Silver Bullets (19 page)

Bruno's sheets had smelled clean. If they really were, then who was taking him on? Was it worth killing two people and threatening another just to challenge him? Why? No way could Goga be right, that would be too perverse; of course he had put quite a few people behind bars, but he had never received any threats or heard that anyone was seeking vengeance; nevertheless, he was about to meet whoever it might be. Bad guys think they are not living their lives unless they are goading the police into action the way ducks egg on hunters. It is the awful truth. But I have to get free of this case, I've had enough; if I meet the culprit, I'll say hello, How's the family? Listen, you were really good, always a block ahead of us. Quiroz annoys you? Don't pay any attention, he's nuts. Have you got any plans? And that will be it. Yet he went over the details once more: Canizales murdered, Paola's suicide, investigation held up, attack on my house, kid with the bike eliminated, attack on me, assault on Mariana Kelly, strange perfume, silver bullets, investigation suspended, and according to my girl the murderer is set on defeating me. Maybe he wants me there until the end.

List of those affected: Beatriz, her father, Abelardo, his wife, the mother of the kid, Laura, Mariana, Samantha, Frank Aldana.
Too many women. All of them except Mariana loved Bruno. The guys loved him too, especially Aldana, who Zelda Toledo exonerated without an interrogation. In Paola's case, only Abelardo and the kid loved her. The rest, to a greater or lesser degree, hated her guts. But Paola killed herself. Who could kill someone that everybody loved? Well, they brought down Kennedy, Gandhi, Lennon, Colosio, Che, Socrates, Marilyn. It may not be a starting point, but it is a place to end up. From what Rendón found out, there was an overriding sexual motive for Bruno's murder, vengeance? There were no signs of violence to the body or in the room where the crime took place, pleasure? Perhaps, that may be why the murderer used perfume. Did Goga know Bruno? I don't think so, what about the kid? Who did he see? Paola had his semen. Dante is part of the picture, would he kill Bruno and then the kid and still go around playing with his Rubik's cube? I'm so glad they suspended the case.

He observed Goga's body in profile, one leg bent.

Through the window a faint light filtered in.

On the fringe are the people from the USB: Ripalda, Figueroa, then there is Contreras, who both Foreman and Shorty linked to silver bullets, Gringo Ponce, the kid with the bike's gang, Mariana, Samantha, Yoonohoo Valdés. He recalled Foreman's report. Contreras was found gangsta-wrapped in Piggyback. Pineda could confirm that, that is, if no one has greased his palm.

Goga had fallen asleep at least two hours earlier, and he was on his sixth cigarette when he heard a sound at the front door. Was Samantha back? What a pain, he would have to leave; so he cleared his head, but the sound was muffled and Samantha was rowdy, and this was her house and no way would she open the door so delicately, besides, whoever it was was already inside and had not turned on a light the way she would, she must be sleeping with her son.

He put on his jeans, the black T-shirt; he chambered a round and opened the door a crack. It squeaked. He did not know why, but a bar in Tijuana came to mind, La Antigua Bodega de Papel, and its owner singing a ballad.

He managed to make out a shadow moving cautiously. Mental image. He was wearing dark clothes. Baseball cap. At the squeak he hugged the wall. Mendieta tossed a shoe into the hallway, and the shadow fired. Luigi barked in Mariana's room. The detective responded by pointing his own weapon. The intruder ran to the door and out of the apartment. After him. Behind Lefty came the two women, crouching low. Stairs. Lobby. Door. Luigi coming down too and without a bark. He reached the street to see a car heading off toward the Morelos Bridge.

He who seeks shall find, he thought, you are definitely not a narco.

They were having breakfast.

At ten o'clock Goga's husband called. I'm so nervous, Mariana murmured when she passed her the cordless telephone; Luigi, eyes alight, wagged his tail. The man was at Pedro Infante airport and loudly let it be known he wanted to have breakfast in Altata: I know how much you like the ceviche at La Güera's, my love, not to imply we need to recharge our batteries since we haven't seen each other in days, I just want to have something tasty at the seashore, did you rent a car? No, I've been taking taxis. So call one, turn on your cell phone, and we'll meet up in Bachigualato, where Airport Boulevard meets the highway to Navolato; I'm almost to the Budget counter, don't bathe, love, so you can do that sashay I like so much.

Goga wanted to die.

Everyone was watching Mendieta.

To top off the scene, at that moment Samantha came in with the child. Did this beautiful boy not go to school? We were late. Oh, César, Mariana exclaimed, they're going to give you a demerit. Of course they won't, Mama explained what we'll do, tomorrow I'll take a gift to the principal and another one to my
teacher, and they'll forget that I missed a day. Samantha noticed the detective: And what are you doing here, garbage face? Who are you calling garbage face? That one, what, don't you see his face? The boy smiled. Mariana moved her mouth, trying to tell her things were not right. Mendieta stood up and walked out.

Goga buried her head in her hands and was unable to say a word.

Poor Luigi.

There has got to be a way out of this besides alcohol, another dame, or writing ridiculous poems. There has got to be. He made out the boy screaming happily: Bye-bye, garbage face.

On Tuesday afternoon he returned the car to Castelo, to his home because he wanted to see him. He wanted to hear a man who counted on nothing and everything talk about a life without so much commotion. His sad bones ached for some of that pristine and unperturbed nonchalance. It was his bad luck that Foreman was not yet back from Altata, where he had gone for lunch with his family. So he sought refuge at home and drank half a bottle of Old Parr, read a Neruda poem, and convinced himself he had no one to call. Not even the accursed image of the abuser made him cry: he no longer knew how. He turned on the television, but the movies were awful, the politicians were spouting the same old crap, and the music videos were no distraction either. The Travel Channel was showing a documentary about paving stones in France that made him feel like the most miserable human being on earth. I'm fucked, he thought, if somehow I manage to get reborn I will never let this shit happen to me again, I've heard so many times that man is the only animal that will trip over the same stone twice and I simply never learn. Bardominos was back, his slender hands, his smell, his moist lips, his mentholated breath. He slugged another drink. I'll go
find Dr. Parra right now, and he had better help me out of this shit once and for all, because by myself I just can't.

Telephone.

If it's her I'm going to hang up, she's got me hooked all over again, the witch, truly. Why do I accuse her if I'm to blame? The inveterate idiot has a name, it's Edgar Mendieta. Call. Besides I don't love her, I don't like her short hair or her skirts or her perfume. Call. She's so skinny it's pathetic, her tiny breasts, her stride . . . it's all pathetic. Call. Hey, what are you doing at home, watering the plants or what? I'm saying the Rosary. You used to do that with our mother, you were the only one who went along with it. You remember that? As if it were yesterday. It was a way to be with her when she was losing her faith. I understood that later on. You know what, I like it when you call, are you okay? You could say I'm struggling to control the urge to hightail it back down there; you sound strange, are you drunk? Me, drunk? Bro, I'm a teetotaler. And my balls are square. I don't doubt it, since you're over there where science is so far ahead. You must have some powerful reasons to be drinking on a Tuesday and at this time of day. We closed a case and that was worth celebrating, we went out to eat, nothing out of the ordinary. How are my hometown girls? Those ungrateful bitches? Up to their old tricks, you know they aren't any less than they ever were. Honestly, you sound like you're drunk. Not even tipsy. You're wasted, bro. Wasted? Enrique, it was only two bottles of tequila. Don't say the word, it makes my mouth water, besides which over here it costs an eye from your face. With the risk that it's made in China. Or worse. If you miss it so much, why don't you come for a visit? It seems like nobody remembers anything about you. Are you sure you want me? Of course. Would you take a few days off to hang around with me? I'm my own boss and I can take a vacation. Oh, did you get a promotion? No
way, I'm still a lousy detective without rank, some people call me Commander, others Lieutenant, yesterday a lady called me Commissary. What does your badge say? Nothing, just Detective. Well, that's what you are, listen, I want to tell you something, don't get scared, I find it so extraordinary that I don't know where to begin. Uh oh, what, did you turn faggot? Not at all, it's something else, nothing bad, bizarre but not bad, surprising. Spill it if you don't want my blood pressure to go over the top. Do you remember Susana, Doña Mary's daughter? Of course, Susy, I remember her well. She went out with you? We went on a couple of dates, I was in fourth year in literature and she was in fifth in administration. Well, you have a son. He took out a cigarette, what? He looks a shitload like you. Eh, you're kidding, right? The doctors say my sperm can barely crawl so they're incapable of fertilizing. Her egg probably saw they were dawdling and went out to meet them, who's to say? He put the cigarette away. I met him this morning and I couldn't believe it, I tell you he's the spitting image of you, he's seventeen and tall, national high school champ in the mile, what do you think of that? Amazing, like you say, it sobered me right up. He took the cigarette out again and lit it. I can hear that, in any case the dude wants to meet you, just like that, no commitments, what do you think? Mendieta took a deep drag: What's your advice? Remember, you're the elder. I say you should meet him, you've got nothing to lose, they live in Fresno, but they made a special trip to Portland so I could meet him and they asked me to make the connection. He took another drag: It seems unbelievable. That's exactly what I thought when I had him in front of me, wearing his black T-shirt and that innocuous smile that kills the girls without a word. In the street a pickup went by blasting a narcocorrido at full volume. When would it be? In the summer, Susana is going back for the first time to visit her family, and
the kid wants to take advantage of the trip, his name is Jason Mendieta. What? Just the way it sounds, life brings surprises, like Rubén Blades says. Well, okay, give them my address and phone number for when they get here. Congratulations, bro, and enjoy it, not every day do you get news like that.

He turned on the stereo: “Reflections of My Life” by the Marmalade. He shaved slowly trying to recall details about Susana, but it got all mixed up with Goga, her sashay to the bathroom and her skirts. He took a shower and went to bed: proud Susana, a pretty mole over there, right? You kept that well hidden, didn't you, you hussy? Goga, go away, would you? It's over.

He slept poorly but even so managed to pick up his car and arrive early at headquarters.

Zelda came in with her Diet Coke: Where have you been, boss? Aha, you shaved, wow, you look really young, congratulations, I can see you had a few days you won't forget, they send you flowers and you look like a TV star. What is this all about, Agent Toledo, I insist you show some respect and please, never let yourself be impressed by a shave. I'm sorry, it's just that you really do look good, you've shaken off a few years. Angelita interrupted: Robles on the phone, Zelda, did you check out the boss we have? That's what I'm telling him, he's turned into a metrosexual. More days like these, Lord, no. Toledo picked up the telephone: Homicide. A gangsta-wrap was reported on the coast highway, near the entrance to La Primavera development. Let Investigative Services know and Forensic Medicine, we'll head right over; boss, life goes on, shall we take your car or mine? Mine. The one that looks like a boat? No, it's horrible.

They were going by Ernesto Millán Park toward La Primavera when Mendieta's cell phone rang. Please don't call me, even if you are on your knees, bawling and whatever, I am not going to
answer, why is it so hard for you to understand? I don't love you, our affair is over and done with, and those flouncy skirts don't suit you. It was Carlos Alvarado, the only person he had talked to from the list of people who bought silver bullets. Hello. Sergeant Mendieta, how are you? How is life treating you? If I had not dedicated my life to farming, I would have been a policeman, it's a way to be of direct service to society. I'm fine, Don Carlos, and you? A thought occurred to me, did you speak with my compadre Ernestina de Villegas? No, Don Carlos. I thought not, she was in the United States, her two eldest sons live there, she went to visit them, but she's home now, I told her you were planning to ask her about the silver bullets my compadre Federico bought, she said to drop by whenever you like, no need to call ahead; she also told me she knows where the bullets are and that if they are not where she thinks, then for sure they are at the farm. Thank you, Don Carlos, we will visit your compadre today, I appreciate it, good-bye.

I guess Canizales does not agree that his case should be closed by decree, and it seems the murderer does not either. What do you plan to do? A little push wouldn't be a bad idea, don't you think? Is there something new? A few things. He told her what had happened, except for the strange encounter at Mariana's house. They suspended the conversation to listen to Quiroz insult the murderer in the name of the Federal Preventive Police. That guy is nuts, Zelda said, who would think of doing that? I would, he explained his strategy.

Moisés Pineda greeted them. What are you people doing here? This one is mine. Who is he? Felipe Garza, member of the Gulf Cartel. What is he doing so far away? That is something we won't find out. Garza lay riddled with bullets in his Versace shirt and his ostrich-leather belt. To one side, the San Marcos blanket in which he had been wrapped. Captain, don't forget about our breakfast. The federal agent smiled happily, tomorrow at nine in
the Chuparrosa Enamorada. That's a commitment, listen, Captain, who did you give Estanislao Contreras's body to? Or was it Quevedo? Pineda looked at him warily. Quiroz interrupted them: Commander Pineda, what can you tell us so far about today's victim? Lefty, ask me again tomorrow, he winked at him. They said good-bye.

They headed off toward Chapultepec, where the Villegas family lived.

Lost in thought. Across from San Miguel Shopping Center, Zelda Toledo turned to look directly at him.

Can I tell you something? The description of the SUV that Kelly gave fits Abelardo Rodríguez's car, at least the one he was driving the day he brought us the permit for his pistol. Are you sure? The vending machine at headquarters wasn't working, so I went out to the Oxxo to get my Diet Coke, it was parked there, I got a good look at it. If Ezequiel Barraza was in his daughter's bedroom, maybe he heard him, then he went to Altata and later on he let himself be seen by Mariana Kelly at the building where she lives. That is how an alcoholic would act. Or a troublemaker who wants to get caught. Let's go get him.

He called Beatriz. How's your father? He's drinking, I told him he's losing it. Are you at home? Yes, but I'm about to go out, I can't stand it anymore, he won't stop telling me to get an abortion, and I'm not going to do it; as far as I'm concerned this baby changed my life. Take it easy, go to a café, have some papaya juice, and think about your child's future, and do me a favor, look on your cell phone to see if Ezequiel called me two nights before the day he died; maybe you were in the bathroom or something, I'll call you back in two minutes.

For the first time he saw the SUV with tinted windows. Olive-green Cherokee. Dirty. He got hold of Beatriz again, and yes, Barraza had made the call when she was in the bathroom.

Abelardo Rodríguez was drunk and by himself in the living room of his home. Detective Mendieta, how are you, come in both of you. He was listening to Rocío Dúrcal's “Amor Eterno.” What a delight to have you here, would you like a drink? It would be a pleasure. At last we'll have a drink with real glasses, which is only proper. Zelda gave her partner a puzzled look. And you, señorita? No, thank you, it's rather early for me. You're right, Paola used to say that avoiding alcohol is the best way to keep your skin looking fresh, although she didn't hold herself to that very often, my daughter was a volcano, you have no idea how much we miss her. He turned off the stereo. He poured. Your health, they said. Someplace in the world it must be five o'clock, the host added, and he downed it all. In an instant the tension rose. Will you have another, Detective? He filled his own glass. I'd rather you tell us why you killed Ezequiel Barraza. Rodríguez looked at his whiskey, then at Mendieta; defenseless, he smiled: You are right, Detective, you do belong to the band of the bad guys, then he looked serious, his eyes grew moist; it was a father's motives, Detective, that bastard was sleeping with both my daughters in my own house, several times I spoke with him, I insisted he show some respect for my home, and every time he just mocked me, his behavior was utterly gross, he drained his glass, he left me no option; Beatriz is pregnant, can you imagine a child from that fiend? No way could I hold myself back, the only thing that weighs on me is the sorrow I've caused his mother. What about Bruno Canizales? That one I did not kill. Did you go to his house? I went there that very night, I followed Paola, I knew she was going to him and I got there ahead of her; I saw her go into the lawyer's home, I saw her come out. So Paola killed him. No, the time she was in there went by without a sound, and my pistol does not have a silencer. What time was that? About six, the sun was about to
come up; I had already showered to get ready for work when I heard her come home about 5:20, I heard her leave again, and I followed her to Guadalupe. When you decided to sentence Ezequiel, did a call he made two nights before have anything to do with it? I know nothing about that. Why did you want to kill Mariana Kelly? I like you, Detective, you guess everything. Why did you follow her all the way to Altata? She and Samantha Valdés threatened my daughter; I happened to run into them getting gas at Del Valle and saw them happy as could be, I don't know, it didn't seem fair that my daughter was dead and they were enjoying themselves as if nothing had happened; I followed them, I found where they stay on the beach, and I went back two days later; the moment I pulled the trigger, my foot sank into the sand and unfortunately I missed, the poor dog. But that wasn't enough, you turned up at her apartment. Well, yeah, I wanted to finish the job. And then you broke into her apartment at night. I broke into her apartment, you say? Yes, and you fired. No, that wasn't me, on Sunday I spied on them, that I won't deny, but I never tried to enter her house. The dog identified you. I don't doubt it, they are very sensitive animals. Lefty remembered that Luigi kept wagging his tail when they chased the intruder down the stairs, who could it have been? And what about the silver bullets? They were a gift from Don Federico Villegas, may he rest in peace, about ten years ago we did some repairs to his country house and he gave me five; since they used silver bullets on Canizales I figured I would do the same, I thought it would put you off the trail. Who told you that Mariana Kelly and Samantha Valdés threatened your daughter? I read it in her diary, it has so many personal things I didn't dare give it to you; now there is no point in keeping it hidden, I have it in my desk, he pointed to the open door of the office, he stood up, and I'm pleased you're one of the bad guys even if all we ever talk about is this mess.
The detective also stood up: I ought to go with you. I don't mind, by the way, your friend is a real looker, I saw her in Navolato when they all came out of the clinic and then again on the highway, he smiled. Mendieta held himself in check.