An Inconsequential Murder (12 page)

Sometime during the interrogation or perhaps even before it started the victim had put the piece of paper in his mouth—a last foolishly heroic act, which tried to protect something or somebody.”

Finally Lombardo wrote into his little notebook:
“Questions: What did these letters and numbers mean? Why was he trying to hide the paper and why was it so important that he gave his life for it? Did the killers know about it and is that why they beat him half to death? What was the damned paper about?”

Dr. Figueroa also wrote about the young man’s heart: it was healthy and strong; it had not given out even under the stress of the beating. The young man had been small and a bit frail in life but he had taken it and not said a word!

Although the lab reports would take a few days to complete, Dr. Figueroa wrote that in his view the stomach contents showed no sign of anything unusual. The stomach was mostly empty. Obviously, the young man had not reached home to have his dinner. Dr. Figueroa’s final comment was that he would forward the toxicologist report on the fluid samples he had sent to the lab.

Dr. Figueroa
’s suggestion that he look for a spot near one of the large reservoirs formed by the many dams that surrounded Monterrey was not a trivial task.

The city was very large and
demanded a lot of water during the long, hot summers, so there were half a dozen large reservoirs within a half-hour drive. Also, a lot of the ranchers in the area kept ponds for their cattle and the desert to the south and southeast was riddled with stagnant waterholes left over from the rainy season.

W
hen the taxi stopped in front of the Investigations Department’s building Lombardo exclaimed, “But, there were those ashes! I’ll have to think about that.”

Chapter
14: When a Case Is Not Your Case

Lombardo strode up the steps of the Investigation
s Department’s entrance in his slow, weary way. The policeman on guard, with a heavy, bulletproof vest on, and an AR-15 at the ready, looked at him warily. They changed the guards frequently so this guy didn’t know him. Nowadays, anyone was susceptible to being bribed by the cartels and there had been rumors that since police departments were so rife with corruption and awash in cartel money bribes, the Army would soon take up policing the most dangerous cities, such as Juarez, Tijuana, and Monterrey.

The policewoman at the front desk motioned to him as soon as she saw him. “The Director said you were to go to his office as soon as you came in,” she said.

“
Ah, am I going to get a raise, a promotion, or a medal for good-conduct?” asked Lombardo while lighting a cigarette.

The police woman said, “Probably all three. You shouldn’t smoke in here. It’s a public building.”

“
Be sure to warn the cartel gunmen about that when they storm the place,” said Lombardo as he blew a plume of smoke into the air.

The
Director’s secretary opened her mouth to say something when Lombardo was about to open her boss’ door but he said, “He’s expecting me.”

The Director was his usual charming self. When he saw Lombardo come in he said, “Don’t you ever knock, Captain?”

“
I thought you had an ‘open door’ policy.”

“
Yeah, but you’re excluded--and put that damned cigarette out! This is a public building!”

“
I’m glad to see you’re so concerned about people’s health. Instead of worrying about my cigarette maybe you should hand out more of those bulletproof vests like the one that monkey at the door is wearing. They way things are going, cigarette smoke is not the main health hazard here.”

“
Damned funny,” said the Director as he scowled. “Look, I just want to let you know that you can forget about the Delgado case. We’ve been ordered to let the federal people handle it. The Public Ministry thinks it is drug related and so it falls under federal law.”

“
You know, there are, what, three or four dozen murders in this country every day. Why is everybody paying so much attention to this one all of a sudden? Or rather, telling me to pay attention to the fact that I should not pay attention to it?”

“
Who cares?” rejoined the Director casually. “All you need to know is that it’s not our case anymore and that you should send the file to the Federal Prosecutor’s office as soon as possible.”

“
What case file,” Lombardo retorted, “I haven’t even had a chance to write up my report and nothing will be coming in from the forensic people until they are done in a couple of days.”

“
OK, so write up your report and put it on file. Send that if that’s all we have and tell forensics to send their stuff over to the Federal Prosecutor’s office.”

Lombardo said nothing about the information that Dr. Figueroa had given him but as he turned to leave he said, “This is not a drug-related case, you know—at least not in the sense that the victim was involved in drug dealing or anything like it.”

“
I repeat,” said the Director, “it is not our case anymore. If they think it is drug related, then it is drug related. And, if they want to handle it, they will handle it. OK?”

Lombardo shrugged and said, “OK. It’s your circus so I guess you say who swings from the trapeze and who’s a clown.” He left the Director’s office.

Lombardo went to his desk and sat down to fill in a standard report form. When he was finished, he took the form to the Archives room and asked the policewoman in charge to make a copy for their files and to send the original to the Federal Prosecutor’s office.

“
So, you’re off the case, Captain?” asked the policewoman as she took the report from him.

“
So they say,” said Lombardo.

Chapter
15: An Invitation to a Cruise

Governor
Sanchez Reyes was alone in his office when the secure cell phone rang. He ran to pick it up from its cradle.

“
Hullo, what a pleasant surprise, I…”

“
Yes, Governor,” the gruff voice interrupted. “Listen I am calling because I need to see you tonight.”

“
Tonight? Why, yes, of course, are you coming here or…”

“Of course not; why would I go there. No, listen. I am inviting some of our friends to join me on my yacht. We are docked in the Acapulco marina, the one on the northern side of the bay. Fly down here tonight and I’ll send someone to pick you up. Don’t fly commercial, get an air taxi and tell the guy to bring you to the airport for private planes. Got that?”

“Yes, but can you tell me a bit more about this reunion?”

“You’ll find out all about it when you get here.”

“Yes, but I mean, is there anything I should prepare or bring along?”

“Just your appetite and your legendary drinking ability,” said the gruff voice and it laughed.

“All right. What time are you expecting us?”

“Be here by, say, 6:30 in the afternoon. We’re going to take a little cruise and discuss some business so bring your Hawaiian shirt, eh?” He laughed again.

“How long are we going to be…”

“We will sail for Mazatlán as soon as everyone is here so you’ll be able to fly home from there early the next morning.”

Before the Governor could say anything else, the other man hung up.

The Governor looked at the phone for a few seconds and then put it down. He opened a drawer with a key he took from his pocket and took out a leather bound notebook. He wrote an entry: “BZ called. Wants to meet in Aca tonight.” He dated it and wrote down the time.

BZ was the code name that the Governor used when writing in his log any dealings with the President’s cousin. He had started the log the day he had been asked to join the faction of the Party that supported the presidential candidacy of Leobardo Contreras. When he was named as a member of the group that would help to draw up the candidate’s platform and positions on issues, he was very flattered and thought that it might even lead to a Cabinet position. But when the President’s cousin started using the platform committee to push the drug legalization issue, he thought it wise to keep an accurate record, if for no other reason than for protection against “eventualities.”

He buzzed his personal assistant, “I will need to fly to Acapulco this afternoon. Please get me an air taxi, not a reservation on a commercial flight, and put it on the special account, OK?”

“OK. Will the pilot wait for you or...?”

“No, I will come back by other means; get me on the first plane out of Mazatlán tomorrow morning,” he said.

“To come back here?”

“Of course to come back here,” he said a bit irritated.

The Governor then picked up the secure phone and called Dean Herrera and after the usual greetings he said, “Dean Herrera, I have been called to a meeting tonight with our mutual friends and I’m sure they are going to ask me about the, uh, situation with the information we have.”

“Yes, Governor, well, I have a man working on that.”

“What do you mean? What do you have him doing?”

“I asked him to look into what Victor was doing the night, he, uh, the night of his unfortunate, uh, the night of his death. I did not say specifically what it is I was looking for but rather I asked him to tell me generally what Victor was doing.”

“And how is that going to help us?”

“I think he will find the files, report that they are encrypted, and, most importantly, he will be able to tell us if anyone has had access to the files, or worse, has copied them.”

“If somebody got hold of them, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“That depends; you see, if they got them after Victor encrypted them, they will be no good to them—unreadable.”

“But, will we know one way or the other, that is, if they got them before or after they were made unreadable?”

“Oh, yes. He will be able to tell us.”

“OK. Look, I am leaving around four or four thirty in the afternoon, so if you know anything before that, or even after, while I am on the flight, call me.”

“Right, Governor.”

“Who is this person who is helping us now?”

“He has worked here for quite a while. He worked under Victor. His name is David López.”

“Is he trustworthy?”

“Oh, yes. He’s a loyal employee.”

“In this business,” said the Governor, “that means nothing. Don’t tell him more than you have to and keep him away from the press and the police.”

“I will, sir.”

The Governor hung up and made another entry into his log then he put the notebook back into the drawer, which he locked.

He buzzed his personal assistant again, “Call my house and tell my wife to send me a small overnight bag with my shaving kit, some chino trousers, Bermudas, and a couple of print summer shirts. Oh, and two sets of underwear. Tell them I need them within the hour. After you do that, come in here because we are going to have to reschedule a couple of things.”

The Governor sat back and stared out the windows. The President’s cousin’s call had made him quite uneasy. Things were getting very complicated. Those damned email files were becoming a threat to everyone.

He sighed and said, “I wish I had never volunteered to keep them at the University. What a damned fool I was.”

Chapter
16: The Team Flies Home

Two of the men were waiting by the Aeroméxico counter while the third one was in a telephone booth. He was not using the booth’s phone; he was using a cell phone.

“
Yes. Yes. There was a problem. I’d rather talk about it in person, not now. Yes, all three of us. We’re on the next plane and should be in Guadalajara in a couple of hours. OK. Where? I’ll be there.”

The man slid his phone shut and walked over to the two that were by the Aeroméxico counter.

“
He wants us back today,” he said to them.

The black man shrugged, “So we are going back. No problem.”

“
Was he pissed?” asked the other man.

“
He’s always pissed.” The sound system announced their flight. “You two wait here. I will go talk to the security guys.”

The black man’s eyes, invisible behind the dark glasses, saw the team leader walk over to the security man standing by the x-ray machine. The team leader said something to the security man and then discreetly showed him identification. The team leader turned and nodded toward the black man and his partner. The security man said something and went off. He returned with another man who shook hands with the team leader. They talked and the second security man shook his head several times. The team leader finally assented and walked back to the black man and his partner.