by Sam Hawken
Jack grabbed Guadalupe by the neck and pushed him over on the couch. Guadalupe’s arms stuck out behind him, his wrists bound, his fingers clenched into fists. Jack pried at them with his bare hands, and then used the sharp edge of the steak knife as a lever to break a fist open. A gash in Guadalupe’s palm oozed blood.
‘Jack, what are you doing?’ Gonzalo demanded.
‘Turn that TV up!’
It was easier to isolate one finger and hold it steady. Jack put the knife to the second knuckle and sawed into the joint.
At the first bite of the blade, Guadalupe screamed. Jack pressed down on Guadalupe’s back, forcing the man’s face into the couch cushion. On the television, a daytime talk show blared, the hosts discussing cheaper alternatives to expensive cosmetics. It meant nothing.
The knife was not as sharp as he wanted it to be and the tendon and cartilage were tougher than the most overcooked meat. Jack bent the finger until it broke along the line of the cut and then he attacked the exposed tissue with the serrated blade. Guadalupe was weeping now, but Jack could not hear him over the pounding of his own heart in his ears.
Gonzalo rushed away into another room, the bathroom, to vomit.
It seemed forever before the finger came loose in his hands. The couch cushion was sodden with blood and it flowed steadily out of the ragged stump Jack left behind. He flung the knife away and dragged Guadalupe up by the throat. ‘What happened to the girls?’
Gonzalo was back now and he spoke weakly. ‘Jack, for God’s sake.’
‘Shut up! Tell me now! Tell me right now!’ A bubble of mucus blew up and burst in Guadalupe’s nostril. His face was streaked with tears and the words that came were fragmented and babbling. Jack smacked Guadalupe with his open hand until he bled from the mouth. ‘I swear to Christ I’ll cut off another one if you don’t start talking.’
‘I sold them,’ Guadalupe said. His lips were swelling and one was broken.
‘What?’
‘I sold them!’
‘Who did you sell them to, you son of a bitch? Where are they?’
‘I sold them to águila,’ Guadalupe said, and then he slumped. Jack smelled urine.
‘águila,’ Jack said. ‘The Zeta? águila the Zeta?’
‘Leave him alone, Jack,’ Gonzalo said. ‘Don’t do this anymore.’
‘No! You tell me: what happened? You sold them to águila. Did he collect them himself?’
Guadalupe shook his head. ‘He sent men to get them. They paid me.’
‘Where did they go?’
‘La Zona.’
Jack took Guadalupe by the face and forced his mouth open, his fingers slippery with blood. He jammed the severed finger between Guadalupe’s teeth and then mashed his jaw shut. ‘You…’ he said. ‘You…’
‘Jack, he’s told you now!’
He searched for the steak knife and found it on a scattering of envelopes. He closed his fist around the handle and turned on Guadalupe. He stabbed Guadalupe in the chest and then again, then more and more as the man struggled against his bonds. Gonzalo’s hands were on him, dragging him away, but he kept on stabbing until the knife stuck between ribs and would not move. Only then did he allow Gonzalo to draw him off.
‘Jack,’ Gonzalo said, ‘come back. Come back, Jack. It’s over. He’s dead.’
Jack tore himself away from Gonzalo and staggered toward the back hallway. He found the bathroom and saw himself in the mirror, his face and chest spattered with blood and his hands crimson. Hot running water cleansed his hands and he splashed more on his face. His eyes were rimmed with red.
Back in the front room he found Gonzalo standing over Guadalupe’s body. Gonzalo’s expression was bleak and he held his hands out at his sides as if he didn’t know what to do with them. There was more blood on the television screen. ‘My God, Jack,’ Gonzalo said.
‘We have to get out of here,’ Jack said, and he slurred his words. A feeling of drunkenness came over him and he was unsteady on his feet. It was the last of the adrenaline draining from him.
‘You have blood all over you,’ Gonzalo said. ‘Someone will see.’
‘I’ll see if he has a jacket.’
Jack went to the bedroom and searched the closet until he found a nylon windbreaker. It was much too small, but it could close across his chest and hide the worst of the stains. When he returned to Gonzalo, he found that Gonzalo had not moved.
‘You’ll never get past the army or the Federal Police looking like that,’ Gonzalo said.
‘We’ll figure it out,’ Jack replied. ‘Let’s go.’
‘We’ll leave Guadalupe like this?’
Jack spared one last look at Guadalupe’s corpse, the knife still jutting from his torso. He felt nothing. ‘He won’t care.’
SEVEN
HE GAVE MONEY TO GONZALO TO GO into a little market and buy new clothes for him. Gonzalo returned with a blue work shirt and a package of white undershirts. Jack changed without getting out of the truck and rolled his stained clothes into a ball inside Guadalupe’s windbreaker before stuffing all of it under the front seat. ‘Let’s find somewhere to eat,’ Jack told Gonzalo.
They stopped at a storefront restaurant with a cartoon cactus painted on the front window and took a table against the wall. Jack ordered cheese enchiladas and Gonzalo had tamales and rice. Jack found that he was terribly hungry and he tore into his plate. Gonzalo picked at his food.
‘Are you thinking about things?’ Jack asked Gonzalo after a while.
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t. I’m not going to think one minute about those cabrones. They don’t deserve anything from you, either.’
Gonzalo cut the end off a tamale with the edge of his fork, stabbed at the piece and twirled it in a pool of sauce without raising it to his lips. He did not look at Jack. ‘I’m party to two murders,’ he said. ‘This morning I was a policeman. Now I am a criminal.’
‘Say it a little louder,’ Jack said.
‘I’m serious, Jack.’
‘I know. But you made your decision and now you have to live with it. I am.’
‘I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: it’s not too late for you to back out of this. Take your truck and drive across the river and never come back to Mexico again. I’ll do what I can to protect you from my end. They can even suspect me of being party to it, but they’ll have no proof.’
Jack shoveled refried beans and rice onto a tortilla. ‘If Guadalupe and Fregoso were in as deep as you say, there’ll be a lot more people to suspect. Maybe they’ll pass it off as drugrelated.’
‘I don’t feel so sure.’
‘Well, goddamn it, what else do you want from me?’ Jack demanded, though he kept his voice low. There were others in the restaurant, but no one turned his way. ‘I needed what they could tell me and then I needed to keep them quiet. This was the only way. We would have wasted weeks doing things your way. Months, maybe. Don’t you get that Marina and Patricia were alive when Guadalupe saw them last? That means they’re waiting for us. We can’t play games anymore.’
Gonzalo took a few desultory bites and then put his fork down. ‘I never saw this as a game, Jack. I did what I had to do because that is the way things are supposed to be carried out. We don’t live in the Wild West. Mexico has laws. Maybe they aren’t well enforced, but we have to at least try, otherwise there would be anarchy.’
Jack bit and chewed instead of snapping back. He was aware of Gonzalo’s body, hunkered down guiltily in his seat, rarely raising his eyes to look at Jack. The man was playing with his food again and suddenly Jack wanted to smack the fork out of Gonzalo’s hand. He forced a tone of calm into his voice. ‘The minute you took my money to work on this case, you stepped out of bounds. This is just more of the same. And besides, your hands are clean. I’m the one who did the two of them and if it comes to it I’ll do it again.’
‘How many people are you prepared to kill?’
‘As many as it takes.’
‘Are you pre
pared to die?’
‘I’ve been ready for that ever since Marina disappeared. You just don’t get it, do you? She may not have been my blood, but she was my daughter. You don’t have any kids, so you don’t know what it’s like when they’re in trouble. You’ll do anything, say anything, to get them out of it. My only mistake was waiting so long, and if it turns out that I’m too late, I’ll never forgive myself.’
‘No one’s doubting your love for Marina,’ Gonzalo said.
‘You’re just doubting me.’
Now Gonzalo looked at Jack directly. He gestured with his fork. ‘Should I not doubt you? You are a killer, Jack. I am your accomplice. We sit here eating this meal and talking when I could haul you in front of Alvares’ men and be congratulated for bringing you in. If I doubt you, then I have a right to doubt you. I must be mad!’
‘You’re not crazy. You’re clear, that’s all. For the first time, things are happening the way they should.’
Gonzalo shook his head. ‘I am insane. Totally. Completely. Without question. What have we done?’
Jack’s plate was clear. He signaled the waitress, a young woman no older than Marina, for a fresh glass of iced tea. Gonzalo’s eyes were on him, on the edge of wildness. ‘All right,’ Jack said. ‘I’m sorry. Turn me in.’
‘Don’t be stupid. First you would go to prison and then I would follow close behind. I am as guilty as you are. And the worst thing is that I allowed it to happen because I could not speak against it when the moment was right.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
Gonzalo pushed his fingers through his hair and sighed. ‘Because I know it’s the only way. I knew it from the moment they suspended me. There was no alternative. Thinking anything else was foolish.’
‘Then it’s done,’ Jack said. ‘We’re in it.’
‘We have to discuss what comes next,’ Gonzalo said. ‘We are in uncharted territory now. Fregoso and Guadalupe were the easy ones. They were weak. From now on we’ll have to deal with Los Zetas, and they are harder than you can imagine.’
The new glass came and the old one was taken away. Jack thanked the girl. When she was gone, he said, ‘Marina was taken to La Zona. There can’t be that many places she could have gone. We’ll need to talk to some people.’
‘I will talk to them,’ Gonzalo said. ‘Some things are the same now as they were before: you are too obvious and the first person you question will spread the word about you far and wide.’
‘I’m not going to be sidelined again,’ Jack said.
‘You won’t be. I will keep you close, but I will be the leader for this. La Zona is a small place and there are only so many places the girls could have gone. It helps that we know águila’s name. That will make it easier to get to the bottom of things.’
‘If people will talk.’
‘Yes, if they will talk. And they will talk because you are going to give me American dollars to spread around. La Zona is about money, first and foremost. All other considerations fall by the wayside.’
‘Who are you going to talk to? Other Zetas?’
‘La Zona is neutral territory,’ Gonzalo said. ‘Everybody takes a little from everybody else. There are plenty of other eyes and ears there besides the Zetas and their associates.’
‘Do you know where you’re going to start?’
Gonzalo nodded. ‘When I first saw Guadalupe and águila together it was at a club in La Zona. They were well known there. Someone will tell me about águila.’
‘If I find him, I’m gonna kill him,’ Jack said.
‘Not before he tells us where to find the girls,’ Gonzalo said. ‘I do not know how far up the chain of command águila goes. He may be acting on behalf of someone we don’t know yet. If he dies too soon, we may never get the answers we seek. Besides, are you so eager to have another man’s blood on your hands?’
‘This man’s,’ Jack said.
Gonzalo put his fork down and pushed his plate away. It was barely touched. ‘Let us be perfectly clear: I won’t be a party to wanton slaughter,’ he said. ‘If your intention is to kill every Zeta we meet, you will have to find some other partner. My first priority is the girls. Where are they? Are they safe? Everything else is secondary.’
‘I’m not out of control,’ Jack said.
‘You did not see yourself in Guadalupe’s apartment.’
‘I’ve said I’m calm.’
‘There is no sense getting ahead of ourselves anyway,’ Gonzalo said. ‘We have not found águila, nor do we even know where he might be. We’ll get those answers in La Zona, I’m certain of it.’
Jack’s phone vibrated in his pocket and then began to chirp. He looked at the screen and did not recognize the number. It was a Mexican area code. He opened the line. ‘Hello?’
‘Sr Searle? This is Captain Alvares.’
His first instinct was to look over his shoulder, through the front window of the restaurant and into the street. He was convinced he would see an army Humvee there. ‘Capitán,’ Jack said. ‘I didn’t expect to hear from you.’
Across the table, Gonzalo stiffened. Jack motioned for silence.
‘I wanted to call and ask how you are doing,’ Alvares said. ‘If you are well and your stepdaughter is well.’
‘Have… have you heard something about Marina?’ Jack stuttered.
Alvares’ voice was somber. ‘I’m afraid I have not. But we are still looking into it.’
‘Thank you,’ Jack said.
‘There is no need to thank me. I also wanted to tell you that we were able to recover the last of your brother-in-law’s remains. The family has not held the funeral yet?’
‘No. No, they haven’t. You found the… the head?’
‘Yes. It was discovered at a roadside shrine to Santísima Muerte, just outside the city. Identification was not immediate.’
‘A shrine?’ Jack asked.
‘The narcos have shrines to Saint Death in many places. They make offerings there for protection and good fortune, burn prayer candles… and sometimes leave trophies. I’m very sorry.’
‘You can’t help it.’
‘Will you return to Nuevo Laredo for the services?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘I’m afraid I will not be able to attend, but I wish to extend my deepest condolences to you and your entire family. There is no good way to lose a loved one, and this is one of the worst.’
‘Thank you for calling,’ Jack said robotically.
‘Until we meet again, Sr Searle. Adiós.’
Jack closed his phone and put it on the table beside his empty plate. ‘They found Bernardo’s head.’
‘Does he know you’ve crossed the bridge?’
‘If he does, he didn’t say so.’
‘Then there’s still time. We need to find a place to stay until dark. La Zona comes alive at night.’
‘I know a place,’ Jack said, and he signaled for the check.
EIGHT
NO ONE HAD BOTHERED TO REPAIR THE shattered front door of Bernardo’s home. Jack opened the gate to park his truck in the carport and Gonzalo left his car on the street. Everything was as the police and the army had left it: the collection of empty bottles still stood by the couch, and the floor was thick with bloodstains.
Jack did his best not to look at the blood, but his eyes were drawn to it. There were two clear puddles, one markedly smaller than the other. He had stabbed Guadalupe to death without blinking, but imagining Little Bernardo there made him feel ill and he had to retreat into the kitchen for distance.
The refrigerator still had food inside and Jack and Gonzalo shared Reina’s limonada. ‘When will they have the funeral for your brother-in-law and his boy?’ Gonzalo asked.
Jack had to think. ‘In a couple of days. They had to wait until the coroner was through with the bodies. I don’t know what took them so long. It’s not like there was some big mystery to solve.’
‘Things move slowly here.’
‘Isn’t that the godd
amned truth.’
They lingered around the bare kitchen table until the sun began to dim through the window above the sink. Though he could not understand why at first, he still took the time to rinse the glasses they used and put them on the drying rack. Reina and Leandra would come back here someday. It should be tidy for them when they did. Jack wondered whether Reina would have to clean the blood of her husband and son from the floor herself.
‘We’ll take my car,’ Gonzalo said.
By the time they reached La Zona it was nearly full dark and all the lights were on. As they drove past the little police station at the entrance, Jack turned his head to watch the army truck stationed there. He saw no soldiers, but a Federal Police truck was parked directly behind the other truck and the barred windows of the station glowed.
Gonzalo took a space directly in front of a place that advertised gambling and women. Trailing along the row of structures toward the west were cribs, the little rooms where prostitutes rented a space and a bed to do their work, the kind Iris Contreras had rented. Many of the prostitutes were already out on the dirt on the lookout, dressed in as little as they could get away with, which in La Zona was very little. Thankfully he did not see Iris among them, though he knew she could not be far.
‘El Pájaro,’ Gonzalo told Jack. ‘It’s down at the end of the block. I should warn you: it’s a transvestite place.’
‘Am I supposed to be dressed up?’
‘No, not you,’ Gonzalo said.
They proceeded down the street and the prostitutes gave way reluctantly, catching at Jack’s arm or standing in his way until it was clear he would not stop. Most were young, but some were not and many were plain. When they turned from Jack and Gonzalo they hailed other men who wandered along the street or cruised the block. Some cars pulled into open spaces and their drivers got out to haggle with the women openly. Jack had never been to this area, Boys’ Town, before. He had not imagined it like this. They did not even have paved roads and there was a frontier-town feel to everything he saw.
By the time they reached El Pájaro, Jack was tired of the come-ons and the touches and wanted to lash out at the next woman who came near him, but the cribs were left behind and the worst with them. Now there were just the loud-talking men in the doors of the bars and brothels, acting like human billboards under the orange luminescence of the streetlights.