by Tony Lavely
As they all settled themselves, Mamani exclaimed, “I am sorry! Barbara told me you arrived directly from your flight. Would you like to freshen up? Or refreshments? Barbara enjoyed the tea I offer.”
“For me,” Beckie said, “I’m fine. I changed into this…” She plucked at her skirt. “… before we landed. Tea would be magnificent though.”
“Tea or coffee, as you find convenient,” Ian said.
“Coffee then. You will join Rebecca and I, Barbara?”
While the refreshments were being prepared, Beckie stood and walked the room’s perimeter, examining the framed images one by one.
“Most are my family. We are prolific,” Mamani said with a laugh. “The letters are land transfer documents, mostly, proving our ownership of this, our home and finca. Ranch, or estate, you would say.”
“Very nice. Who is this?” She pointed to a portrait, a yard square, of a boy of perhaps thirteen or so, dressed in what Beckie thought was native garb.
Mamani didn’t approach. “My father, years ago.”
Fortunately, the refreshments arrived in the next moment; Beckie took her seat and waited while the server did his work.
Once everyone was settled, Ian said, “Señora Mamani, I thank you for allowing us to talk with you about your compatriot, Mateo Huamán.”
Mamani sipped her tea; Beckie did likewise, enjoying the light scent of freshly mown hay.
“I must request your discretion,” Mamani said, “with anything I tell you. Barbara asked only about his death. What is your interest?”
“His name arose twice in our investigation of a team member’s kidnapping.” He explained the little they knew and suspected, based on the news reports and the research Boynton had done.
“So,” Beckie said, “I thought it unbelievable this Talos would be involved in a street crime… an ordinary mugging. When we heard the audio tape of Huamán and Talos, it seemed even less likely. Hence, our question to you about his death. What actually happened?”
“Why me?”
“To be honest…” Beckie shot a glance at Ian, who smiled his quiet smile. “… you came to mind first because Barbara was already working with you. We would have asked her to query others had you had no information. Or interest.” She smiled. “Now, I hope you have something to gain from talking with us.”
“Hmm.” Mamani sipped her tea. “Well, while it is long and dry, especially for those who did not live through it… I will attempt…” She sighed. “Very well. The story must begin several years ago. Our political group was briefly enamored of… improving the operation of one of the government’s departments.”
“Which department, señora?” Ian asked.
The woman didn’t respond at once. Her drawn lips and flared nostrils; is she angry with him, or is she just scared of telling us? Whichever, Beckie thought, this is hard for her.
Mamani stood and began pacing, first slowly then more rapidly. She stopped at the end of the sofa. “The Ministry of Justice and Human Rights,” she said curtly, then returned to her pacing.
A small smile curved Ian’s lips. “That Ministry has a storied history of… corruption, or it may be more politic to say, take-over attempts.”
Mamani stopped short and gaped at him for a second before responding, “True, I suppose. However, earlier attempts were not… recorded.” She took her seat. “One of our group…” She stopped, her face twisted, but Beckie didn’t see anger or hatred there, just confusion and fear.
“I don’t understand, señora.” Out of the corner of her eye Beckie saw both Barbara and Ian nod in agreement.
Mamani sighed. “Five of us planned to force the Minister to overlook some egregious violations of the then campaign financing regulations. Myself, obviously. Mateo Huamán, Minister of the Interior. Piero Salvadore, Deputy Minister of the Interior and two others, one of whom has since died and the other… The other, Jaime Lobera, used video equipment to record our meetings.”
“You didn’t know… or… You thought to control him?” Once the words were out, Beckie feared her disbelief was too clear. Her next question—How could that happen?—she kept to herself.
Mamani’s lip twisted. “I can understand your surprise. Jaime was to record the meetings as a protection for all of us. If each of us had the same video… In any event, when he was arrested, due to the campaign financing violations I mentioned, we were dismayed for him, and then for ourselves, thinking he would use the recording to… improve his own position. However, he did not, and Mateo discovered the reason when he visited him after the trial.” She sipped her tea. “He could not because the cassettes had disappeared during the investigation.”
Beckie sat back as Barbara said, “And no one—”
“No one knows who purloined the videos, correct,” Mamani said. “After several attempts to trace them, we agreed they must have been taken in an attempt to help our friend.” Her telephone rang once, but she continued, “Like the others, I hoped they had been destroyed, though deep down, I feared otherwise.”
As Beckie nodded, thinking, I can understand the hope… and the reality, Mamani lifted the phone and listened. “Good,” she said into it. “Bring him in, please.” She replaced the handset and said, “Because your question dealt with Mateo’s death, I asked Piero Salvadore, our Minister of the Interior, to join us, and he has just arrived.”
The door opened, and Philip showed a moderately tall Hispanic man in. In his suit, he appeared a well-groomed fit man; his black hair was neatly trimmed, but Beckie was surprised, his eyes were downcast, almost apologetic.
“Welcome, Piero. Thank you for making time.”
“How can I help? I only have a few minutes, so…”
“Of course. First, this is Ian Jamse, Rebecca Sverdupe and Barbara Saunders, all of Ian Jamse, LLC, who are assisting with campaign security.”
Piero approached and shook hands with each of them. Beckie used a firm grip and was surprised to find it too strong. She relaxed and gave him a smile. As he moved to a chair, he said, “Our security people have reported you have also provided them valuable insights, so I’m glad to meet you. Even though we…” He nodded to Mamani. “… oppose each other, we both wish the election to be fair and safe for all.”
Mamani gave them a wry smile. “We were discussing Jaime’s videos… As I mentioned to you, Mr. Jamse is curious about the circumstances of Mateo Huamán’s death.”
“Do you believe the videos are related to his death?” Piero asked.
“I’m afraid we have no real idea,” Beckie said. “His name came up in a different investigation, so we thought to examine it further. Hopefully you can assist us.”
“I don’t know how much I can help, but… Let me tell you what I recall.
“About two years ago, Mateo, then Minister and my superior, called me to meet him in New York, at a symposium at the United Nations. While I was unaware at the time, he intended me to help with an… exchange he had arranged.”
“We have already talked about the videos,” Mamani said.
“Very well. I assume, since our mutual fates rest with them…”
Ian sat up even straighter. “Be assured, Minister Salvador, we will divulge nothing we hear here.”
“I must accept that, if Nayra has described the video’s content as we understand it.” He sighed. He’s not all that comfortable, Beckie mused. I wonder why. Piero continued, “So, the exchange he had arranged… Well, the night I arrived, we met with two men, Donato Talos and his man, León, in a bar. Eventually, we agreed León would come the next day to my hotel room, where we had placed the gold. I would deliver the gold to him, and then, later in the evening, Talos and Mateo would meet so he could receive the videos from Talos.
“The only thing that changed from the arrangement… Talos joined León when they came for the gold. And of course, he and Mateo apparently disagreed about something, and Mateo died of a stab wound inflicted by Talos.
“The next day, the police told us a woman had seen the
fight, and she would testify. They also reported neither of them had any video recordings.
“Talos’ attorney confirmed that, but suggested neither the arrest nor the witness would greatly inconvenience either Talos or us. However, he also told us while Talos was incarcerated, no one had access to either the gold we had paid or the videos.
“I believe that is all I can share with you.”
Mamani had been walking back and forth while listening to Piero.
“The attorney’s name? Do you recall it?” Beckie asked.
“What? Yes, yes of course. Goldfarb. Samuel Goldfarb.” He looked at his watch. “Unless there is something else…” He stood and went to the door.
“Thank you Minister,” Beckie said, echoed by Mamani.
He waved and went through the door.
When Beckie turned back, Barbara’s face was pale; she’d never seen such a sallow color. “Barbara? What’s the matter?”
Barbara snapped around to gawk at Beckie. “That witness he talked about… That was Abby?”
“According to the reports we have read, yes,” Ian replied.
“In Abby’s notes… I put this in the reports but didn’t flag it; it seemed to have no bearing on the contract work… She had heard stories of counterfeiting dollars, smuggling them into the US.”
“Any details?”
Barbara twisted her lips into a wry smile. “None. Well… No. You know I assigned her to the undercover work in Arequipa, working with the opposition teams to ferret out any rumors of violence or disruptions. She reported every week, but this had been logged for the third, just after her last report.” Barbara took a tablet computer from her bag and tapped the screen. “Right… She hadn’t heard any names, but the informant told her ‘high-ranking government official.’”
“Did she record the informant’s name?”
Barbara shook her head. “SOP, here.”
Ian nodded.
Beckie pulled her ponytail around to play with. “That’s interesting… I suppose it could play into her—” Ian’s touch stopped her short. “Anyway, right now I don’t see any possible connection.” She sipped the cold end of her tea. “Let’s return to the video. How would you have verified it?”
“Talos provided convincing excerpts when he made the initial contact. Mateo and I were both in the meetings; we agreed the images he showed Mateo were from our video.” She paused. “I hope this answers your questions, as I have no more to tell.”
“One question, señora. Why did you think it better we met you here?”
She smiled. “Aside from showing off a little of my beautiful country, you mean? Simply for security. As the Minister said, my words to you would be as bad as the videos if overheard. Here,” she said, waving a hand to indicate the house, “I have some control. I could not afford the time to travel to you. That is all.” Her brows rose and her lips quirked into an inquisitive line. “You have an interesting expression, Mr. Jamse.”
“I am sorting through the facts you have added. You have made an excellent beginning,” Ian said. “I can confirm some of your story, in that I believe your gold is now in our possession. Two bars in a wooden case marked machine tools, is that correct?” She nodded, mouth now open. “They appear to bear identification; I will ask that photographs be sent so you may verify if they are the same bars.”
“Thank you. How did they come to your possession?”
Ian described Abby’s conflict in Brewster. He paused when he finished. “You may have answered a question which has bothered me since then: why has a million dollars worth of gold laid gathering dust for two years.”
“Oh? How is that?”
“If Talos’ man did take the gold, Talos may have instructed him to place it in the shed, rather than pointing him to a secure but secret resting place. He, Talos, was then arrested before he could recover it. The crate had been opened, but the gold would not have been obvious in a casual examination.”
”I understand.” Mamani said. “However… The video cassettes have not appeared?” Both Beckie and Ian shook their heads. “If they should surface during the campaign…” She shook her head. “Should you be willing… I would offer the gold as your fee for returning the videos to me.” Wow! Being President… or not being arrested, at least, must mean a lot.
Philip had been moving anxiously; Mamani glanced at her watch. “Unfortunately, my next appointment is near. Please forgive me.”
Ian was focusing on something; Beckie didn’t know what. Could it be he’s thinking about the attack? Or Eilís’s message? She faced the woman and replied, “I understand. If we have more questions, will you have time tomorrow morning?”
Mamani glanced at Gomez, who opened his notebook. “You have twenty minutes available at 8:15 tomorrow.”
“That will be fine,” Ian said. “Thank you.”
During dinner, Ian agreed with Beckie that they had no reason to believe the counterfeiting and smuggling operations in Abby’s notes related to her death, and Goldfarb’s mysterious ‘package’ could be the videos Mamani sought. “But we should not discuss either of those here,” he said. She pouted a moment before leaning forward into what she considered the off-topic conversation: Barbara and Rich’s security work.
OJT
On Monday morning, Beckie and Ian curled up in the Gulfstream as Mathilde flew back to the Nest. So as not to waste the time, Beckie asked about Flores, and if Ian had decided.
“While the chances of gaining information are remote, they are not infinitesimal.” He took his phone and as Beckie watched, asked Elena Rios and Beth Stadd to shepherd Flores to the mainland, and then monitor his onward travels.
Beckie spent a couple of hours the next day, Tuesday, in the gym with Amy as the girl worked on rebuilding her strength and endurance, then as she and Ian shared a tasty conch salad with Boynton, she brought up what she considered a tender subject.
“I want to head over to Miami, to the university; meet with the Dean about January and make sure nothing will interfere from their end.”
Ian’s smile was worth all the angst she’d had about the topic. “I heartily agree. We shall endeavor to keep things clear at this end.”
“I know we will. How about tomorrow? Anything planned?”
He paused a moment before answering. “I would prefer Thursday. Ms Rios reports Flores has taken a hotel room in Fort Lauderdale for the night. She believes he has booked a flight in the morning.”
“Well, I have no interest in running into him. I’ll make an appointment for Thursday.”
“Do you expect a problem?”
She laughed, a short chuckle devoid of humor. “No, Maurice. But even one of my tender years learns when the lesson’s been beaten in enough.” She stood and captured Ian’s hand in hers. “Com’on. Let’s walk the beach for a few minutes.”
The appointment with the Dean went as Beckie hoped. She would be permitted to return in January with the usual caveats. For her part, Beckie nodded soberly and promised to put maximal effort into attending every class and completing every assignment. Just like last year, she thought. The Dean offered Beckie her best stern smile.
On her return, Beckie was pleased to have Ian to herself, especially when, after her progress report about the meeting with the Dean, he invited her for a different course of education.
“If you can make the time, I would like you to spend a few days with me in Peru working with Barbara and her team. It will give you background in how to organize and run this type of job.”
Her happiness grew as the night went on.
Arrangements took until the next afternoon; Beckie was neither surprised nor pleased when Mathilde again scheduled a two AM departure. Neither she nor Ian were happy about Barbara requesting Millie: “Sue wants her help dealing with a funny bug some of the locals have been coming down with.”
“Better than ‘lead poisoning,’” Millie reminded them.
The first two days they spent as Mamani’s guests, acclimatizing to the almost
thirteen thousand foot altitude and getting a better sense of the possible security problems Barbara had identified. None seemed insurmountable.
Ian split Beckie’s training between Barbara describing their proposal for Mamani’s security, and Rich explaining how they’d integrated Willie and Sue’s field observations. Beckie told Ian Wednesday evening, “It’s kinda like being back in school. High school,” she emended. When he chuckled and asked why, “There’s not much room for originality; everything’s kinda by the numbers, if you know what I mean.” She paused, snuggling close. “That’s not bad; people have been doing this a while, and they know what works and what doesn’t. The trick will be to remember it. I hope I can learn by example, so when I experience it, it’ll be familiar.”
“Indeed.”
On the Sunday, Mamani had invited them, and Barbara, too, for an early dinner in Arequipa, since she had meetings planned there and in Lima that week, and Beckie planned to follow Willie into the undercover work he’d taken up from Abby. That would also be in Arequipa, so the arrangement made sense. Before sending her off with Willie, Ian told her the rapport she was building with Mamani might serve them well.
Willie decided disguise and being unobtrusive would form the basis of Beckie’s lessons. Monday was disguise. He sent her out on Tuesday to do nothing but observe. Wednesday, her instructions were to disappear in the crowds where Ian and Barbara were working and track them. “True,” he’d said, “they won’t be looking for you, but…”
He admitted she’d done him one better when they met for dinner. She’d spent three hours on his assignment, but then scampered through a restroom with multiple exits and gleefully trailed him.
“I’m not happy about that,” he said once she’d regaled him with a report of his own movements. His smile gave the lie to his words.