Treasure of the Mayan King (2012) (21 page)

“I am very sorry.”

Luisa waved it away. “Don’t be. It was a marriage of convenience: he desired me, and I, his money. We both got what we wanted.”

“Ah, I see. Please, continue.”

“My part of the inheritance, including life insurance, amounted to - ” she paused, pulled a leather case from her large purse. From within the case she extracted a bank statement that she placed on the table, pointing to a figure on it, “three million dollars.”

Barrios’ eyes widened. “Well, that is a very generous inheritance, indeed!”

“But there is more,” she said. “You see, after he died, I discovered that he had a hidden bank account. The scoundrel was holding out on me! My lawyer helped me retrieve the money and close the account. The employees filed a lawsuit claiming that their retirement funds had been stolen. Apparently, he had indeed been embezzling from his own company. The truth is, I don’t care. I had to put up with that idiotic man and his foul temper for ten years. As far as I’m concerned, that money is mine.”

“And how much was there, Luisa?” he asked, trying to sound disinterested.

Luisa pulled two more bank statements out of the leather case and presented them. “I put the money in two separate accounts,” she said as she directed Barrios’ eyes to a line on the statements. “Add them up and you have…”

“Six million dollars!” he blurted almost snorting the coffee in his nostrils.

Luisa glanced around nervously and lowered her voice. “Add that to my existing account and the total comes to nine million.”

Barrios took a deep breath and another sip from his coffee. “And how exactly do I fit into this picture, Luisa? Why are you telling me this?”

“The employees in my late husband’s company have already started a class-action suit against me. My lawyer advised me that in three days a court order will be issued to freeze my bank accounts. But I am not going to hang around that long, I plan to leave the United States for good. I have three days to take my money and sink it into Mexican real estate. Hah! They will never find the money. I trust that you can help me.”

Mr. Barrios cleared his throat. “Luisa, Luisa, of course I can help you. It will be a pleasure.”

“I’m not offering you pleasure, Antonio.” She paused, smiling. “I’m offering you one million dollars if you can invest five million in three days.”

Barrios’ eyes twitched. Then he smiled. “I don’t think that should be a problem.”

“Ah! But there is a problem Antonio.”

His face clouded. “What is it?”

Luisa lowered her voice again. “I think I’m being followed. Six million dollars is a lot of money and there are two hundred angry employees after it. I know I can’t go back to the States. But I’d prefer that no one knew where I was, even here in Mexico, so I don’t want anymore public meetings. Although, of course, I trust you implicitly, you’ll forgive me if I don’t invite you to my hotel room. What do you suggest, Antonio?”

He thought for a few moments, his black eyes darting around. “My home would be perfectly safe for you. No one knows I live there and the guards at the gate are extremely discreet.”

He wrote his address and gave it to Luisa. “My address. Trust me. I am as interested in confidentiality as you are.”

She slipped the address into her leather case and stood. “Your guards can watch for a silver Jaguar - and you can watch for me,” she said. She walked away, leaving him smiling smugly.

“What a lovely meal ticket. Tonight we will have dinner, a little bit of wine, and she will melt into my arms. Then I invest her five million dollars in bogus real estate and take her for all she has!”

He walked from the restaurant, chuckling to himself. With the Mayan business, and now this, he could barely believe his ingenuity. Whistling softly, he began arranging his plans.

“Marcelo? How is dinner coming along?” Mr. Barrios asked as he entered the dining room, adjusting his collar.

His butler was busy setting the dinner table in Mr. Barrio’s lavish home. A wrought-iron chandelier cast soft shadows over the thick wooden table and beautifully carved chairs.

“Oh, Senor, the meal will be perfect!”

“Ah, excellent. Here Marcelo,” Barrios said, taking out his wallet and then handing the butler a wad of bills. “Take Graciela out to dinner. Take the evening off,” he said patting Marcelo on the shoulder.

“Oh gracias, Senor. Goodnight!” Marcelo answered with a knowing smile, and then he was gone.

Moments later the intercom buzzed, and the voice of the security guard crackled through the speaker:

“Mr. Barrios, the silver Jaguar has entered the grounds.”

“Excellent,” replied Barrios. He walked over to a mirror and double-checked his reflection. Ah Antonio, you handsome devil.

The doorbell rang. “Coming my dear!” Antonio said as he walked over to the door, humming a romantic melody. Opening the door, he stopped cold. “What the - ? Who are you?” he demanded.

“Good evening, Mr. Barrios,” the man at the door said with a smile as he flashed his badge. “I am Gustavo De Leon, private investigator.”

“What?” Antonio raged. “Who let you in?”

“Why, your guard did of course. I came in the silver Jaguar.”

“But…but…!”

“Luisa Morales will not be joining you for dinner, I’m afraid, since her real name is Miranda De Leon; she is my wife.”

Antonio was momentarily stunned, then he regained his posture. “Ah, sheesh! I was fooled by an old trick.”

“Yes - you were.”

“Then, I have nothing to say to you!” Antonio snarled.

“Ah, but I’m sure you’d rather discuss a certain Mayan treasure map with me than with the police.”

Barrios took a step backward, stunned. His brain was working rapidly, examining his options. The very idea of having the police snooping around was enough to make him sick. “Very well, come in. But when I tell you my story, you will see that I have nothing to hide, absolutely nothing!”

Chapter Five

Gustavo sat down on a comfortable sofa, his smile fixed on his face. It had taken him longer than he had anticipated, but he had managed to locate his prime suspect. Gustavo was confident that soon the whole case would be resolved and that Mr. Barrios would produce the map.

Barrios sat down on a large chair across from Gustavo. De Leon could tell that he was suffering from the idea that he had just lost a wonderful financial opportunity.

Barrios shook his head. “I should have taken the time to do a background check on her, but she seemed in such a hurry, and those dollar bills were dancing around in my head. Well done, Mr. De Leon. Well done.”

“Let’s hear your story, shall we?” Gustavo put his recorder on the table and adjusted his notebook.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I? But first, tell me something. How did you find out about me?”

“My client, Octavio Mendoza, hired me to find the thief of the treasure map.”

Barrios sneered. “That stupid wimp, of course he went crying to you. I am sure he claims I was the thief, eh? I tell you, that whiner didn’t deserve that map in the first place! Minutes after we signed the deal, and bang, he finds this incredible treasure map! It should have been mine! I admit it’s my fault for not searching the house thoroughly before selling it, but still…’

He paused, taking a calming breath. “Anyway, as you probably already know, I am an auctioneer and I specialize in distress sales. Ninety percent of the time my clients are in a very big hurry to sell their properties due to many misfortunes. You know how life is full of surprises, don’t you? One moment you’re in the lap of luxury, and the next you’re scrambling for your meals. I have seen my share of troubles as a result of bad deals with customers.” Barrios shifted in his chair.

“Take Mrs. Sova for example. I received a call from her a few months ago. She said she needed to sell her house as soon as possible since her husband was presumed dead. The next day I was at her hacienda in Yucatan. Now, in all my years of buying and selling property, I have met all kinds of people and personalities and I must say that I have rarely seen a person such as Mrs. Sova.”

“What do you mean?” Gustavo asked.

“She was such as spiteful person, you know? She really hated her husband. She said all she wanted to do was to sell the estate and hightail it to France. As we toured the house, all I got out of her was a hate speech about Dr. Sova and an account of his terrible antics. When we got to the hallway where the study was, she emphatically stated that she did not want to go in there because it reminded her of him. By then I had had enough of her and figured I could check it out later.

“I endured an hour or so of this torture until we came to an agreement on the price. Once the papers were signed, she sighed with great relief, as did I, I can tell you. She then looked at me and said:

“I curse the day I married that man! All I want are my clothes and some personal documents. As far as I am concerned the rest of this house can burn to the ground”

“A week later, I received a call from Mr. Mendoza. He was looking for a home to buy for himself.”

“Hmmm,” Gustavo said. “Wait a minute, back up a bit. Did Mrs. Sova mention anything about the map in the study?”

“No, not at all. As I said before, she did not even want to go in the study.”

“Very well,” Gustavo said, satisfied. “Continue with your story.”

“Octavio has obviously told you about how we found the map. We were unable to translate the document, so we had to find somebody that could, but who? I didn’t want the entire scientific community involved.

“I finally remembered Raul Martinez, an archaeological appraiser I had met through a client. Martinez confided in me that many of his appraisals were for sales requiring a certain amount of discretion, if you know what I mean. I called him and soon the three of us were deeply involved in the translation, working on it every day. Octavio’s greed and distrust were obvious from the start. He wouldn’t let the scroll out of his sight even when he went to the bathroom! Whenever he would leave the room, he would lock it up. Can you imagine that?”

“I think I can,” Gustavo answered, trying not to smile.

Oblivious to the sarcasm, Barrios continued. “Raul was constantly trying to convince Octavio to let him copy some portions of the scroll. It seemed the more progress he made on the translation, the more frustrated he became with Octavio’s distrust. He told us that he was beginning to understand some of the writing and its meaning, but that there was still much to learn from the scroll. We asked him what he could understand, and he said something about ‘winged serpents,’ strange shadows and the ‘sun god being eaten up.’”

“What does that mean?” Gustavo interrupted.

Barrios stared off into space and stroked his chin. “I, I don’t remember the details. It seemed like so much nonsense to me and I said so. He said that the riddle was written in metaphors, and once we found out what they meant we would find the treasure of the Mayan king.

“As the days passed I was beginning to have second thoughts about continuing with the project. I was losing my trust in Raul. He did not seem as capable or educated as he had presented himself to be. There was a good deal of the charlatan in him. Most of the answers he gave came from Dr. Sova’s computer files.”

Antonio paused to collect his thoughts. “Of course, if he did actually figure out the riddle that meant a trek into the jungle. I hate the jungle, Mr. De Leon. Then, we’d have to find a hiding place for the treasure until we found the right clientele. It would take considerable time to find somebody willing to purchase our goods. I’m a businessman, not an adventurer. There was just too much work and risk. I decided that it would simply be best if I stole the map and sold it myself. However, one day when I was driving Raul to the hacienda, he suggested exactly the same thing!

“I panicked. He was going to ruin my plan! I told him that it sounded like a great idea, but we needed a little more time and patience. I knew, however, that it was time to act. That weekend I closed my office and moved here. The following week I returned to work at the hacienda. During a lunch break, Raul excused himself to the bathroom and Octavio walked outside onto the patio. While he was out there, I overheard him mention to a caretaker that he was going to be gone for the weekend.” Barrios talked with demonstrative gestures.

“Saturday afternoon I drove up to the hacienda. I told Lucio that I was retrieving some documents for Octavio, showing him and Jose the spare keys I had made. They let me pass and other than the demented old man, there was no one else around. But when I got to the office - ”

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

“Yes?” prompted Gustavo.

“The treasure map was gone, Mr. De Leon, the secret drawer was open! Raul had beaten me to the punch, that little….”

“Of course he had.” Gustavo sarcastically intoned.

Antonio sprang to his feet, his face flushed red with anger. “I am not lying! I have told you nothing but God’s own truth, I swear it!”

Gustavo stood as well. “Come now, Mr. Barrios. You admit to having a key to the house, and you admit to being in the place when it disappeared. Who else could have stolen the map?”

“Raul could have broken in!” Antonio shouted.

“Mr. Mendoza said that there was no evidence of forced entry. I don’t want to play games, Barrios.”

“I am not playing games!”

Gustavo sneered. “You will be hearing from me again. Don’t try anything foolish like running away.”

De Leon shut the door leaving Barrios, fists clenched, glaring after him.

Gustavo tried to focus on the hazy figure standing at the foot of his bed.

“Wake up sleepy head,” the familiar voice said. “I brought you breakfast in bed.”

“Wha…?” Gustavo said groggily as he propped himself up in bed. He was still half-asleep, but the smell of huevos rancheros was making its way past his wooziness. “Thank you, Miranda,” he finally managed to say. “That was very nice of you. What do you want?”

Ignoring the question, Miranda put the breakfast tray in front of him. It was perfectly prepared, as always: two eggs sunny side up, stacked on a bed of lightly fried corn tortillas smothered with hot sauce and melted cheese. A healthy portion of refried beans on the side completed the meal.