The Jaguar (26 page)

“Where are you heading?” he enquired.

“Err... I believe the place is called Muyil.”

“Ah, Muyil. You know there's a legend about that place.”

David turned again, intrigued.

“At the time of the conquest there was a man from this town who fled to Muyil. He realised the Spaniards were only men, despite their guns, horses and armour, which none of our people had seen before. He organised a defence of the town. It is said he was successful, but nobody knows what happened after that. There's a carving in the jungle out there, which some people say is his likeness. And there are still families close to Tulum that claim him as one of their own. They hold a ceremony in the ruins every year. If I remember correctly, his name was Mulac Hunapu.”

There was a call from outside. Some of those in the van were impatient to depart.

“Muchas gracias, Señor. Me gustó mucho hablar con usted.”

The shopkeeper beamed at David in surprise and appreciation.

“Muy buen Señor, y buena suerte. Good luck.”

David hurried away, smiling broadly. He was beginning to find his voice in this country.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Tulum road

“So how did you get that scar?” Alfredo leaned stiffly across from the passenger seat and pinched his brother's cheek. With an involuntary jerk, Luis recoiled. “Now you are a real bandido. If you wore a sombrero, you would look like Pancho Villa.”

“Brother, I
am
a gangster and so are you. We are Mafioso although, God knows, I'd rather be anything else at this moment.”

“So, tell me?”

Luis sighed and cast a glance at his brother. Alfredo still looked tired and his face was covered in scratches from the previous day's experiences. The clothes that had been found for him were ill-fitting and styled for a more mature person. Hugo's wife had made the most of her opportunity to discard some of her husband's oldest and least loved items. “O.K. brother, if you must know, I was at home in El Paso cutting the lawn. The mower jammed. When I tried to release it, something flew into my cheek. Getting my face stitched up again was bloody painful.”

Alfredo began a chuckle which descended uncontrollably into a deep belly-laugh. Luis could not help but join in.

“So, my mafioso brother was mowing the lawn,” Alfredo taunted. “Better not tell father.”

Luis' face fell. He had been putting off this moment all morning.

“Alfredo, our papa is dead. Gennaro is dead. Uncle Felipe is dead. We are Las Contadonas now. We two are all that is left.”

His baby brother looked as though he had been shot in the stomach. He was struggling to breathe and his face lost all colour. Both stared fixedly ahead for some time, the road slipping endlessly beneath their vehicle.

“...but how?”

“Eusabio, Marcelo, Barrio Fuerte, Xterra? I don't know - all I know is that our enemies are now numerous and powerful. We need to get away to re-group. There will be many people who will still support us, but they will be difficult to reach. Once we are safe, we can think about a plan.”

“What about the ranch?”

“Yes, that is safe and I left it well defended. The local police will look after our interests there. They won't be easy to turn against us. That is where we'll go, when we can.”

“Why not now?” Alfredo was clearly beginning to panic.

“It is different down here. The police only care about the tourists. They are bound to know what happened at the villa by now. No doubt Eusabio and his cronies have embellished your exploits. The airports will be covered. Our best bet is to keep heading south. They'll be looking for you alone, which gives us an edge. In a few hours we shall be in Belize. We'll get as close as we can then find a boat to take us past the border. It should be easy, as long as we don't waste time.”

Both fell silent. Alfredo put his head in his hands and soon Luis could hear his stifled sobs. Luis wanted to cry too. He just didn't know how. He also wanted to be in Alex's arms, but that wasn't going to happen either. He could feel every mile of the distance between them, but he must stay focused and keep driving. The sections of concrete, the street lights and the bridges: everything seemed to be marking out time. It felt like a countdown, and Luis could not relax.

Eventually, Alfredo began to regain his composure. He sat up and drew the back of one hand slowly across his face. He took a deep breath - there were so many questions he needed to ask. But even before he regained the power of speech he realised he would not be able to handle the answers. He slumped back into his seat and stared blindly out of the window.

“Shit!” Luis thumped the dashboard in frustration.

Alfredo swivelled and stared uncomprehendingly at his brother.

“There's a bloody roadblock ahead.”

Alfredo fumbled to open the glove compartment. Beside a fresh flask of coffee was one of the automatic pistols Hugo had provided. The gun was warm to the touch.

Luis grabbed his brother's arm, gripping the wheel tightly with his other hand to avoid a swerve. “Put it back and keep calm. It's a routine check. All we have to do is avoid drawing attention to ourselves. When we get there, just look bored. If we do get pulled over, let me do the talking.”

Alfredo nodded. Both took a deep breath and stared at the line of slowing vehicles in front of them. “Here comes the first patrol car. Sit a little lower and pretend that you're sleeping.”

A single officer leaned across his vehicle, looking irritable and adjusting his sunglasses. There was no sign that he had noticed the brothers as they drove by. Fifty metres later they slowed to a crawl. In the coned off lane ahead were three more police vehicles. A jeep and a truck had been pulled over. Two officers stood guard, cradling carbine rifles. Two others directed the traffic, one using a languid arm to keep things moving. Everything was being waved straight through, with only a cursory glance. By the time Alfredo opened his eyes and sat up, they were already on their way again.

Luis exhaled deeply as he steadily increased the pressure on the accelerator pedal. Alfredo unscrewed the flask, clasped a mug between his knees and began to pour. They were almost out of sight, heading under a bridge that would see them clear. Just beyond it a taxi sat at an angle on the hard shoulder, pressed as far back as possible against the encroaching undergrowth. Alfredo looked up from his pouring and cast a casual glance at the car. He did not know the eyes he met, but there was no mistaking their own look of recognition. He jumped and swore as he felt the heat and dampness of the coffee penetrate through to his skin. He grabbed his trouser leg and shook it vigorously.

“It's them.”

Luis didn't respond. He hadn't needed to be told. As soon as he saw the vehicle, he knew that Eusabio would be in it. He was staring into the rear-view mirror, waiting for it to move. It didn't. They were still accelerating, slipping past traffic in the outside lane, but without excessive speed.

“Why aren't they coming?”

“They're working with the police. Either there will be another roadblock ahead or, pretty soon, we're going to be in a race.”

“What do we do?”

“We change vehicle. Get everything together. We're only going to get one shot at this.”

Luis steered into the inside lane. Ahead he could see a line of two storey concrete business premises. The main building was a furniture store, and several customer cars were parked outside.

“Here we go. Ready?”

Alfredo gave a determined nod as he slipped the final few items into a rucksack, also provided by Hugo. They avoided the parking bays and drove around the far end. There was a lumber yard behind, protected by high security fencing. A scattering of lorries, low-loaders and other commercial vehicles made it easy to hide their own. They re-emerged on foot. A family was arguing on the steps of a food wholesalers, but took their dispute inside. One car was occupied. A young man with bleach-blond hair in a white T-shirt sat smoking. One arm protruded from the open window of his small, red saloon. Luis gestured discretely in his direction. The brothers closed in a pincer movement from front and rear.

Luis drew just enough of his pistol to demonstrate his intent. “We need you to drive us a short distance, then we will require your car.”

The boy sat transfixed at the sight of the gun.

“You are in no danger, as long as you co-operate. We'll leave your car where it can be quickly recovered.”

Alfredo had already slipped into the front passenger seat. Luis moved to sit behind the driver.

“Who are you with?”

“My girlfriend.”

“Don't worry - we will leave you just far enough away for it to take some time for you to report your car stolen. You will soon be back together. Now, give me your mobile phone and drive south.”

Within ten minutes they had left the main road. The car bounced down a narrow country lane and into a patch of jungle.

“Pull over,” Luis instructed. “We'll leave your wallet in the car, when we abandon it. Now you can get out.”

The man seemed reluctant to move. Instinctively he stared at the gun-induced bulge in Luis' jacket pocket. Finally, he slipped cautiously out of the vehicle, his eyes firmly fixed on the pair, expecting a bullet at any moment.

“That should buy us time,” Luis observed, as they reversed and sped away. The young man stood forlornly, watching them go. A trembling hand was pulling a cigarette from the packet Alfredo had passed back to him with an ironic smile.

Once again the brothers returned to the somnambulant rhythm of the road, but Alfredo grew increasingly pensive. “Do you know that I saw our mother?”

Luis turned to study his younger brother's features, searching for some sense of context.

“What do you mean?” he replied, uncertainly.

“I mean, Luis, that whilst I was in London I saw her as she used to be, in my mind's eye. She was standing outside the ranch. I saw her so clearly it felt like I could have reached out and touched her. I never knew what she looked like - I mean in real life - not just in photos. I hated London. I hate what has happened whilst I have been away, but having a memory of her is really important to me. I think I've grown up. I feel a lot calmer.”

Luis said nothing. Alfredo's words brought to mind his own cherished memories of their mother and then he could only think of Alex again. As he did so, he felt his resolve slipping away. With it went any thirst for revenge. It was a massive change of heart, but he knew now that he didn't want to fight for the future of Las Contadonas. That family was a mirage built on subjugation. All the anger, all the pain his family had inflicted on others, was it essentially just displacement, just men missing their wives and mothers? Luis wanted to disappear off the map, to build a new life, as his father had once done with his mother, Estella, all those years ago on the Caribbean coast. And now there was no one to call him back. There was nobody and nothing to fight for, other than the brother who now sat beside him. He did not need to return to the ranch to hold on to the memories it had cradled.

“Let's not go back.”

Now it was Alfredo's turn to be silent. He busied himself adjusting the air-conditioning system and radio. As expected, there was no mention on the news of what had happened at the golf club.

“O.K,” he pronounced, eventually.

They were approaching Tulum. Luis eased down as the car reached the first of several speed bumps. He checked the gas as he noticed a station ahead. There was plenty left in the tank and only an hour to go to the border. Entering the main street, he slowed to a crawl and flashed his lights to allow a tourist van to exit a forecourt. The thought of the carefree lives of those within sparked a brief pang of jealousy. There were no police or roadblocks and soon they were clear of the town again, edging ever closer to their goal.

“Luis.” Alfredo had swivelled around and was kneeling on his seat to peer through the rear windscreen.

“What?”

“I think it's them. There's a taxi, not far behind us. Each time it gets to a car, it slows down. They're looking for us. They've figured out what we've done.”

“O.K. Turn around and don't look back again. I'll try to put some distance between us, without them noticing.” Luis waited until they had passed a large articulated lorry, ducked in front of it, and hit the gas. Keeping a close eye on the rear view mirror, he counted the vehicles passing the same lorry: one, two, three, four; still no taxi. They were almost out of sight then, there it was, a non-descript white saloon, but with an unmistakeable rooftop sign. It was going much too fast to be on legitimate business.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, there's another roadblock. What are we going to do, Luis?” Alfredo had abandoned any pretence of self-control. In answer, he was thrown suddenly sideways, his temple hitting the glass.

Luis had turned hard left across the opposing carriageway into a narrow, tree-lined lane. It ran down towards a barrier and a thatch-roofed hut. The hut was unmanned and the barrier open. Passing cautiously through, Alfredo still rubbing his head, they pulled up by a noticeboard displaying a map of the site.

“Ruins,” Luis observed. “That probably means there's no way through.”

The road ahead became indeterminate, ending in a short expanse of overlapping dirt tracks and patches of grass, which served as a parking area. A small building covered in graffiti had obviously once been a toilet block. Beside it sat a large open truck, attached to a boat rack. There was still nobody about. Beyond the clearing, the jungle muscled in behind another sign, a gate, and a pathway disappearing into the dappled light.

“What now, Luis?”

“See if that gate will open. If we can hide up somewhere, we can find out if we're being followed. Hurry!”

In response to Alfredo's beckoning, Luis plunged the vehicle into the dark green passageway. He kept going, leaving Alfredo to close up and jog on behind. Alfredo caught up, wiping sweat from his brow. Luis stepped from the car into a barrage of animal noise.