The Mexico Run (26 page)

    Yes, those two days were happy and almost carefree. There was Lynn, of course; there was also one other thing. When we returned from a shopping tour in town on Wednesday evening, a new guest had checked into La Casa Pacifica. I think I instinctively knew exactly who he was from the very moment we walked into the lounge.

    He was sitting alone at the bar, a short, obese man wearing a white, linen suit and a silk shirt. He was completely bald, unusual in a Latin, and he was drinking rum and Coca-Cola. He was a man who appeared to be somewhere in his late forties until he smiled, and then there was something very youthful-looking about him.

    He had liquid-brown eyes, a cafe au lait complexion, and the whitest set of teeth I had ever seen.

    When Billings introduced him as Senor Santiago, he bowed graciously and invited us to join him in a drink.

    I had been expecting him, of course, but somehow or other his sudden appearance bothered me. I guess I had been secretly hoping that Ann and her sister would have left before his arrival.

    

    

    On the following day Ann, her sister, and I visited an old Spanish mission, and we were away until early in the evening. I had not seen Santiago all day, and he was nowhere in sight when we returned that night and had dinner at La Casa Pacifica.

    It had been a long day, and we were all tired, and it was decided the two girls would rest up after dinner and go to bed early. There had been a letter waiting for Ann when we returned to the lodge, and it was from her office. After she read it, she turned to me and said, "They want me to come back a little earlier than I had planned. It seems there's a sudden press of work and they would like me on the job next Monday morning."

    "In that case, Ann," I said, "it might be a good idea if you spend one more day here and then we can all drive up to the border together and you can have a leisurely trip back home, stopping for a day along the way.
You
did want to see the petrified forest, as I recall."

    She nodded. "It would be nice if you could come all the way with us," she said.

    "Perhaps I can," I said. "I would certainly like to. I have some things I must do here still, of course, but I will see if I can arrange it."

    We sat in the cocktail lounge for an hour or so after dinner, and then they decided to go to their rooms, and we said goodnight.

    Carlos Santiago was sitting in the big, leather chair by the window in the yellow suite when I returned to my own room for the night.

    He said nothing as I closed the door behind me, and when I walked across the room he stood up and handed me the torn half of the fifty-dollar bill.

    I took my half out of my wallet and matched it.

    "It is time we talked," he said.

    We both sat down. He waited a moment or two and then again spoke.

    "Your young ladies," he said, "they have retired early this evening."

    "They were tired," I said, rather shortly.

    He nodded.

    "Tell me, Mr. Johns," he said. "They are old and good friends, are they not?"

    "I don't believe," I said, "that it's necessary to include them in our conversation."

    "I am afraid that it is necessary," he said. "Anything that you do for the next few days must of necessity be a part of our conversation. After all, our organization is investing a considerable sum of money in you. We like to know everything there is to know about the people with whom we do business."

    "The young ladies have nothing to do with my business associations," I said. "They are merely friends. In any case, they will be returning to the States the day after tomorrow. I'll be seeing them as far as the border and then I will be returning immediately."

    He was thoughtful for several minutes, saying nothing Then he looked up. "The older one," he said. "I understand she's employed by a law firm in San Francisco. And the younger one, her sister, is a schoolgirl. Am I correct?'

    I looked at him sharply. I wondered where he got his information. Once more I thought of Captain Hernando Morales. I was more convinced than ever that Morales and Dr. Constantine were not complete strangers to one another.

    "Mr. Johns," he said, "I think we had better clear something up. We didn't come to you, you came to us You offered us a proposition. You made a deal to do certain things for a certain amount of money. It's too late now to change the terms of that deal. You've beer around long enough to know that in this business you don't resign. Once you commit yourself, you're committee all the way. You were told that you would have to follow instructions and you agreed to do so. If you had reservations, you should have brought them up at the beginning It's too late to do it now. If I have an interest in the two girls you've been seeing these last few days, there's a reason for it."

    "I didn't agree to involve anyone but myself," I said "You agreed to be responsible for conveying a certain package across the border for us. It is our business to see that you do it and you do it in the safest possible way so as not to jeopardize the operation. We think we know a little more about what is safe and what is not safe in conducting this kind of an operation."

    I didn't say anything. I just nodded for him to go on.

    "I have not been wasting my time since I've been in town, and it's my opinion that the safest way would be for us to see that the package which is to cross the border crosses in the camper that your friends are driving."

    I shook my head.

    "To begin with," I said, "they would never agree to it." He stopped me. "They don't have to agree to it. They're not going to know about it. That should be obvious."

    Once more I shook my head.

    "I will not, under any conditions, put those two girls in danger," I said. "I will not have them involved."

    "I don't think you understand me. The only way you can keep them out of danger is by following orders."

    "If you think I'm going to let two young girls cross the border carrying a half a million dollars in narcotics, unescorted, you're out of your mind."

    "They won't exactly be unescorted. We ourselves have no intention of letting that huge an investment get out of our sight. You will be accompanying them, but you will not be in the car with them."

    "And just how do I manage that?"

    "You're driving a Jaguar, I believe. When you leave Ensenada, you will be following directly behind them. You will be armed. You will follow them to the border and you will cross the border in your car, immediately after they have crossed in the camper. The chance of them being stopped and searched is remote, but I can assure you that no cursory search will turn up anything.

    "The fact that they will be unaware of the narcotics is an additional guarantee that they will avoid difficulty. We have checked them out, and there is no reason they should fall under suspicion.

    "Once in the United States you will arrange to rendezvous with them at a certain predetermined location some distance inland from the border."

    "And supposing they are stopped at the border," I said. "And supposing the camper is subject to a complete search which turns up the narcotics."

    "We are prepared to take that calculated risk. In that case, however, your friends would still not be in serious trouble. They have no records. They have never been involved in anything of this sort, and it is a known fact that drugs are frequently planted in the luggage and in the cars of innocent tourists crossing the border. When, convictions are obtained, the persons involved have either been mixed up with the law before or are unable to prove their innocence. There is no possibility that these two particular girls would be held.

    "We've had a good deal of experience, and we certainly wouldn't be willing to take the risks that we are taking unless we were sure of our facts."

    He stood up then and stared at me for several moments. "You are receiving a good deal of money for your part in this," he said. "We are risking a great deal on you. I want you to think it over and remember what I said before. If you are really interested in the welfare of your friends, as well as your own welfare, you will follow instructions. I shall say goodnight to you now."

    I thought it over, and the more I thought, the less I liked it. My instinct was to go and get Ann and her sister and pile them into a car and head for Tijuana and the border as fast as I could drive. There was every chance that I could get them across safely.

    The plan had one flaw. I might get them across, get across myself, but there would be no returning to Mexico.

    I remembered what Dr. Sandor Constantine had told me two days before. They didn't allow for failure.

    I had a second thought. Angel Cortillo. I might get to the States, and I might be safe once I got there, but Angel Cortillo would be destroyed.

    A half an hour later I walked out to the bar. Billings was about to close up. He was alone. I told him that I wanted to get in touch with Captain Morales as soon as possible. It was vitally important.

    I was still sure in my own mind that Morales was a part of the whole thing, but I also remembered Dr. Constantine's advice at that last moment before I left him. He had said, "And I want you to sever any relationship with Captain Morales."

    I played it safe. I told Billings to explain to Captain Morales that I did not want to see him at La Casa Pacifica, but to let me know where and when I could meet him.

    I went back to my room to wait, and I took Carlos Santiago's advice. I thought it over. I had a lot of thinking to do. I was trying to figure the whole thing out.

    Morales had sent me to Dr. Constantine, and I wondered exactly how much truth there was to his reason for wanting me to make that connection.

    The possibility that he was planning a hijack of Constantine's narcotic-smuggling operation was foremost in my mind. It would be a logical plan.

    On the other hand, I strongly suspected that Morales and Constantine were working together. Should anything happen during the course of the smuggling operation, should I be picked up and attempt to turn state's evidence, Morales would be in the clear.

    He wasn't making the deal with me. The deal was being made by Constantine through a man named Carlos Santiago, who without doubt would disappear if anything were to go wrong.

    There was no question in my mind that Morales was using me, was blackmailing me into doing what he wanted me to do, was using the frame-up of Angel Cortillo as his lever. But I couldn't be sure as to exactly what his motive was.

    One thing I was sure about. Somebody wanted a highly valuable package of narcotics taken into the United. States, and I had elected myself to see that it got there.

    More than two hours passed, and I was about to give up, have a nightcap and go to bed, when the knock came at the door. It was Billings. He gave me the message verbally.

    "The Pancho Villa Cantina on Alvarez Street," he said. "Be in front of it at exactly three-thirty, and stay in your car."

    He turned and left without another word. I looked down at my watch and saw that it was a quarter to three.

    I pulled up in front of the Pancho Villa at twenty after three and turned off the headlights of my car. I had no difficulty finding a parking place. I waited.

    I didn't have long. This time when he showed up he wasn't wearing a uniform and he wasn't in an official police car. He was walking. He opened the right hand door of the car and crowded in next to me.

    "You wanted to see me, Senor Johns?"

    "I do," I said. "Shall we talk here or would you prefer…"

    "We can talk here. Am I to assume that Santiago has made his contact with you?"

    "He has, and I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

    "Just what don't you like? Perhaps you'd better tell me the whole story."

    I repeated the conversation I had had with Carlos Santiago earlier in the evening. When I got through I said, "There is only one thing wrong with it. I am not going through with it."

    "And just why, Senor Johns? It seems a very feasible plan. You are taking a minimum of risk and you're getting paid fifty thousand dollars."

    It brought me up short. I had mentioned nothing about the fifty thousand dollars. I'd said that I was getting a certain percentage, but I had not told him the exact sum when I had talked to him previously.

    "How did you know I was to get fifty thousand dollars, captain?"

    "Simple matter of deduction. You told me that the package would be worth a half a million dollars on the streets in the United States. I've been involved in this business long enough to know what kind of deals are made with mules. But continue. What is it you don't like?"

    "I am not going to have those two girls involved."

    He gave me the same arguments that Santiago had given me and then when he was through with that he went one step further.

    "The fact is, Senor Johns," he said. "You have no choice in this matter. Back out of this deal now and I don't think you would live long enough to get to the border. Dr. Constantine isn't a man who makes a deal, gives his confidence to someone and then lets them back off. There is an additional factor you're losing sight of. Your friend Angel Cortillo.

    "I have made you an offer. I've told you that I would see that Cortillo is released from prison if you keep your end of the bargain. If you fail to and should by any chance manage to avoid being killed, I can assure you that Cortillo will be convicted of first-degree murder. I will go even further. I will do everything I can to see that you are involved as an accessory before the fact. I don't think it would be hard to build up a good and sufficient circumstantial case. Give this some thought."