“Okay, it’s first on the agenda, right after breakfast. What do you want to do about breakfast this morning?”
“I saw a little café on the corner across from the Jardin last night. We could try it. Then I could get a copy of the local paper Steve told me about. Supposedly it tells us everything we need to know about what’s going on here.”
“Well, I’m starved. Let’s go.”
The sun was bright and the day was warm already, so by mutual consent they strolled on the shady side of the street. They had learned last night going to Mama Mia’s that the altitude, combined with streets leading uphill to the Jardin, as well as the narrow sidewalks and cobblestone streets made brisk walking impossible. They wandered along glancing into the stores which were already open, watching the citizens of town going about their everyday business. Claire realized that even though they were vacationing, the citizens of San Miguel were not.
It turned out the little corner café, with its wall of French doors open to additional table and chairs sitting on the arcade, was a popular spot for breakfast. Jack and Claire stood in a little cluster of customers waiting for vacant tables, discreetly scanning the diners to see who was almost done, and checking out the contents of the laden plates being served. When they sat down Jack was pleased to find the coffee was excellent which probably had a lot to do with the popularity of the place. They even served cappuccinos and lattes. That’s what Claire ordered; a frothy latte, a plate of fruit and a generous basket of fresh warm rolls. Jack was getting his appetite back and was able to put away an order of French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon and fresh orange juice.
“If you’re going to eat like this every morning we’re going to need a load of groceries. Should we make a list?”
“No, let’s just pick up what we see. We won’t forget the coffee, and we might want to get some limes and Tequila. I liked having cocktails on the patio yesterday. Where should we shop, that big store on Teddy’s list?”
After Jack settled the bill, they paused to look over the arcade. Already the flower vendors were setting up their displays of brilliant flowers. The Indian woman closest to the corner was directing her children as they quickly emptied the back of a battered station wagon and carried the buckets of water and the flowers to her portion of the arcade. It was amazing how the little stand was put together and functional in minutes. Claire, sorely tempted to buy some flowers, refrained, the thought of carrying them with her all day was too daunting. Reluctantly she left the flowers and followed Jack across into the park where he located the paper man, purchased a copy of the Atencion, the weekly English language paper, and found enough space on one of the benches for them to sit while he glanced through his paper.
Claire sat next to Jack, content to watch the activity around her. The Jardin was a block square with an ornate bandstand in the middle. The paths branched out from the bandstand, lined with benches for people to sit, shaded by the strange trees. The trees were old, the trunks twisted, the thick leaves had been trimmed in large box-like shapes. A few fountains were interspersed amongst the paths and while the park was level with the plaza in front of the church at the opposite end, it was necessary to take about ten steps down to reach the street. The Jardin was filled with people this time of the day. Many of the local people were just cutting through it on their way to work. Some people were strolling, nodding to acquaintances, stopping to speak to others. Already most of the benches at the end of the park facing the church were filled.
A woman who had sat down beside Claire started a conversation with her. She was a retired school teacher. She said she and her husband had moved to San Miguel from Toronto five years ago. She explained there were probably as many Canadians living in San Miguel as Americans. And many prominent Mexican families had holiday homes in San Miguel. She pointed to a middle-aged Mexican woman dressed in a light blue uniform-like dress, pushing a stroller and herding three small children. “That one is a nanny taking the children for fresh air. You will see many of them in the park.”
In response to Claire’s question about shopping for groceries, she recommended the Gigantic and told her which number bus went to the market and where to catch it. Then she saw the friend she had been waiting for and hurried off to catch up with her.
It was very pleasant in the park. Claire could see how easy it was to just sit for very long periods of time watching the mini dramas of daily life being played out around you. She saw several more children, many were with their nannies, and some were with their parents. One couple with two children was obviously on holiday, and they spent a very long time deliberating over which inflated toy to pick from the huge bouquet attached to a long stick resting over the shoulder of the toy vendor. Then Claire’s attention drifted to a bench next to where she sat, where a couple joined a woman and loudly carried on a conversation about a mutual acquaintance. Meanwhile, across the path the woman and man who apparently owned one of the refreshment stands began preparing it to open for business. Customers were lining up for cold drinks before they could even get everything ready. She was startled to see one of the customers headed their way after obtaining his drink and she frantically tried to remember his name.
“Oh hello. Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Xavier, it finally came to her. She smiled up at him. “Isn’t it. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk last night, but we certainly enjoyed the evening.” She nudged Jack saying, “Jack, you remember meeting Xavier last night, don’t you?”
Jack got the hint; he stood and held out his hand. “Of course, you were with Monica, the artist, weren’t you?”
Xavier nodded and took a thirsty drink from his soda. “Excuse me, but I’m parched. I just finished my walk and I always have to buy a drink here to sustain me until I can get home.” He quickly finished his drink and waved good-by. “I’m sure I’ll see you again. San Miguel is a very small community and if you hang out in the Jardin you’ll see everyone you know eventually. Although, I’ll probably see you at Teddy’s party tomorrow, won’t I?”
“Probably, it sounds like the place to be on Thursday.”
“Believe me; you don’t want to miss it. Have a nice day.” He smiled and moved on leaving Claire to watch a toddler determinedly pursuing the strutting pigeons and Jack to finish his paper.
But finally Jack had enough of the paper, so they left to do their shopping. They agreed to take a taxi, because the thought of riding a bus seemed a little more of an adventure than they wanted to face for today.
The Gigantic was similar to any big grocery chain in the States, except most of the labels were in Spanish and there didn’t seem to be as large a selection of some products as they were used to having.
They had carefully looked at the poultry, meat and fish, but Claire admitted she was reluctant to buy any.
“Well, you hear all those stories about contamination and Montezuma’s Revenge.” She defended herself on seeing the humorous glint in Jack’s eye.
“We’re going to cook it. I’m sure it’s all safe.”
“Well, let’s not, I’d rather go out to dinner. Teddy gave us that whole list of places and really there’s not much else to do in the evenings, but drink in one of the clubs or sit in the park.”
Still, by the time they finished at the checkout counter they found they had filled a half dozen bags with groceries. And when the taxi dropped them off outside their door it took them a while to unpack everything and put it all away.
“I see Helen Marie has been and gone,” Claire commented, noticing the dishes in the sink had been washed and put away. “It’s nice; kind of like having the elves come at night and finish your work for you, like a fairytale about the shoemaker my mother used to read to me.”
Jack sitting at the table had torn open one of the bags of chips and was helping himself. “What’s next?”
Claire sat down across from him and took a couple of chips to munch on. “Well, if you feel up to it, I’d like to explore a little. Also, I wonder if we shoul
dn’t call this Raphael that Teddy told us about. He may be busy and, if he’s not available, we may need to find someone else to drive us, because I’d really like to visit Guanajuato and Delores Hidalgo. They sounded very interesting in the book we read.”
“Good idea. Do you want me to call?”
“Would you? In case he doesn’t speak English.”
“Okay, where’s the number and when would be a good day?”
“Well, tomorrow is Teddy and Jeff’s party, so not then. Sunday we want to go on the Home Tour, don’t we? Friday would be good. Or maybe Monday? And I put all that stuff from Teddy on the coffee table in the living room.”
* * *
“We’re here. But I can’t talk until I’ve showered and eaten. It’s been a long trip.”
Her uncle smiled fondly. Even at thirty-three, she still reminded him of the child she was. “Go ahead, I’ll tell Carmen to fix you something to eat. While you’re getting cleaned up, I’ll go out and check on the off-loading.”
When he returned she was sitting at the table on the patio, in the shade of the frothy, lavender jacaranda tree, greedily consuming the plate of food, piled high, which Carmen had magically provided.
“So, did everything go well? No trouble at the border?”
She snorted with derision. “It’s always easy coming in. But you should have seen the line waiting to go out. They were searching with their dogs again. They must find things, but you’d think smugglers would be smarter than to try.”
He shrugged. “It’s a gamble. They don’t search every vehicle, so I suppose they always hope they will be the one not searched.” Then, changing the subject abruptly, “So tell me about your meeting.”
“Didn’t George tell you?”
“Of course, but he wasn’t sitting at the table with you. He doesn’t have the same perspective. I want to know how you saw it.”
Kathleen was happy to tell him all about it; she was always looking for his approval. She told him how Manny had been surprised to find she was a woman. And although he listened to her, had even seemed interested in her proposal, all the time she felt he was patronizing her. She expected him to try something so she had instructed George and Gary to wait in the car on Westheimer and make sure no one followed her. She wasn’t taking any chances on someone locating their factory and helping themselves to the product they had finished.
And she had been right to be concerned.
She admitted her flash of anger triggered her order to eliminate her followers. It had been instinctive, but as soon as she issued the order she realized it was the perfect counter-action to Manny’s decision to send someone after her. It was so bold and daring he had to pay attention. Now he would have to understand she was a person to be reckoned with. He would be very careful dealing with her in the future. He might even come to respect her business acumen.
Her uncle nodded gravely. “I think you were right. George told me he was concerned at first, but soon realized it was a brilliant move.”
“He said that? Brilliant?” She was pleased.
He nodded. “George is good at this business and appreciates good strategy. He was a little nervous at first when I put you in charge. Of course, he doesn’t know you like I do. But you’ve convinced him.”
She felt a glow of satisfaction. George had been her uncle’s key man since he broke off from the Irish Republican Army all those years ago. George’s respect meant a lot to her.
But of course, most important was her uncle’s respect. She knew she had his love. In all those years since that terrible Sunday afternoon, she had worked for one thing only, to pay the English back. She had a university degree in business because her uncle told her they needed to make and manage money to fund their quest. And when she spent those years in the guerrilla war camp where he had sent her, she had to stay focused to survive. Actually, in spite of her sex, her size and her strength she did more than survive, she excelled; and only she knew how much it had cost her. That was when she had jettisoned her last visage of softness, her basic instinct for good, in order to become a cold calculating killer.
“The truck has been emptied and Carlos has gone on to visit his family for a few days. I’m expecting the load to be ready to return to Texas on Monday. Are you thinking you’ll drive back with Carlos?”
“I thought I would. That way I can make sure it gets there safely. Why? Do you have other plans?”
“Well, I can use your help. I have this little problem. Well, maybe it’s a problem, maybe not.”
She looked at him seriously, ready to do whatever he needed.
He told her about his dinner last night.
“But I don’t understand who these people are? Why are they so dangerous?”
“Ah, I forgot, you were still in the jungle then. I went underground in the year two thousand. I had contracted with this rich American businessman to commit an act of terrorism for a hefty fee.” He sat back, a grim smile on his face. “It was a daring plan, but one I was sure would work. It was perfect. He was paying me for something that would, in fact, further my own cause.
“Anyway, the plan proceeded beautifully. I was on site, in disguise of course, and able to resolve any problems as they came up. But the real problem was this Claire Gulliver. She looks like an ordinary person, but she’s a nosy, tenacious nuisance. And in the end, it was her meddling, her interference that caused the plan to fail.”
Kathleen shook her head in disbelief, she never knew of one of her uncle’s plans to fail.
“And, in fact, the authorities were waiting for me when I landed in Florida on my way to my safe house.” He shuddered, just the memory of those hands clamped on his arms as he was marched along the corridor at the Florida airport was enough to make him nauseous. “Fortunately, George realized while I was still in the air that the scheme had failed and made the correct assumption I was in jeopardy. He organized a very effective counter-action to liberate me from the clutches of the authorities.
“So now, thanks to Claire Gulliver, I have finally been identified. My photo is in their archives. My DNA has been recorded as my fingerprints have been. I can no longer move about my business cloaked in secrecy. And Claire Gulliver is the person I have to thank for that complication.”
“The Bitch! Why don’t you just eliminate her? Simple, fast and totally justified.” Kathleen was all for taking immediate action.
“Whoa, not so simple. You’ve heard the expression, ‘Don’t soil your own nest,’ or whatever. I need to be very careful not to draw attention to myself or San Miguel. Besides, it’s not so easy.
“This American businessman who hired me tried to do that very thing later that same year. Somehow, she always seemed to elude the assassin he hired. He finally became so frustrated at his failure to eliminate her and his original target that he insisted we build him a devise to blow up a very large motor yacht. I understand he took Miss Gulliver on that cruise along with his target, but when Miss Gulliver and his target returned, he and the large motor yacht were never seen again.”
“You’re kidding! Is she some kind of secret agent?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think she’s anything more than what she claims to be, a former-librarian-turned-travel-bookshop-owner. But she is very lucky, or perhaps intuitive is a better word for her. And she has friends. This man she’s with, for instance, we know he is with the CIA. Why he seems to show up when she does is anybody’s guess. Why they’re here in San Miguel is a mystery.”
“I’m assuming she doesn’t have a clue about who you are. She didn’t recognize you from your former encounter?”
He actually chuckled. “No way, I was a totally different person then. And I don’t intend to give her any hints to help her connect me to that time.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I talked it over with George last night and told him I’d watch carefully. If necessary I’ll eliminate them, but hopefully, they will just get on with their vacation and go home, no wiser.”
/> “What can I do?” she offered simply, remembering his request for her help.
“Well, I need to keep an eye on them and find out why they’re here and at the same time I want to keep a low profile. I thought maybe you could cozy up to them and see what you could learn. You’re good at that.”
“Of course, how do I meet them?”
“Teddy and Jeff are having their big party tomorrow night and I saw Teddy give her an invitation so I’m certain they will be there. I can’t afford to be absent, but I think I can avoid being close to them, you know what a mob it will be. Teddy will be thrilled if you show up; you know how he loves you. So I thought you could work your wiles on them and see what you can discover.”
“That hardly sounds like a difficult task.”
He frowned at her. “Don’t be lulled into thinking they are ordinary people. I assure you they are very astute and they either have physic powers or they are damn lucky.”
She nodded soberly, but she didn’t really think it would be difficult finding out just why they came to San Miguel at this precise time.
* * *
Manny welcomed the interruption of the discrete knock on the door. It delayed for a while his scrutiny of the financials prepared by his staff. He had already seen from the graphs on the top page that profits were down and the supporting documents were only going to give the sorry details.
Phil opened the door and gestured Dr. Nose into the study Manny used for his office. Dr. Nose was the odd fellow, but brilliant chemist, who was in charge of preparing the cocaine Manny brought into the Houston area for distribution on the streets. Dr. Nose wasn’t his actual name, but somehow it seemed so right that now most people only knew him by that name.
“Well, what did you find?”
Dr. Nose handed him a sheaf of papers covered with numbers. He was nervous, but Manny was used to that as many of his people were nervous in his presence.
“I don’t want to read all this, tell me what it says.” He was impatient.
Dr. Nose gulped, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. “It’s incredibly pure. It’s the best we’ve seen in several years. We could cut it easily by three and still exceed the quality of the product we’ve been selling. Actually, I’m thinking we can cut it by four.” Then hopefully, “Will we be getting more?”
Malice in Mexico Page 5