Cliff Diver (Detective Emilia Cruz Book 1) (17 page)

Chapter 14

Lomas Bottling
took up most of one of the office buildings near the International Center.
Security was tight inside and out. Guns were left in the security office and
they had to walk through a metal detector as well. Emilia tried not to look
impressed. Fuentes’s head was on a swivel as he took in the imposing lobby, the
escalator to a café, the elevators that opened and closed with a soft whoosh.
Emilia wondered again about his background as well as that of the other
detectives, what motivated them and what they thought about the discrepancy
between Lt. Inocente’s police career and his opulent lifestyle. Rico seemed
immune to the luxurious office building and jabbed at the elevator button with
impatience.

They were ushered
into Bernal Morelos de Gama’s office and seated at a round table ringed with
blue leather swivel chairs. He was a smooth-faced man in his mid-forties,
wearing a perfectly tailored suit and a distinctively printed Pineda Covalin
silk tie.

“I’m so glad to
finally meet the detectives who returned our son. Like a miracle.” Morelos de
Gama looked like he wanted to hug them all. His eyes shone behind silver
wire-framed glasses.

He spoke proudly
about the boy who was recovering from his ordeal and called up some photos on a
tablet computer to show them. Bernardo and his mother were in Texas where a
famous hospital was fitting him with artificial thumbs. Bernardo was an only
child. Emilia tamped down a surge of anger at a father who’d risk his child’s
life by paying a ransom with counterfeit money. Which she couldn’t prove.

Morelos de Gama’s
secretary brought glasses of sparkling water and withdrew.

Emilia felt
incongruous in her usual jeans and sandals and denim jacket, her beat-up
shoulder bag on the Persian carpet by her feet. “Thank you. We’re actually here
to ask you some questions about a business deal you made three years ago with
Seguros Guerrero. Fausto and Bruno Inocente.”

Morelos de Gama
shook his head. “Is this about Fausto’s death? We were so distressed to hear of
it. Something connected to an investigation of his, no doubt?” He looked at
each of them, his face solemn, as if looking for answers.”

Rico cleared his
throat. “We’re looking at every angle.”

“Well, of course,”
Morelos de Gama said. He made an expansive gesture. “However I can help.”

“You know them
from the sale of their company Agua Pacifico to Lomas Bottling,’ Rico
continued. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“The purchase
price for the company wasn’t very high,” Emilia ventured.

“That’s right.”
Morelos de Gama leaned back, perfectly at home in his luxurious office. “The
official purchase price wasn’t high,” he said. “But if I recall correctly the
purchase entailed a total recap of the Agua Pacifico distillation plants.
Seguros Guerrero wasn’t going to invest any capital in a beverage company, it
wasn’t something they had experience with. So we were able to take it for a
good price, knowing we’d have to do all the recap.”

His explanation
made sense. “When was the last time you spoke to Fausto Inocente?” Emilia
asked.

“After Bernardo
was found.” Morelos de Gama looked down and drew a shaky breath. “I went to his
home. Embraced him. He was a father, too.”

Emilia and Rico exchanged
looks and she could tell he was as confused as she was. “You were friends?” she
asked.

“Of course we had
Pinkerton handle the negotiations but we needed more help.” Morelos de Gama
smiled but it was clear the reference to the kidnapping had upset him. “I knew
that Fausto could be trusted. His brother is Bruno Inocente.”

“How was Bruno
involved?” Rico asked. He was pumped; Emilia watched his knee jog up and down
as if he could hardly sit still.

Fuentes at least was
composed. He sat quietly, sipping his water from time to time as the
conversation went on around him.

Morelos de Gama
took off his glasses and polished them with a little cloth from his pocket. “I
only mean that Bruno Inocente is respected as the most honest businessman in
Acapulco. He and Sergio Rivas have made Seguros Guererro into the company
everybody tries to emulate. I knew I could trust Bruno’s brother.”

“And Fausto was
helpful?”

Morelos put his
glasses back on and smiled sadly. “Of course you two know that better than I
do.”

 “But we’ve
never heard your side of it, señor,” Emilia said. She resisted the urge to dig
her nails into Rico’s knee. The last thing she wanted was to make Morelos de
Gama suspicious.

“He was the
go-between the Pinkerton agents and the kidnappers,” Morelos de Gama said
gratefully.

For a moment
Emilia thought she’d heard wrong. How could Lt. Inocente have been the
go-between the Pinkerton agents and the kidnappers? There had been nothing in
the files to suggest that
el teniente
had been close to Morelos de Gama
or had helped him in any way.

“Actually,” Emilia
said slowly, her brain trying to fit this new bit of information into place and
failing. “He was very discreet in talking about his role.”

“All I know is
that he orchestrated the rescue.” Morelos de Gama smiled. “Which you so
brilliantly executed.”

Rico’s knee was
pumping like a piston. In another minute he was going to leap up and call
Morelos de Gama a liar. The owner of Lomas Bottling was either the world’s best
actor or everything she and Rico believed about the case was wrong.

“It took a long
time to get the money together, as I recall,” Emilia groped. “You must have
been frantic.”

Morelos de Gama
nodded. “My wife still has not recovered from the stress of those few days.”

It wasn’t what
Emilia had hoped he’d say and she couldn’t think of how to move the
conversation back to Lt. Inocente. Rico jumped in, however. “Could we talk to
your Pinkerton agent?”

“Of course.”
Morelos de Gama went to his desk and came back with a business card which he
handed to Rico. “You think Fausto’s death is somehow connected to the
kidnapping?”

“No one has ever
found the kidnappers,” Rico reminded him. “Who do you believe was responsible?”

Morelos de Gama
gave an involuntary shiver. “
Por Dios
. We never had any idea. Just
dangerous people who saw my son as a target of opportunity when we were at our
beach house in Ixtapa.” He frowned. “You’re not going to reinvestigate, are
you?”

“We understand how
you wouldn’t want that,” Emilia said. Few families ever wanted a kidnapping
reopened for fear that the kidnappers would retaliate against the family.
Sometimes the same victim would be snatched again or someone else from the same
family, as a way of teaching a lesson.

“Again, my
condolences on the passing of your lieutenant,” Morelos de Gama said with all
sincerity.

“One last thing
before we go,” Emilia said hastily as Fuentes stood up then dropped back into
his seat as she started speaking. “Can you tell us anything else about your
acquisition of Agua Pacifico?”

Morelos de Gama
moved his glass of water, centering it in the coaster on the polished cocktail
table. “It was an ordinary purchase. Lomas Bottling is a beverage company and a
water brand would round out our holdings. I knew Seguros Guererro was honest,
that the deal would be a relatively simple one.”

“The company must
be doing well, now,” Rico jumped in. “Those trucks are all over.”

Morelos de Gama
smiled. “We brought in a new management team. They’ve done an excellent job.
One of our best brands now. I’d be glad to set up a tour of the plant for you.”

“I’d like that,”
Emilia said.

“Is that really
necessary?” Fuentes asked. “There doesn’t seem to be much of a connection,
after all, and Señor Morelos is a busy man.”

“My plant
supervisor will be happy to show you around.” Morelos de Gama tapped something
on the tablet in front of him. “Shall we say Monday?”

Emilia looked at
Rico. He shrugged. Fuentes fiddled with his watch. Emilia accepted the
invitation.

“What other brands
are owned by Lomas Bottling?” Rico asked. Emilia knew he was reaching,
searching for something that might be there but didn’t know what it was.

Morelos de Gama
reeled off the names of half a dozen popular beverages. “We’re bringing out a
new sports drink, too.”

“Just in time for
the Olympics,” Emilia couldn’t help saying.

☼

“Can I talk to
you?”

Fuentes stopped
Emilia and pulled her to the side as they walked into the police station.

“Sure.” Emilia
shifted her shoulder bag to the other side.

Fuentes’s brow creased
with frown lines. He was the best looking detective in the squadroom, with fine
features that made him look younger than he was. He was dressed as usual in
crisply pressed jeans, a designer shirt and a lightweight navy blazer.

“I don’t want to
tell you how to run this investigation,” he said. “But the water company is
probably a waste of time when we’ve got another problem.”

Emilia wanted to
laugh. Another problem. As if surly detectives, Obregon, the mayor, Maria
Teresa Diaz de Inocente and the impossible bureaucracy of this city weren’t
enough? She swallowed hard. “What sort of problem?”

Fuentes moved
around the side of the building, out of range of the gate guard. He dug into
his back pocket, his jacket swinging to reveal a big automatic in a hip holster,
and produced a very familiar green bill of a very high denomination decorated
with a small head of a
presidente
de los Estados Unidos
.  

Emilia felt her
heart skip a beat. “Sorry, Fuentes,” she said, trying to sound neutral. “No
bribes today.”

“It’s fake,”
Fuentes said.

Emilia caught
herself before she said
I know
.

“Silvio has a
shitload,” Fuentes said.

“
Silvio
?”

“He doesn’t know I
have it.”

“How did that
happen?” Emilia asked. She fingered the bill. It was exactly like the others.

Fuentes hunched
his shoulders. “We were down near the bus station, talking to one of his
snitches. Silvio showed the guy the money and gave him some. Asked if he’d keep
an eye out for any more bills like it and to call him if he did. The snitch was
drunker than sin and I managed to lift some off him.”

“When did this all
happen?” Emilia asked.

“Monday,” Fuentes
said.

“Did you tell Lt.
Inocente about Silvio?”

Fuentes nodded.
“Tuesday. The morning of the day he was killed.”

“What did he say?”

“That he’d look
into it,” Fuentes said. “And then he turns up dead.”

“What are you
saying?” Emilia realized she was hugging herself, both arms wrapped around her
middle, every muscle taut.

“I’m scared of
Silvio,” Fuentes said simply. He rubbed a hand along his jawline as he scanned the
lot for anybody else. Emilia saw beads of sweat on his upper lip.

“You’re sure he
doesn’t know you took the money?” Emilia asked. Despite the bright sunshine,
she felt cold. “Any chance the snitch told him?”

“No.” Fuentes gave
her a half-smile. “Thanks for teaming me up with Rico. He’s a decent guy.” He
paused. “No matter what the others say, I think you were a good choice to head
up the investigation.”

That was the first
nice thing any of the detectives besides Rico had ever said to her and Emilia
felt a rush of gratitude. She didn’t know much about Fuentes, but he was so
earnest. Like an honest kid. She gave him an encouraging smile. “You did the
right thing, telling Lt. Inocente and now me,” she said. “Let’s just keep this
quiet for a bit. Figure out what it means before we take it any further.”

Fuentes smiled and
looked happy for the praise. “So you probably don’t need to worry about Lomas
Bottling,” he said.

☼

Emilia’s thoughts
swirled as she made her way to the detectives bathroom. Inocente and Silvio had
been partners. They’d kidnapped that child, the father had paid in counterfeit,
and they’d given the child back before realizing the money was worthless.

The sale of Agua
Pacifico had either left Inocente angry because he didn’t get enough out of the
sale or he simply knew that Morelos de Gama and his Lomas Bottling company were
good sources of cash. It took him three years to find a partner and set up the
kidnapping.

Emilia shoved open
the door and was relieved to find that no one was in the bathroom. She dumped
her bag on the ledge above the sink, shrugged out of her jacket and shoulder
holster and stuffed everything into her bag before splashing water on her face.
Was it possible that Silvio had been that partner? Had Inocente and Silvio rigged
the kidnapping scheme together and worked it from the inside when Morelos de
Gama thought he was calling someone who would help?

She wiped her face
with a paper towel. As she wadded it up for the trash can she realized what was
wrong.

The new stall
doors were gone. They’d been double doors that came together and locked in the
middle. Six hollow enameled metal panels, two from each stall, were heaped on
the floor by the last urinal, concrete dust on the floor from gouges made when
they’d been thrown down. Twists of metal dangled from the panels, vestiges of
the hinges.

Before Emilia
could even begin to be furious, Gomez came into the bathroom. He closed the
door behind him and turned the deadbolt.

Emilia’s heart
hammered out an immediate and familiar warning bell. “Unlock the door, Gomez,”
she said.

“I’ve waited a
long time for you,” Gomez said, stroking his scrap of a beard. Not the smartest
detective, but not the dumbest, either. Gomez always had a snitch to help him,
always had some cash in his pocket, always got good dispatch assignments from
Lt. Inocente.