by AJ Adams
“You didn’t have me.”
I know. But I couldn’t resist.
Arturo was thinking. Then he shrugged and smiled as if at a private joke. “I’ve got a couple of points in businesses here and there, but we’re sole proprietors of some properties in Boys’ Zone downtown. A couple of bars, a small brothel and a pole dancing joint. Want to take that over?”
“Yes.”
“Just like that?”
This was something I’d been thinking about. “Arturo, I think women should be allowed to sell themselves if they want, but I don’t like pimps.”
“Nobody likes those fuckers.”
“You don’t pay any attention to that part of the business, so it’s left to people you don’t know well.”
Arturo looked slightly guilty. “I know. It’s good money but not stellar.”
“So I hear. Chumillo says you all start there and then move on to bigger, better things.”
“Kind of. I started at the top, with distribution, and Kyle has always been security, but for most of us, yes, it’s the bottom rung of the ladder.”
“And the scum that lack the wit to move up are left in charge after you move on,” I pointed out the obvious calmly. “So I would like to restructure that part of the business.”
“I don’t know exactly what we have going in Boys’ Zone or what we’re making, but Mateo should have a list by now.”
“By now? You’ve been thinking about this?”
“From the moment you took up Jesus’s challenge.”
Typical Arturo. I should have known he’d be two steps ahead of me. He’d watched, and if I’d mucked it up, he would have sidelined me. As it was, he handed me a career. Just as well that I’d been planning, too. “There’s a producer in LA who’s dying to make some decent films, both for the regular porn market and for the couples market. You have a couple dozen of girls on the books who’ve done some films, and you own a part of a studio in Tijuana. I think I can put together a team with the right talent and know-how.”
Arturo was laughing. “Talk to Rafa, Chumillo and Mateo and give me a proposal next week.”
I felt a zing of anticipation at the thought of the work ahead. Arturo knew it too by the way he was grinning at me. “What are you doing today, Arturo?”
“Kyle’s updating the security system. We’re integrating the facial recognition software database with the surveillance system on the gate. He says it should take an hour.”
“All day then?”
“Probably, you know how it is. Frankly, I’m not sold on the concept. Nothing beats a man who knows the trusted faces and who shoots everyone else. The more you rely on automation, the easier it is to bypass.”
“Both is safer still. Especially if you run enough surprise inspections and fake attacks so everyone stays on their toes.”
Arturo twitched. Security always put him on edge, reminding him of the daily dangers we all faced. “You’re sure you want this life, sirena?”
“Yes.” I didn’t even need to think. I put my hand in his. “When I first agreed to live with you, I was worried because I thought I would see paradise and not be allowed to stay. Now I’m in heaven, Arturo. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”
He was silent a moment and I saw that soft light in his eyes. Then he grinned. “Wait a minute! ‘Happiest you’ve ever been?’ You only remember that last two months!”
Arturo can be awfully mushy, but he’s got a good sense of fun, so we started the day with a laugh. In fact, everything was perfect that morning. First my girls came bouncing round, all excited at the thought of money and security to come.
“It’s going to be hard work,” I warned them. “But in a year or so we’ll be looking for managers, and you ladies will be my first stop.”
That had them pumped, and they went off giggling.
Rafa turned out to be a pushover. “I knew the writing was on the wall when you told Chumillo he wasn’t going to get his hand in the cookie jar,” he sighed. “I don’t mind handing you all the new business, but I’m not sure about transforming the existing clubs. Not only will we get a tonne of shit from the men running them, but there will be redundancies. There are quite a few who have no other income.”
“They won’t be put on the street, but they’ll have to work for a living instead of living off others. It’s just a question of retraining.”
“Yup, they’ll be kicking and screaming,” Rafa said cheerfully.
“Then maybe we should set up a cancan club. A tranny show might get a lot of interest.”
We talked strategy for a while and decided to shelve the conversation until I got the proper figures from Mateo.
“He’ll be your best ally,” Rafa suggested. “Mateo loathes pimps.”
That explained why Mateo had suddenly turned friendly. He’d been stand-offish at first, still sulking from my calling him a bastard, even though I didn’t remember and had apologised, but ever since I started training my girls, he’d been quite different. Still sulky because Mateo is thinner-skinned than the princess who had all that trouble with the pea, but at least he tried to smile and be nice.
“By the way, where is Mateo?” He hadn’t turned up yet, which was odd. Mateo was away most of the time, checking books for Arturo, but he never missed a breakfast when he was home. He’d come early and leave last, saying that someone always needed figures but I could see he just liked being in the centre of things. I knew he felt left out but he was so difficult to get on with that it was hard to feel sorry for him.
“He’s in town, checking out some properties,” Rafa replied.
“I’ll have a chat with him when he turns up and catch you later.”
“Tell me tomorrow, after the party. And by the way, congratulations.” Rafa smiled when he saw my surprise. “Arturo told me in confidence. He’s so happy he can’t keep it to himself.”
I glanced at Arturo, who was deep in conversation with Bill, one of his many cousins and the new distribution manager at his tortilla factory outside Nuevo Laredo. Bill was enthusiastic, but his management skills were still green, and he was making too many mistakes.
“There are ambiguities in the chain of command as well as some confusion about responsibility, so I will be making some changes to our organisational structure,” Arturo said.
Bill looked blank. “Right boss. No problem.”
Arturo translated swiftly. “You’re fucking up. You’re getting a new job spec.”
“Yes, boss.”
“I want you to go to Miami for a month. Work with Stephanie, get some practical experience, and then come back and see me, okay?”
Bill went off, and Arturo was onto the next job: organising new factories near the new water plant he owned a share of.
Then Kyle appeared, and I got a bear hug. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thanks. I think Arturo is keeping it quiet till tonight.”
Kyle showed me his phone. There were over a dozen messages from various cousins, all telling him the news.
I had to laugh. “It’s a wonder we keep any secrets.”
“I’ve wondered the same. Often.”
Arturo got up. “Kyle, Solitaire, join me in the office a sec?”
When we got there, Arturo opened the secure room. “Kyle, I want Solitaire to have access.”
“Sure thing.”
Kyle wasn’t surprised, but you could have knocked me over with a feather. I stood staring at Arturo like a halfwit. “Me? You want me to have access to the golden goose?”
Arturo laughed. “Great name! Yes, I do.”
“But Arturo, are you sure?”
He smiled and took my hands. “Sirena, you’re going to be my wife. And more than that, you’ll soon be running part of our business.”
Kyle guffawed. “Already? She’s accepting the position?”
“Yes, you owe me a bottle of tequila.”
“You two made a bet?”
“A week ago,” Arturo told me.
Kyle was g
rinning. “This is one bet I don’t mind losing. I thought it would take you longer to get Rafa and Chumillo on board. I bet it would take a month. Arturo bet two weeks.” He was examining me carefully. “Are you upset?”
“Gift me with some more of that Denver Dry, and you can make all the bets you like.”
Kyle nodded and went to work. He and Arturo punched in their access codes, had my retina and palm prints scanned and recorded, and then I had to choose my own codeword.
“Don’t choose something obvious like your nickname,” Kyle warned me.
“I know, random letters and numbers.” Then, for some unknown reason, I typed in ‘s0ngb1rd’. I looked at it in horror, blinked, and then I had a flash of being in that cage again. It upset me, and I instinctively assumed my poker face.
“You okay?” Arturo, his senses totally attuned to mine, was looking at me.
“Absolutely.” It came out before I could think, and the smile was automatic, too.
Arturo hesitated, and then he smiled. “You’re in for it now, sirena. This is a lifelong commitment.”
He was so close that I just leaned into him. He felt so good that I relaxed. I’d picked the word because Songbird had been in my mind, I told myself. It didn’t mean anything.
Kyle shut down and rebooted the system. “Have a random look through the files, just to make sure you’ve got full access, while we hook up the new system.”
I did, refusing to admit even to myself that the password felt weird. I started with my own name and saw with surprise that my file had been added to. Everything Miguel had mentioned had been checked out and verified by third and fourth parties. As Arturo had said, it wasn’t much. There was a list of places I’d been to with Miguel and a little bit more about my time in Amsterdam, but the rest was very sketchy. Since I’d left England, there were gaps lasting six to eight months as well as one gap lasting a year. I really had covered my tracks well.
What was interesting were the photos. There was one of me topless and holding an emery board; I guessed that was taken in Holland. There were also pictures of Miguel and me in a bar with shelves filled with bottles of Dutch gin.
“Molenaar in Amsterdam sent them,” Arturo was peering over my shoulder. “It’s just promo stuff and a list of your KPIs from when you worked for him. Nothing very exciting.”
I knew he was right but as always anything to do with my past creeped me out, so I was grateful when my phone beeped. “Mateo just arrived.”
“All right.” Arturo kissed me. “See you at lunch.”
Mateo looked sulky as he so often did, but he gave me a hug. “Congratulations!”
“Arturo called you?”
“He texted. So did Rafa.”
“Then I guess you know the other news, too.”
“Yes.” He opened his laptop. “You haven’t been to La Zona yet, the red light district the Yankees call Boys’ Zone. We should take a look as part of your orientation.”
“Yes. I’ll ask Quique to set it up.” I suddenly realised I’d need to talk to him about the changes, too. If I went to talk to the girls at the clubs, it would put more pressure on security.
“I can take you right now.”
Right, like five foot five Mateo with the strength of a strand of overcooked spaghetti could double as a bodyguard. Arturo would have kittens. “Best wait.”
“But – oh never mind.” Mateo looked sulky again. “Let me know when you want to go, and I’ll come with you.” He started tapping at the keyboard. “I’ve got the files here. What do you want to start with?”
We were deep in discussion when Eva came to find me. “Jefa, there’s a girl asking to see you. She begs for five minutes. Something about the foundation.”
This wasn’t the first time someone had come knocking, and as Eva turned away loons and drunks meticulously, I trusted her judgement. “Send her in, Eva.”
This time, though, Eva had made a mistake. The girl came sidling in, looking nervous but defiant. “You are her?” she asked. “You are Solitaire?”
I saw that Mateo had frozen. He was shocked, not frightened. There was no danger here.
“I am. How can I help you?”
“I am Catalina.” She stared at me defiantly. “Well?” She was just a child, seventeen or eighteen maybe, but pugnacious.
“Well, what?”
“I am Gina Garcia Ortega’s sister!”
It took me a second, and then I realised Gina must have been one of Arturo’s girls. “I see. Shouldn’t you be seeing Arturo?”
I was on autopilot, thinking it odd that she hadn’t called him directly. Arturo was generous to his old lovers, and I suspected this girl wanted a handout or some other kind of help.
“She’s dead!”
“I’m so sorry.”
“He killed her!” She was screaming at me. “He murdered her! He threw her into the sea! Sharks tore her apart! My sister! He murdered my sister!”
I could feel all the air drain from my lungs. My body shrank from her rage, and I felt sick and faint. Spots danced before my eyes, and cold sweat ran down my back. Even my fingers were curling in horror.
Mateo sat in front of me, glued to his chair.
Then Arturo walked in. “Catalina,” he said quietly. “Come on.”
He just touched her shoulder with a fingertip but she collapsed, falling to the floor, and clutching his knees. Arturo winced but he spoke gently. “Come on, chica. Come with me.”
“I don’t care if you kill me!” Catalina wept. But we could all see that she was shaking in fear.
“Nobody is killing anyone.”
I finally got it together. I got up. “We’ll go and have some tea.”
Arturo shook his head. “I have to deal with this. This is on me.” He sounded sad, so sad, that I knew it was all true. Arturo had killed his lover. I told myself that there must be circumstances that explained it, but even so, the knowledge rocked me. I remembered London again and then resolutely pushed it away. Arturo didn’t just love me, he trusted me. Even so, as Arturo led Catalina away, I became aware my happiness had evaporated.
Mateo finally stirred. “Are you all right?”
“I should know who I am.” The words came out of nowhere. “If I don’t know who I am, how can he trust me?”
Now it was out there I wondered why I’d said it, but I knew it was true. The image of that cage haunted me. Something about it screamed danger, but I had no idea why. I tried reaching for it, but the image slipped maddeningly away as I felt for it.
Mateo spoke quietly. “You’re worried about something? Something you remember?”
I shut my eyes. “No. Yes. I don’t know.”
“Something about Songbird?”
Instantly I felt defensive. “I don’t know what you mean!”
Mateo shrugged. “Have it your way.” He gathered up his laptop. “I’ll get the rest of those projections to you in a day or so.”
“You’re not telling me about Gina?”
Mateo frowned. “You really want to know?”
I remembered I now had access to the golden goose. “No, I guess I’ll just check the files.”
“He gave you access?” Mateo was open-mouthed. “Seriously?”
My head was beginning to pound. I wanted to get rid of him. “Mateo, I’ll see you tonight, at the party.”
He smiled. “I’d like that. Thanks.”
It was too late to remember that this was not a business but a family party, and that Julia and Loli couldn’t stand him. He looked so happy to be invited that I couldn’t take it back. I decided I’d deal with it later. I wanted some time to think.
I left Mateo packing up his gear and went to the secure room. I could hear Arturo talking in his office and the murmur of Catalina answering him. I crept past quietly, and ten minutes later I had the facts.
At first I just stood there, lost in thought. Gina had betrayed Arturo, there was no doubt. The bitch had cold-bloodedly set him up. She must have known what the Americans would
have done if they’d caught him with two hundred and fifty kis of coke. It would have been kinder to kill him. She’d been a scheming, greedy, two-faced traitor, and she’d deserved to die. But death by shark was gruesome. The thought of it sent shivers down my spine. It was a typical Arturo reaction, one calculated to inspire horror and fear.
At least he hadn’t hurt her family. I knew other cartels routinely took out whole families for even minor transgressions. A man who crossed a capo might come home to find his wife beaten and raped. A mule who lost a shipment knew her children would be hacked to death. All mobs were brutal by nature, but Arturo was more forgiving than most and had limited any punishment to affecting only the culprit. So why was I so horror-struck?
Idly, I looked at my own file again. Then I read Miguel’s file, also updated after his visit, and I finally examined the pictures of us together. I was smiling, but I didn’t look happy. There was a blankness to my eyes. We didn’t look like a couple, not even in the ones where he had an arm around my shoulders. It was weird, but I felt like I was looking at a clone of myself. Someone who looked like me but who wasn’t me.
I’d been deliberately closing myself off to my past for weeks, but now I closed my eyes and tried to remember Tétouan. I drew a blank. Amsterdam and Rome also came up empty.
Escamilla’s cellar. Arturo said I had told him that I’d been locked up there in a cage until Escamilla had discovered he could blackmail me. I tried to force myself back into that dark time, rebuilding the feel of that cage, and I got a flash of jeering faces. I knew who they were. They were Escamilla’s satellites, the ones who’d been shot the night Arturo took his revenge. I pushed further, but it didn’t help. All I had was those faces and a feeling of rage. I suppose they must have come to laugh at me, but thanks to Escamilla’s germ phobia I hadn’t been raped by them. Still, that cage gave me more than the screaming horrors; I sensed it was important somehow. So what else had gone on there, in that cellar?
I sat there and tried to remember, but it just wouldn’t come. Upset, I gave up. It would come back to me one day. I just had to be patient. I would have some tea and talk to Rafa and Chumillo. Work would get me through.