The Jaguar (9 page)

“But maybe that's why they want the poppy fields,” observed Paulo. “Then they'd have the local supply and Barrio Fuerte would be the obvious distributors.”

“Perhaps,” sighed Luis. For a moment he sat quietly, unsure how to proceed. He was a good manager of people and a hard worker, but he'd never had to be a strategist before.

Don Paulo again filled the gap. He looked like a care-warn pensioner, but the habits of a lifetime were not so easily put aside. “Now we need to do several things and we need to do them quickly. First, we must set up a meeting with Marcelo. Next, Eusabio should fly a team out to the mountains, to find out if there have been any signs of Xterra up there. Gennaro, I want you to do what you do best. Lean on as many people as possible in Rochas Blancas. We need confirmation that it was Xterra. Take some old hands: no punks; no amateurs. Go heavily armed and spill a little blood, but make sure you eliminate only definite trouble-makers. We don't want the locals turning against us too. Don't take out the prison governor or the mayor. We may need them later on. If we hit anyone too senior, we may end up dealing with the state or national government, as well as Xterra. Luis, we need to talk further. It must be the two of us who meet with Marcelo. Then he will know that we are sincere.”

Luis nodded and the others stood up to leave. “I'm going to ask Alfredo to come home,” he announced, with as much conviction as he could muster. It was important to demonstrate his determination whilst Eusabio and Gennaro were still present. Both dutifully sat down again. “That is the best way to show the world that we're not afraid of Xterra.”

Paulo nodded his silent approval and smiled at Luis. Gennaro and Eusabio pressed their heavy frames from their chairs and took turns to kiss Luis' and then Don Paulo's hand. As the door closed Paulo sighed deeply and Luis could see that there were tears in his eyes. “Now we can talk of Felipe,” he sobbed. For the first time in many years Luis put his arm around the old man. He met no resistance.

Some while later the conversation turned to practical matters. “Do we need to worry about the strike?” Paulo enquired of Luis.

“No, it was just the usual sort of mess: poor management, rather than anything to do with another syndicate. I stopped by the family of the injured girl and gave them some money. That'll help to smooth things over. We will put a new company director in place. I'll get some people to lean on anyone not back at work by Monday.”

“Nice touch, Luis, to visit the family. You've always been in tune with working people. We would not have factories now if it were not for you? I was never that keen. We only started so we had more control over the workforce. Then we just wanted to clean our cash. It was you who showed me there were legal ways for the family to make a profit.”

“Thanks, Papa. I am proud of our factories.”

“You know, Luis,” Paulo sighed, “you always were the best of us. You even have a wife who still loves you and one day soon you will have a family. Your uncle Felipe said you would be successful, even before you were old enough to work. You've proved him right. One day I'd like this family to be clean - to pay our taxes and stick to the law. To go to church on Sundays, like your mother used to insist we do. Do you remember that, Luis? That could be your legacy. That is my dream.”

Luis said nothing. Getting up from the end of the bed, he walked towards the window.

“Now that I'm old,” Paulo continued, speaking to Luis' back, “I wish there were no more drugs and no more violence. I wish I was leaving you something to make you proud of me.”

Luis stood still, fingering his moustache. As he did so he could sense the life drifting out of the old man behind him. He didn't know at that moment how he felt about Paulo, his father, Felipe, his uncle, or Alfredo, his brother. But he knew how he felt about the factory girl whose mother he had met. He felt angry for her and for all those like her. The anger now helped him find more strength.

“I'm not going to be the one who meets with Marcelo” he said, to his own image, reflected in the glass. “We'll offer him a large amount of money in compensation for his brother's death. Then we'll wait for Alfredo to return. It should be Alfredo who meets with Marcelo. That's the only way we can regain the trust of Barrio Fuerte. It is also a clear statement to Xterra and to everyone else that we're not afraid.” He turned around and Paulo smiled, although almost consumed by tiredness.

“I'll call Marcelo and Alfredo now, but once I've arranged this I'm going to join Gennaro in Rochas Blancas. I need to show I can handle your side of the business now, Papa.”

Don Paulo waved a weak, but appreciative hand. His eyes were almost closed. Luis stooped to take off the old man's shoes and help him into bed. As his father's eyes shut, Luis stroked his long grey strands of hair. Luis contemplated his sallow features and worried at the fitful nature of his breathing. For so many years he'd been fearful of this small but tough and wiry man. Now he felt sorry for him. He also felt something else, and wondered if it was love.

Act III: New Arrivals

Chapter Twelve

Riviera Maya

Laura was encountering her first problem. Her group was gathered around her again, this time in the arrivals terminal at Cancun airport. The plan was to wait an hour until the Manchester flight brought with it her remaining clients, but Sharon and John Tanner were refusing to stay. Sharon, although young and seemingly robust, had a migraine. She sat, head in hands, next to a large pile of luggage, complaining she was about to be sick. John explained this would only get worse without quiet and rest.

Laura tried to ring Marcus, but his cell phone went unanswered. The hotel minibus, together with a driver and guide, were waiting outside, but there was only the one. She made her decision: the five could go on ahead and she would wait alone for the others. She tracked down the guide and asked him to call ahead and explain the situation. Once they had gone, she could arrange for another vehicle.

She stood in the clean heat of a fine early afternoon following morning rain and helped her clients to board. When she explained the hotel transfer would take nearly two and a half hours there were groans, but all seemed happy enough once ensconced under air conditioning, each clutching a bottle of mineral water which the driver had dutifully provided. Laura waved them away with as broad and as confident a smile as she could muster and retreated to the terminal. She decided to organise a taxi, then remembered there was a Carlton Travel desk on the Departures floor. She made a quick diversion to the Ladies to freshen up. A neat young travel representative smiled back at her from the mirror. She adjusted her make-up and cleaned her teeth, glad of the time to collect her thoughts.

Marcus rang. “Sorry to miss you: I was in the pool.”

“Lucky you!” Laura was surprised by her own flippancy.

“It's good to speak with you again,” Marcus continued, unperturbed. “I hope the past week hasn't been too stressful. How's everything going?”

Laura explained the situation. Marcus confirmed it would be better to ask another hotel bus to make an extra stop, rather than rely on a taxi: his own recent taxi experience having reinforced this view.

“I'll be there to meet and greet when the first group arrive. When you get here, I would recommend a quick check-in and going straight to dinner. Your bags will be in your room by the time you finish eating.”

“Where will I be sleeping?”

“Don't worry - you should have the same accommodation as the guests most of the way through the next two weeks. I'm sure you won't mind that including a little camping?”

“Can't wait - Is there anything else I need to be thinking about?”

“No, just keep the Manchester guests happy. I understand they're a family group with two children, so we'll have quite a mixed party. What do you think of the others?

Laura reflected for a moment. “Hard to tell really - they seem nice enough, although I don't think any of them know quite what to expect. There's a guy called David who appears willing, but not very capable. He speaks a little Spanish, which may be useful. There's a brother and sister who seem good fun and a young couple that I haven't quite got the measure of yet: well-travelled, with lots of posh gear, but a little distant. The wife's the one who is ill. She didn't look the migraine sort and, between you and me, I wonder whether they haven't had a row. Both were quite tense.”

“All part of the fun, Laura: you never quite how people will react in unfamiliar circumstances. That's when we earn our money.”

“Talking about money, I'm assuming I'm going to get paid? I lost quite a lot, leaving my last job without working my notice.” Laura sounded rather more direct than she had intended: the traumas of the past week making it difficult to be easy going.

Marcus didn't notice. “No worries on that score. Culjinder has everything in hand and we'll be reimbursing you for any losses incurred and for any other expenditure. Just give her a call, as soon as you have settled in. Whilst here, everything you spend is on expenses, so relax and enjoy the experience. If all goes to plan, you may be leading the next trip yourself.”

“Thank you, Marcus,” Laura almost gushed in relief, “I'll be with you soon.”

Laura beamed at nobody in particular as she made her way to the CTG help desk. Here she was, basically on a free luxury holiday in the Caribbean. She appeared to have only the lightest of responsibilities and she was going to get paid well too. “At last,” she whispered furtively to herself, “life is getting interesting.”

A tall, casually dressed, but nevertheless important looking European was holding out his hand in the main lobby of the Kalumal Beach Hotel. David swapped his welcome cocktail from his right to his left, shifted carefully forward on the leather sofa in which he was happily buried, and shook it.

“Hello, you must be David.” Marcus waited politely for confirmation. “How was your journey?”

David mumbled something positive, but largely incomprehensible. Drink, heat and tiredness were proving to be an intoxicating mix.

“My name is Marcus and I will be your trip supervisor,” beamed Marcus. “You've already met my assistant, Laura. We'll both be with you for the next couple of weeks and our job is to make your holiday as enjoyable as possible.” He turned towards Felicity and Ethan, who filled the remaining space on the sofa. “All three of you have your own double room here for the next two nights and you'll have the same rooms for the last two days, after our adventure. We'll all be meeting later this evening for dinner. You'll get a call to let you know when and where. In the meantime, please help yourself to anything in the mini-bar, or to room service, if you'd like to eat sooner. Those plastic strips on your wrist mean that everything is included.”

Ethan yawned loudly and Felicity giggled. “Sorry,” said Ethan, “it's been a rather long day.”

“I understand completely. I only arrived here myself yesterday.”

“Do you mind if I ask a straight question?” Ethan did his best through a fog of tiredness and an increasingly dodgy stomach to look serious. “You seem to be offering a lot for the price we've paid. Are you sure there isn't a catch?”

David sat up and paid attention. Marcus clasped his hands together. He'd been anticipating this enquiry. “This is a new venture for us, and the only way to be sure it'll work to everyone's satisfaction is to try it out with real guests. With the greatest respect, you are our guinea pigs, but all that means for you is that we'll really value your feedback. Just let us know what you enjoy and what you think could be improved. Hopefully then, we'll be able to charge the next group a whole lot more money.” Marcus grinned, somewhat mischievously.

Everybody responded in kind and Marcus took the opportunity to skip across to the Tanners. They were sitting on the marble steps outside, waiting impatiently for the land-train that would shuttle them to their room.

David stood up. “Well, I'm off to take a shower and have a nap. I'm also curious to see what's in my fridge. It sounds a lot better than the biscuit tin back home.”

Felicity stretched and rubbed her eyes, badly smudging her mascara. “Sounds like a good plan. I guess we'll see you again at dinner.” She struggled to extract herself from the cushions, levering herself onto her feet using Ethan's shoulder.

As the land train wound its way past garden-fringed villas and apartments, David gladly drew in the cool air of evening. Against the luminous light of encroaching night he could make out the first and brightest of stars. Low-level lamps appeared, scattered amongst the flowerbeds. David noticed movement beyond their corona.

“Coati,” the driver pointed ahead and to one side. A large troop of monkey-sized mammals were rooting around beneath a narrow strip of woodland, chequerboard tails pointing skyward. These racoon-like animals only heightened David's sleep-deprived sense that he had stepped into someone else's life: that of a more confident and positive individual. High on the adrenaline of new experience and forgetting his tiredness, he wanted to get out and explore as much of the site as night-time would allow. He was going to get fit. He was going to eat more healthily and he was going to make use of his smattering of Spanish.

An opportunity arose to apply the last of these resolutions. The other guests had been dropped off at indistinguishable locations along the winding route and David was now alone with his chauffeur. He tapped the man on the shoulder.

“Can you take me on the beach?” he enunciated carefully, in Spanish.

The man stopped his electric vehicle and stared quizzically back at David. He broke into a broad, toothy and not entirely hygienic grin.

“Of course,” he responded, giving a theatrical gesture of politeness. David was swept back suddenly into his seat. To his considerable surprise, the driver began to sing.

Chapter Thirteen

By Moonlight

An armadillo snuffled noisily around the fringes of a well-trimmed lawn, pawing at the leaves scattered by a thicket of tropical vegetation beyond. It snapped at a moth disturbed by its rooting and played with a beetle that scurried beneath its long front claws. Tiring of the game, the armadillo cracked the moonshine shell of the insect in its jaws, throwing back its narrow head to chew and swallow its prize. Then it froze, its nose searching for a breeze, before settling and padding further along the verge. Suddenly the leaves of a bush shimmered and hissed. A waking cat arched its back and bared its teeth. The armadillo sprang backwards, let out a child's cry and jogged for the shadows.

Laura pushed herself upwards into the steam, riverlets of hot water flowing across her shoulders and down the delicate cleave of her breasts. She peered through the smoking swirl as it was sucked upward into the sky, but could see little beyond the pattern of decking and the shadow-licked wall of palms beyond. The strange humanity of the animal's call momentarily brought home to Laura the alien nature of this new world. She wondered what the hour might be. The moon was full and high, sitting sharp and proud amongst a flurry of stars. The sudden noise below the patio and the cold night air had brought Laura back from her heat-induced reverie in the hot-tub. She slipped gratefully back into the water's embrace and pondered whether she should now make the short dash back to her hotel room.

Laura had reached her room elated, but also suddenly exhausted, and had barely troubled the bathroom before crawling under the sheets of her bed and hugging at a pillow. Sleep did not come. She had too much on her mind, the bed was too firm and the air-conditioning hummed at a most penetrating pitch. Eventually she had risen to turn it off, but then the room had grown hot and airless. Rising from the sweat of half-slumber for a second time, she had felt her way to a wardrobe, flung on a robe and gone to see what lay beyond her patio doors. There, in a small, pot-lined courtyard shared with four other rooms, she had found the hot-tub. There were no lights from the other rooms and the far end of the courtyard opened only onto greenery. Laura had tiptoed across the wooden flooring to the welcoming pool. It sprung automatically into bubbling life as she approached, like some volcanic relic of the origins of life erupting from the coloured earth.

The remainder of Laura's day had gone well, but now a large volume of information vied to be processed through her short-term memory. Her drive from the airport with the remaining family had been unexpectedly high-spirited and entertaining. Darryl, the father, had talked incessantly about previous family holidays to Spain, admitting they had never been out of Europe before. The children, Hannah, twelve, and Lloyd, thirteen, fought over a sombrero then nearly caused the bus to crash by spinning it like a frisbee towards the driver. They had squealed with excitement at the sight of each passing waterpark or dolphinarium, and had been full of questions about activities they might do. Jackie, the mother, held a tiny video camera to the fading light. The quietest of the four, she had smiled apologetically as Laura's interrogation had continued.

The hotel had looked vast and spectacular to Laura under artificial light. Oversized facsimiles of Mayan totems and vast tapestries of traditional scenes dressed the circular expanse of the main reception area. Laura had busied herself with the formalities of arrival then sat alongside Dana with a map showing the location of each guest and all the facilities she would need to navigate. Dana's presence had been instantly reassuring. Laura imagined her to be some ten years older than herself. She was calm and elegant, with an easy, confident and authoritative manner. Reflecting back, from the comfort of her pool, Laura imagined herself in Dana's position in a few years' time. It was an appealing image, bolstering Laura's perception that she had made the right decision.

Dinner had proved equally positive. Although most were too tired to fully appreciate the fine dining, they were also beyond anything other than acquiescence to every arrangement put to them by Marcus. Tomorrow would be a rest day. Monday would see them on a day visit to a nearby beachside Mayan temple. Tuesday and Wednesday would bring a gentle introduction to the jungle and the chance to climb a particularly large ancient edifice. After that they would transfer to a more exclusive boutique hotel further down the coast, before heading into heavily protected wilderness for their main adventure. Conversation around the table had been limited to the usual pleasantries. There was no sign of tension and the Tanners had been smiling and communicative.

The only glitch had proved to be the making of the meal. David had gone to explore the grounds before claiming his room, and had proceeded to get lost, having walked too far along the beach. A long additional ramble and several erroneous restaurants later he had finally burst upon their party, chaperoned by the maître d', who was protesting at the inappropriate nature of David's crumbled hoodie and sand-covered trainers. Marcus, alerted by Laura, had risen to placate the waiter and to put an arm around a flustered David, who recovered his equanimity quickly at the sight of the group. Once halfway through the first glass of wine, his embarrassment had been superseded by an animated monologue.