A Corpse for Cuamantla

by Harol Marshall

  Pedro's killer might have gone inside the school and accosted Pedro from inside a classroom. Anna's video caught a number of faces, and Cortez ran through the video again wishing Miguel were here to help identify people. Every couple of seconds he stopped the video, glanced over the crowds and added to his list. Many he realized, would attend Pedro's funeral in Zocatlo. If Francisco were innocent as Cortez suspected, then his fears for Anna were real. He could only hope Miguel was as innocent as he assumed him to be.

  Cortez tucked the file into his briefcase. Before returning upstairs, he stopped by Agent Morelos' office to inquire about AFI's ongoing investigation into local black market activities. He wondered who was leading the inquiry. Returning to his office, he placed a call to an AFI friend and obtained a most interesting piece of information relating to Belén. Cortez hung up the phone, grabbed his jacket off the chair and told his visitors he was ready for the drive back to Cuamantla.

  Commander Cortez held the door open for his guests. "After you, Francisco," he said. The three men followed Cortez down the hall and out the back door of the building. "I'll need to make a short detour on our trip back to Cuamantla," he said, "but it shouldn't take too long." No returning here tonight, he thought, checking his watch before leaving for what he hoped would be a more profitable trip to Cuamantla, one that included a short stop in Belén.

  Chapter 49

  Bustling sidewalks and congested streets greeted the car carrying Anna and the teachers into the village of San Juan Zocatlo. Juan guided María's red VW through the crowded conditions, weaving in and around traffic with the expertise of a local cab driver. A somber mood had settled over the car's occupants.

  Anna broke the silence, "You seem to know your way around this town, Juan."

  "Yes, Maestra, I've visited here many times. It's my namesake city," he joked.

  The startled look on María's face caught Anna by surprise and she immediately regretted commenting about Juan‘s knowledge of the city. She wondered if his trips to Zocatlo had anything to do with Pedro. Anna wanted Juan's relationship with María to become permanent, something they both needed, and she hoped nothing would turn up to spoil what seemed to be going so well. Maybe she would learn more in a later conversation with María, not something she would pursue at the moment.

  The attractive town square surpassed the Tlaxcala zócalo, with its tall trees and colorful bushes. A traditional gazebo similar to the one in Tlaxcala sheltered a local Mariachi band.

  "Zocatlo reminds me of a miniaturized Tlaxcala, only greener and even prettier," Anna said, artlessly trying to change the subject. "So many flowers. I haven't seen floral displays to rival these, even in Tlaxcala."

  Miguel agreed. "Yes, Maestra, this little village is indeed beautiful." He turned to Juan, "Maestro, once we check into the hotel, how about finding us a good place to eat? I for one am hungrier than a muzzled dog."

  "Sounds good to me," María said breaking her long silence. "How many choices do we have? I'm not sure my stomach will tolerate many jalapeños today."

  "There are three hotels, each with a restaurant," Juan said, ‘but only one good choice and I'm headed there now. The Hotel Zocatlo right over there." He pointed diagonally across the square to a bright persimmon building anchoring the prettiest corner of the zócalo.

  Anna's spirits rose thinking about a real hotel room and a shower with hot running water rather than the slightly warm drizzle of her shower in Belén. In the Belén house, a long line of black plastic PVC pipe wound along the sun-drenched rooftop, which provided the main source of heated water boosted only slightly by the electrically heated showerhead. Anna never understood why Art refused to install a hot water heater. Sometimes he was just cheap, or maybe it was one of his feeble attempts at being green.

  Thinking about Art made her realize she should try to call him before the day was out and let him know where she was. He hadn't contacted her about his progress on the document theft, but dealing with the bureaucracy in Tlaxcala could be painfully slow. Besides, he may have decided to wait and take care of everything when he arrived.

  "I hope they have rooms available," Anna ventured as they neared the hotel. "Should we have called for reservations?"

  "Not a problem, Maestra. They always have rooms," Juan replied with confidence. "This town isn't a big tourist destination though I think it should be." He pulled around the corner and slowed down to park in an open spot close to the front entrance. A uniformed doorman reached for the driver's door, but Juan was out of the car before the man's hand closed around the handle. Juan whispered to the man and handed him a tip before calling back, "let me check on the rooms before you get out." He disappeared through the arched opening leading to the hotel's small lobby, his rising excitement matching Anna's.

  María turned in the seat to look at Anna and raised an eyebrow, "Didn't he tell us they always have rooms?"

  Anna smiled and stayed put, but Miguel got out of the car to stretch his long frame in the bright sunlight letting the women know he put his faith in Juan. In a few minutes, Juan returned looking triumphant.

  "Well," he reported, leaning in the driver's side window, "I have good news and bad news. The hotel has two remaining rooms, that's the good news. However, the rooms join through one bathroom so we four will need to share. I gave them cash and said we would be right in to register. We really have no choice other than traveling to another village. The two other hotels in town are unacceptable. Besides, sharing one bathroom isn't so bad, at least we'll be near each other."

  Almost any accommodation was okay with Anna as long as the bathroom offered a hot shower. "There's a shower, right?" she asked.

  "Sí, Maestra," Juan grinned, "with lots of hot water and plenty of bottles of drinking water as well."

  "Bueno, amigo. You should start your own newspaper," Miguel joked reaching over to hold the car door for María. "You gathered a lot of information in a very short time." The doorman returned and held Anna's door. She grabbed her backpack off the floor and stepped out, gingerly protecting her sore ankle and wondering exactly how this arrangement would work itself out.

  "I thought this hotel was never full, Juan," María teased as they waited for the doorman to retrieve their overnight bags from the trunk.

  "Well, Maestra, I've never been here on the day of a funeral for so important a person as our friend and colleague. Although, I will say I'm surprised by the limited choices."

  María wrinkled her nose at Juan but he failed to notice as he handed the car keys to the doorman who promptly whistled for assistance from a group of young men lounging against the hotel wall. While Anna and the teachers waited, the doorman adjusted the three bags and explained to the young attendant where and how to park the car. He turned to take Anna's bag.

  "Thanks, I'm fine," she said. The doorman gave her a sidewise glance and headed for the hotel. He probably thinks I'm too cheap to tip, she thought, but she had no intention of letting the pack and its precious cargo out of her sight for even a minute. She would surprise him with a tip anyway and ensure proper treatment during her stay.

  The group entered a surprisingly elegant hotel lobby. A long mahogany desk ran along the left side of the reception area, attended by a young woman whose jet-black hair framed a strikingly attractive face. A V-neck blouse and tight fitting gray suit hugged her form, modestly revealing the fact that her good features weren't limited to her face. Her light olive skin matched María's, but her black eyes and engaging smile fixed themselves on Juan. Anna wondered with a sinking feeling whether this young woman might explain Juan's visits to Zocatlo and his self-styled knowledge of the hotel. Without thinking, she glanced over to gauge her friend's reaction, but María's face was unreadable as she reached into her purse to pay for the room.

  "No, Señorita, everything is taken care of," the desk clerk told María as she pulled out her wallet. María gave Juan a questioning look.

  "Not to worry," he explained. "I've taken care of the rooms. My treat."


  "Gracias, Maestro, but that wasn't necessary," Miguel said, leading the protests as everyone entered their names in the hotel register. The desk clerk closed the book and motioned the four to join the doorman waiting astride their three small bags. He pointed to the wide wooden staircase opposite the registration desk.

  Anna caught the young woman's eye following the group as they mounted the stairs, noticing with some surprise that neither Juan nor Miguel paid her the slightest attention. Well, maybe I've got that wrong, she hoped, although the reason behind Juan's frequent visits to this particular village worried her. I need to stop being so suspicious, she thought, chiding herself. Not everything in the world is linked to Pedro, although Pedro himself might have argued otherwise.

  On the second floor they crossed a balcony overlooking the two-story hotel restaurant nearly filled with diners, none of whom Anna recognized. Beyond the restaurant, the hall gave way to a spacious new section of the hotel hidden from the street. The size of the building caused both Anna and María to doubt Juan's assertion that all the rooms were filled at this time of the day in the middle of the week. Nor did either woman revise her assessment when they finally reached their rooms, the last two in the back corner of the second floor.

  With a flourish, the doorman slipped the key into the lock of the corner room allowing Anna and María to enter. He held the door and tossed the other room key to Juan with a knowing wink. María glanced over and rolled her eyes. Once inside, the women tipped the affable attendant as he officiously pointed out the obvious—the bathroom through the open door, the closet, and the view of the zócalo from the corner window. The picture over the bed, he explained, was the work of a local artist and available for purchase through the hotel gift store.

  "The restaurant? Open from 6:00 a.m. to midnight," he said, answering his own questions. "And the food? Muy rico." He held up his left hand, rubbing his fingers together for emphasis.

  Juan and Miguel appeared at the bathroom door, tips in hand, and Anna realized why the canny bellman was chatting on. Miguel placed an arm over the man's shoulder and walked him out of the room, praising his excellent service and assuring him they would call if they needed anything. María sat down in the room's only chair, her bag at her feet. Juan plopped himself on the bed next to her, leaving Anna standing by awkwardly, wondering what to do next.

  Chapter 50

  Compadre," Miguel said, coming into the women's room, "let's give the Maestras time to freshen up before we allow you to lead us to the best restaurant in town. This time the treat is on me. Maestras, knock on the bathroom door when you're finished, and we'll do the same."

  "Good idea," María said. "We may take longer than you expect, though."

  "Not a problem," the men answered, crossing the bathroom and noisily locking the door on their side to sounds of muffled laughter.

  "I don't believe this hotel had only these two rooms available," María whispered. "I know Juan. He wanted connecting rooms in order to be near us, and I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt that it's all he wants. No matter. I hope you don't mind sharing a room with me, Anna. For me, I'll be glad for the company."

  "I agree, María," Anna replied, laughing at Juan's guile. "I'm happy for company myself and much as I hate to admit it, I feel safer with the men next door."

  María nodded. "Why don't you go ahead and use the bathroom first. I need to organize my things."

  "Thanks, I won't be long. I'm starving and Juan's description of the food here has my mouth watering."

  "Yes, Pedro's told me about the food," María replied absently, folding a pair of black slacks over one of the hangers in the open closet. María suggested they dress for the funeral after eating, and Anna agreed, since the 4:30 p.m. funeral was nearly three hours away.

  The women finished their hair and makeup and noisily unlocked the bathroom door. While they waited for the men, Anna walked over to the two windows in their room. The adjoining corner windows provided an unusually clear view of the church on the opposite corner of the zócalo. She noticed a car idling at the end of the front walk. Out of curiosity she retrieved her binoculars, wondering who she might see coming or going from the church when the question was answered by the sight of a woman leaving the Church. She looked familiar, someone Anna never met in person but whom she'd come to know from her video. Yolanda, dressed completely in black, stepped carefully along the entrance pathway. Anna could almost hear her high heels clicking on the cobblestones as she neared the waiting car. The well-dressed driver jumped out when she approached and hurried to open the passenger door.

  Then, with Anna watching from above, the driver glanced around and leaned into the car to kiss Yolanda. Not the light kiss of a brother or cousin Anna noted, stunned at this display in front of the church where in less than three hours, Yolanda would return for her husband's funeral. The man straightened and looked around again certain his actions were unnoticed. He forgot about the view from above, Anna thought, wishing she could have seen his face, but it was hidden by a large cowboy hat. She did notice the man's tan leather jacket and coffee colored slacks, and his cowboy boots glinting in the sunlight, and she noticed his walk and his height, and she noticed the intimacy of that kiss.

  María sat on the bed perusing the hotel tourist information, uninterested in the goings on around the church, earlier telling Anna she would deal with everything when she had to deal with it and not before. Anna decided against telling her about seeing Yolanda since anything about Yolanda would only upset María. At least the incident ruled out the possibility of a relationship between Juan and Yolanda, Anna thought with relief. An absurd knock on the bathroom door signaled the men were ready to leave, and judging by the tenor of their conversation their focus had turned to food.

  "Maestras, here are the choices," Juan said, "we can stay and eat in the hotel or we can go to this little restaurant. The location is close, a short walk."

  "Let's go where we're least likely to be seen," María said.

  "I agree, Maestra. This restaurant is perfect. It's on a side street behind the hotel and away from the zócalo. The food is excellent. You'll be pleased."

  Getting away from the zócalo was a good idea, Anna thought as the four left the room after double-checking the locks on the hotel doors. Walking two by two along the narrow hallway, Juan extolled the merits of the meal they were about to experience.

  "This restaurant," he explained, "specializes in several unique regional dishes including a rich chicken stew made with a local blackberry brandy. ¡Muy rico! Delicious! And," he added, "their mole is sweeter than ours in Tlaxcala thanks to the addition of fruits like plantains, prunes, apples, maybe more, I'm not sure."

  "How did you find this restaurant?" Miguel asked.

  "Well, I should explain," Juan said, to Anna's relief. "My older brother owns a changarro in the city of Vera Cruz. If he needs distributors to supply merchandise for his small grocery store, he sometimes calls on me to help. It's a good arrangement since I can earn extra money and he has someone he trusts to bargain with the locals. That's how I came to know Zocatlo, for its coffee and jalapeños."

  Anna felt embarrassed by her earlier doubts about Juan and resolved again to temper her judgments and rein in her imagination.

  Chapter 51

  As the four headed out of the hotel, Miguel reminded everyone he would be visiting Pedro's parents before the funeral since he expected to serve as Padrino de Parada.

  "I'm afraid I'll have to eat and run," he said. "I couldn't attend last night's vigil and I should spend some time with Pedro's family today as well as meet with the other pallbearers. I'll return to the room to change clothes before grabbing a taxi to Pedro's. If you don't mind, Juan, I can leave our room key on the nightstand in the Maestras' room and unlock the adjoining doors."

  Anna wondered why he hadn't made these arrangements when they were in the hotel room, but the scenery outside the hotel's back entrance diverted her attention. High stucco walls enclosed a broad tiled walkwa
y that curved gently to the left shrouding its termination point. Purple and red blooming bougainvillea covered the walls, their branches arching gracefully over the sidewalk. Anna paused to soak in the sights and smells that almost overwhelmed her senses.

  "It's quite beautiful, yes, Maestra?"

  "It makes me want to stop and breathe it in. Zocatlo is a gorgeous city and this walkway is stunning."

  Miguel looked down at her. "A beautiful place for a beautiful woman," he said, sliding his arm around her waist. Juan and María were well ahead of them. Just as well, Anna decided, because as the pair rounded the bend out of sight, Miguel leaned over and met Anna's lips with a light lingering kiss. This time there was no mistaking what happened, but before she could react, he deftly guided her forward, his arm still around her waist. That was nice, she thought with some surprise. She hadn't minded his kiss and his embrace felt strong and secure, leaving her feeling slightly breathless.

  Miguel's arm dropped down to hold Anna's hand as they approached the bend in the path.

  "We should be careful, Miguel," she cautioned. "This might not be an appropriate time to start rumors."

  "You're right, Maestra, I apologize," he said. "I couldn't help myself, I was overcome with the beauty of the moment."

  "Don't apologize, Miguel. It was a beautiful moment for me, too."

  "You're full of surprises, Maestra. My heart is skipping beats." He smiled down at her, and drummed his fingers along his chest.

  "Miguel, when will you stop using Maestra and call me Anna on a regular basis? At least, in private."

  "From now on, Maes. . ., Anna, I promise" he laughed.