A Corpse for Cuamantla

by Harol Marshall

  Happily for José and José's mother, the priesthood suited his brother who still served his three parishes all within a short bus ride of their boyhood home. José's parents and two other brothers maintained the family lands, which included one of Tlaxcala's famous ganaderías, ranches that raised fighting bulls for the rings of Mexico. Cortez credited his years growing up around the bullring with his love of excitement. The life of a State Police investigator suited his temperament, and at the same time allowed him the chance to help people, the only part of his nature that responded well to the priestly calling.

  Chapter 42

  Commander Cortez arrived at the Sanchez residence, one of the better-kept houses in the village. Francisco's mother greeted him at the door, a nervous woman who invited him into the front room and promptly left to fetch her husband and Francisco from the fields. Cortez paced the sparsely furnished room. He hoped this business wouldn't get sticky and debated whether or not he should call after the woman and interview her alone first. Before he could implement his decision, Francisco's younger sister appeared and announced her mother would return shortly.

  "The Municipal President may be with them as well," she volunteered, glancing shyly at the handsome Commander.

  Cortez smiled back, acknowledging the warning. So, he thought, the situation would be a thorny one. At least he was forewarned. Securing Francisco in the Tlaxcala jail probably wouldn't happen today. He'd be lucky to arrive back in Tlaxcala in time for a decent afternoon meal. While he waited, he and Francisco's sister passed the time with idle chit-chat discussing everything but what occupied them both, the upcoming fate of her brother.

  After nearly twenty minutes, Francisco's mother returned having commandeered half the town. She nervously invited the Commander outside where Francisco, his father, the Municipal President and another barrio official waited, along with several friends and relatives busy assembling folding chairs in the courtyard.

  Arnulfo Sánchez introduced himself first, shaking hands with José. Next, the Municipal President welcomed him to the village of Cuamantla. Cortez shook hands around the courtyard thanking everyone for attending. Francisco, his father and the older men seated themselves around the large rectangular table. Francisco's mother Antonia joined them, while the rest of the women and younger men sat in the outer circle of chairs. Cortez settled in, reminding himself that in situations like this his experience and training in the priesthood always proved beneficial.

  "Is it true, Commander," Arnulfo asked before Cortez could begin, "that you are here to place my son Francisco Matos Sánchez, under arrest for the murder of the much despised Director of the morning school, a man more worthless than a roof dog and a wrecker of families?"

  "I'm here Señor, for the purpose of questioning your son Francisco," Cortez replied courteously, allowing Arnulfo the upper hand for the moment, "about a matter that occurred yesterday morning at the primary school." Cortez knew Arnulfo would lose face soon enough and he wished to soften the blow. His murder investigation would remain in the hands of the State Police independent of the wishes of the Cuamantla village officials.

  Arnulfo was not to be diverted. "You wish to question my son about the much deserved killing of Pedro García, is that correct?"

  "That is correct, Señor."

  At this response, questioning passed to the Municipal President. "Bueno, and may I ask the esteemed Commander, why the State Police are in Cuamantla interfering in local affairs?"

  This Municipal President came to the point more quickly than usual. Cortez bristled at the man's accusatory tone. One would almost conclude I'm the culprit here. I'll need to be patient, he reminded himself.

  Chapter 43

  Over the next hour, Cortez fielded their questions with the deftness of a skilled surgeon, knowing his turn would come eventually. Finally, when no successful arguments remained, he responded with undeserved kindness considering what the villagers had put him through. The family was upset and a wise decision on his part would be to maintain calm before completing the business at hand. He turned first to the Municipal President.

  "I'm sorry you weren't informed earlier of the involvement of the State officials, but events have moved quickly. I wish I could share with you the reason the investigation has fallen into our hands, but I'm not at liberty to divulge that information. Please be assured that I come on good authority. We don't wish to usurp your authority or interfere in village affairs, but only to assist you in apprehending the murderer of your village's school director."

  Arnulfo interrupted, but Cortez signaled he had more to say and continued. "I also want you to know that we have incontrovertible evidence of Francisco's presence at the scene of the crime. I know it's not proof of his guilt, but at the very least he is a witness and may be able to provide us with information about the guilty party. Therefore, it's imperative he accompany me to Tlaxcala for questioning." Cortez paused to collect his thoughts before turning to Francisco. "Son, for your sake and the sake of your family I recommend you cooperate with my investigation."

  Arnulfo broke in before his son could speak. "Commander, let me assure you that my son Francisco is not a murderer. He did not kill the pig of a director. But even if he had, I would defend his innocence. The bastard deserved to die, he was a blight on our village."

  "I understand how you feel and I also know why you feel as you do," Cortez continued quietly, "but the law is not a respecter of persons, and the citizens of our country are not free to take the law into their own hands. The dispensation of justice is the business of the government on behalf of all of its citizens, not the prerogative of individuals acting alone."

  "To beg your pardon, Comandante, that is precisely the point we are trying to make to you," the Municipal President said. "In Cuamantla, we are the government, elected and appointed to serve the people of Cuamantla, and to dispense justice on behalf of the citizens of our municipio, which is what we are asking you to allow us to do."

  Apparently, this President wasn't giving up without a fight. José's patience was his finest virtue in these situations and he extended it in full measure to the Municipal President. "The consequences of the crime in question go beyond your village, and in such instances as we're all aware, the interests of the State take precedence, which grants me jurisdiction. All I ask is that you allow the government its due. Permit me, please, to question Francisco at police headquarters in Tlaxcala. In return, I promise he will be treated fairly. You have my personal word on that. Furthermore, I'm willing that a village official or someone Francisco trusts, accompany him throughout the interrogation period so you can be assured no harm will come to him."

  Perhaps emboldened by this last concession on the Commander's part, Arnulfo pushed one step further. He would agree to Francisco leaving with the Commander, he said, provided both he and a village official be allowed to accompany Francisco to Tlaxcala and remain with him until he was released.

  Relieved that closure seemed near, José agreed, and Francisco, Arnulfo, and the Municipal President rose to leave. Antonia, who had nodded her agreement or disagreement as the previous discussion warranted, now sobbed in earnest clutching onto her son's shirtsleeves as he tried to follow his father. Arnulfo intervened, charging his daughter with the care of her mother until he and Francisco returned home.

  Chapter 44

  The drive from Cuamantla to Tlaxcala passed uneventfully. The Commander's passengers, led by Arnulfo, were awed by his new car with its fancy global positioning system, and spent most of the ride asking technical and personal questions about the vehicle including its price. Some questions Cortez answered, others he politely evaded, a technique he evidently polished to perfection during his stint in the priesthood, Arnulfo decided.

  "How much does a car like this cost?" Arnulfo asked.

  "All depends on how many extras you tack on to the basic vehicle," Cortez responded.

  "And if the car has all the extras of this car, what would the cost run?"

  "Depend
s where you buy it and what you make and model of car you bring to the trade," the Commander replied.

  And so the conversation went. Whatever the Commander paid, Arnulfo thought, the sum was astronomical, a fact he mulled over in his mind. Perhaps, he decided, he would encourage Francisco to think about a career in the State Police. And perhaps he, Arnulfo, could turn this misfortune into an opportunity, ingratiate himself with the Commander so the good Commander might be encouraged to take Francisco under his wing and assist him in obtaining a position with the police. It was just an idea, he thought, but a good one.

  Arnulfo congratulated himself that he was not to be found lacking when it came to good ideas. Implementing them was another story Antonia would say, but not to worry, he would find a way this time. Francisco was a good boy, smart and likeable. He was no murderer or friend of murderers of that his father was certain. Once the Commander understood Francisco's innocence, he would feel sorry for him, sorry he put an innocent boy through such humiliation. The Commander had a kind heart. Arnulfo realized that early on in the day's discussions. He would play on this Commander's heartstrings for all they were worth. Such a nice car. Francisco would look good driving such a car. His mother would be proud, even prouder if Arnulfo himself could make such a thing happen.

  Lost in his private daydream, Arnulfo nearly forgot the reason they were driving to Tlaxcala until Commander Cortez turned into the parking lot behind the State Police station. Pulling into the same parking space he left earlier that morning, Cortez shut off the engine and reached for the door handle. Emerging from his very nice car, he requested his passengers follow him through the forbidding black door at the back entrance to police headquarters. Arnulfo obeyed, stroking the car's smooth finish as he carefully closed the passenger side door.

  Chapter 45

  As the Commander's car disappeared from view, Anna crossed the dirt road to the zócalo feeling alone and a little lost. Entering the square she struggled to understand her own feelings. She hardly knew the Commander, how could his presence or absence impact her emotions so strongly?

  Halfway to the school she solved the riddle and created a new one for herself. The answer was simple and to her scientific mind eminently comprehensible. Her feelings resulted from losing the safety and protection of a State Police officer, which led to a more unsettling realization. She was afraid to travel to Pedro García's funeral in the company of her friends. Acknowledging her fear was easy, understanding it was not. Miguel would be with her, and María, and the other teachers from the two schools. She wouldn't be alone, nothing would happen. Nevertheless, her apprehension intensified as she neared the schoolyard gate.

  Three cars, including María's, were parked in front of the school. Anna checked her watch. Nearly eleven and no one around. Déjà vu all over again. She walked to the school office listening for familiar voices, but only the sound of her shoes echoed along the concrete walk. The office door was closed and locked. She sat on the chair outside the office debating about wandering over to Rosa's for a beer where she expected to find everyone. A beer, even a warm one, might settle her nerves.

  A noise across the courtyard caught her attention and she strained to identify it. She heard the sound again, a muffled cough. Someone was in or near one of the classrooms along the north side of the courtyard. If she moved quietly she could limp quickly out the gate before the cougher knew she was there. She nearly made it.

  "¡Maestra!"

  Anna turned around, weak in the knees. She was entirely too jumpy. "María, you startled me. How are you? I had no idea anyone was here." Still shaky from the adrenaline rush, she called out, "I was heading to Rosa's for a beer."

  María stood in the doorway of her classroom motioning Anna over. Anna cut across the courtyard kicking the sand out of her sandals. "I know, you think I'm crazy," she said as she embraced María, "but you'll never know how glad I am to see you. How are you? I've been worried about you."

  "Better than expected," María said, "come in and sit down. We're the only ones here so we have a chance to talk before everyone returns from Rosa's. I got here early this morning and stopped in the Municipal President's office to report last night's attack on us. He asked a lot of questions, which made me wonder whether my nanny already talked to him."

  "What kind of questions?"

  "Mostly about motives and did I think the attacker was after you or me or the car. I told him I couldn't be certain. He assured me he would get to the bottom of the matter and called in the village Comandante inquiring about a man with a broken arm. By the way, I'm taking my car to Zocatlo, and I hope you'll ride with me. Juan will be driving and there's room for one other person, perhaps Miguel?" She asked the question mischievously, glancing at Anna with a broad grin.

  Anna ignored the inference turning over in her mind María's conversation with the Municipal President, who like her, may have assumed last night's incident was related to the Real Cédula theft. More likely their attacker was the man who murdered Pedro. If so, he wasn't after the car but the contents of her backpack, maybe hoping to silence her as well. It would be a relief to leave Cuamantla and Belén for two days of safety in the company of her friends in some unknown town more than two hours away.

  "Did you sleep at all last night?" she asked María.

  "Not much. Do I look that bad?"

  "No, you look good. I'm surprised to see you smiling, are you sure you're okay?"

  "The truth? I'm not doing well at all," María said, "but no one will know that today but you. I'm relying on medication and mind control. I knew when I saw you at the gate that if I could behave normally with you and not break down, then I could do the same thing when we're in Zocatlo. I practiced on you and it worked. I think I can do it, Anna."

  "Don't worry," Anna soothed, putting her arms around María and giving her a hug, "you'll do fine. I may need your help, too. I'm glad no one's here because I have an unsettling story to tell you."

  Anna paced the room, relating the events of the last sixteen hours. Near the end of her account, she moved over to the window side of María's classroom, leaning on the ledge and describing her morning with Commander Cortez, purposely neglecting to mention his good looks. To her surprise, María said she knew the Commander although the circumstances were not the best.

  "I think it had something to with Pedro's parking tickets," María said. "He's very handsome, or hadn't you noticed?"

  "Yes, I did notice and under different circumstances I might have paid attention." Anna smiled as if they shared a secret. "But, to bring a long story to a close, someone seems to think I know who killed Pedro, or at least that I have incriminating evidence. And that makes me a target, which is why I was so jumpy when you called out to me just now."

  "I'm so sorry to hear about all this, Anna. You don't deserve to be mixed up in these problems."

  "Perhaps we can look out for each other over the next two days."

  "I agree."

  Shouts from outside the courtyard interrupted their conversation and María stepped out of the classroom to investigate.

  "¡Hola, Maestras! Are you there? Are you ready to leave?" The men's shouts accompanied the clanking of the school gate.

  "We're over here," María said, "waiting for you."

  Moving away from the window Anna scuffed up a coin-sized disk. A quick glance suggested the shiny metal object was some type of silver jewelry. She tucked the piece in her pocket intending to place it in the school's lost and found box. As she stood from picking up the disk, her gaze fell on the stained, irregular circle of trampled ground not more than five feet from María's classroom window, the spot where Pedro died.

  Her heart pounded as she tried the window. It opened easily and quietly and she noticed something else. A person could stand where Pedro died and never really notice a potential killer inside the classroom, that is, if the killer stood to the right behind three tangled climbing rose bushes covering the corner window.

  Alarming possibilities raced thro
ugh Anna's brain. Should she pass along this information to the Commander? Pedro's murderer might have been inside the school rather than outside in the rose garden and maybe this piece of jewelry belonged to him or her. If so, maybe a witness existed who perhaps feared coming forward.

  A second troubling thought occurred to her. María was inside the school throughout the parade. What if Francisco and his friends weren't guilty? What if Anna told the Commander about her new knowledge and he began to suspect María? She would think long and hard about what she told Commander Cortez when she saw him again.

  Chapter 46

  Anna?" María's voice filtered into Anna's consciousness. She needed to think quickly or María might think she was snooping, might wonder if she was conducting her own independent investigation of Pedro's murder, not that she hadn't thought about it. "Is someone out there?"

  "No," Anna said. "I was about to pick one of the roses. Would anyone mind?"

  "Of course not," María said as Juan and Miguel entered the classroom. "Pick one for me, too, will you? A white one that I'll take to Pedro. Red roses for love, white for good-bye." Anna felt rather than saw María's tears through the dark glasses.

  Anna picked two roses and latched the window. What was María doing when Pedro died, she wondered, and would others wonder the same thing? She believed in María's innocence but others might not be so generous especially in Cuamantla. For the time being she would share this information with no one, not even Miguel, and especially not with Commander Cortez who, if their morning conversation provided any indication would arrest his own mother if the evidence warranted. Anna wanted a chance to talk privately with María, perhaps later tonight in the hotel in Zocatlo. She turned around and handed the white rose to María, then stooped to pick up her backpack when Miguel approached.