassment, realising she could not remember the husband's name.

“Roberto, my name is Roberto -pleased to meet you all.”

Marcus leapt into the darkness to retrieve another sunbed.

“Did you have a good swim?” Laura asked politely.

“Yes, but it was too hot for a picnic. Our children really enjoyed the football game earlier.” Roberto looked at David. “They thought you were really funny.”

David smiled politely, but said nothing. Laura picked up the conversation again.

“I met Sofia and Roberto after lunch, when I went for a walk. They're from Mexico City.”

“Somewhere I've always been curious to visit,” Ethan observed.

“You should go,” Roberto replied. “It is really good for tourists now, although perhaps too cold at this time of year. The air is much cleaner than it used to be, and they have tidied up a lot of the historic buildings in El Centro. It is a very pleasant place to walk.”

“Would it be safe for us?” Felicity enquired.

“Always you tourists ask the same question. Mexico is a huge country, but when the media report on organised crime, it is Mexico this... Mexico that. Do you feel safe here?”

“Yes,” Felicity responded, “but, to be honest, I'm not sure how safe I'd feel if I wasn't with a group.”

“And do you think we would feel any different in Manchester, or in London? Mexico City is like any big city: there are a few places not to go and people whom it is best to avoid, but that is life. In the end, you either stay home or you take a small risk.”

Sofia, his wife, interjected. “We often host business clients from the United States. They are told by their bosses to come, and some of them are quite anxious. Roberto gets frustrated when they will not let him out of their sight. But you are different: you have chosen to be here. So what brings each of you to our country?”

Nobody was prepared for such a big question, but it struck a chord. Some reached for their beers, whilst others stared deeper into the flames. The halo of light shut out the rest of the world, creating a kind of confessional. It can be easier to share a truth with strangers.

“Well,” said Ethan, eventually, “I'm here looking after my baby sister, Felicity,” he half bowed in her direction and hiccupped, “who has had enough of men, but is scared there'll be too many bugs in the jungle.”

Felicity stared at him quizzically for several seconds, clearly not amused. “Well I,” she announced, “am here because my idiot brother was sacked from his job and doesn't think that I know.”

Ethan lost his grip on a beer can, catching it again with a splash just before it hit the ground. He was about to respond when David beat him to it.

“I came to Mexico because my girlfriend booked a surprise holiday for me, but I'm really here because I'm hopeless at making decisions for myself and I never got over the only other exotic holiday I've ever taken.”

Everybody in the circle leaned still closer and Sofia took the opportunity to put her arm around her husband. There was an expectant pause, but David said no more.

Marcus thought for a moment then decided to speak. “You know, David, Culjinder is not married. I know she's part of a large family but, according to her, she's everybody's favourite Auntie.”

“Who is Culjinder?” Felicity looked befuddled.

David did not hear her speak. His mind was overwhelmed and his body paralysed. Felicity was about to repeat the question when Laura placed a restraining hand gently upon her arm.

“You know,” Laura began, “I thought I was here for adventure, but actually I just needed to get away.” She stole a furtive glance at Marcus, who was still focused on David. “You see, just before I went to university, my father had a stroke. It was tough going for about a year afterwards, but he made a full recovery.” Laura paused and met David's concerned gaze. “My father and I are especially close because my mother died when I was young. I could talk to him about virtually anything. The trouble is that I no longer can. There's no connection anymore and he's always angry with me about something. I feel as though it's him I'm grieving for, even though he's doing fine.”

In her typically direct manner, out of the shadows, Dana spoke. She had been standing in the sand behind Marcus for the last few minutes, unseen since her return, and eavesdropping from a distance. “Do you think that your father changed, or was it you?”

Marcus jumped up suddenly and, to everyone's surprise except David's, he and Dana embraced. Dana's question was forgotten by all but Laura herself, as others looked to the couple for some explanation of their new found intimacy.

“Look,” said Dana, “I know this doesn't look particularly professional, but I think it's best to be open with you all about Marcus and I. Unfortunately, it also shouldn't make too much difference, as I can't accompany you tomorrow. We've a late booking from an important business delegation, so I'm needed back at the resort. Still, the most important thing is that I've brought everybody's kit back with me. I can take your dirty laundry away, when I leave again in the morning.”

Marcus looked briefly crestfallen then rallied to distribute the newly arrived luggage with the help of Cesar. Sofia and Roberto wished everybody well with the expedition then went off to look for their children. Felicity and Ethan decided to join the others at the bar. Neither Laura nor David felt like leaving. As soon as they were alone, Laura moved to sit next to him and reached for an unopened can of beer in the sand.

“Wow,” David exclaimed; “too much information!”

“I understand exactly how you're feeling. It's funny, isn't it... we spend half our lives worrying about what people do to us and forget all about the impact we have on them.”

“I know Culjinder remembers me. It was the way she spoke when she called to arrange this holiday: casual, forced, nervous and concerned, all at the same time. I wonder how else she felt, when I didn't recognise her?”

“She wouldn't have expected you to, David. Both she and your girlfriend... What is her name?

“Phoebe.”

“They both felt that this was where you needed to be. I would hold on to that, if I were you.”

David reached for Laura's beer and took a long, slow draught from it himself. “I
am
enjoying it here. I thought I'd be a lot more stressed. It does feel as though this is what I'm meant to be doing. I've spent most of my adult life feeling exactly the opposite.”

“Whereas I, to be honest, am getting more and more confused.” Laura snatched the can from David's hand and took another swig. “I'm not sure what I'm meant to be doing. Marcus is organising bags, whilst I sit here feeling like a guest, rather than a member of staff, despite sleeping in a dormitory.”

“Laura,” responded David with concern, “you've made this trip for me so far. I can't imagine anyone looking after me better than you've done. Every time I've made a fool of myself, you've helped to turn the situation into something positive.”

“I do enjoy helping people, I admit. Perhaps that's what I should be doing? Maybe that was the problem with my father?” There was a metallic crack as Laura buried a thumb into the side of the beer can. “I started helping to take care of him, rather than the other way around. He's a proud man and probably resented that. Of course, at the same time, I was growing up and becoming more independent.”

“With me, it's the opposite.” David brushed at the sand with a foot. “When people I care for like Phoebe need my support, I'm not there for them. Somehow, I can't separate my own trivial neuroses from real problems. The ironic thing is that when I do help someone, I enjoy it as much as you do.”