The place was packed, so they sat at the bar. I didn’t see you yesterday. I was busy with the investigation the whole time. Any progress? We’re at a dead end. By the way, yesterday when I got back to the hotel a man approached me: Are you Jean Pynchon? And who are you? They call me Culichi, did you rent a Cheyenne? Why? The man smiled, I did too, unfortunately they switched them on us. Are you sure? Absolutely, so if it isn’t too much trouble. When I told him it had blown up, the colour drained from his face and he gave me the keys to mine and took off. They were served fruit salad, quesadillas, eggs with bacon for Win, and coffee. I thought it would be something hotter, more exciting. Me too, who knows what that guy was up to, he probably wasn’t a businessman. With Valdés dead lots of strange people will be coming around, how did it go with Samantha? That woman is stubborn, she refused to tell me anything about Leo McGiver, she’s so clever I’m starting to think she really doesn’t know anything. I warned you, what are you going to do? Would you like to help me for another twenty-four hours? If you help me. I’m already helping, yesterday a squad located your suspect in Toronto and he confessed: he killed his wife with a Ruger 9mm, he didn’t kill Mayra Cabral de Melo, but he did do in Yolanda Estrada; he thought she knew about his crime and he freaked, so he went and got her; I’m told the guy is so overwrought he’s sick and he’s prepared to do his time here. How decent of him, what can I do for you? When McGiver turns up, let me know; I was going to ask you to take me to Dioni de la Vega, but they killed him last night. Where? You don’t know? in Altata. All night the telephone was ringing, maybe that’s why.

  As soon as he turned on the cell phone, his boss called.

  Where are you hiding, Lefty? Hard at work, chief, why? Last night there was a gunfight in Altata and I need you to give Pineda a hand. How many dead? Twenty-two, all members of the Valdés Cartel, which means this is going to turn ugly. Have they identified the bodies? All of them. Tell me who to report to. Pineda, and another thing: Lagarde called all upset, he wants to come back and go to prison, he says the F.B.I. interrogated him. Really? Just the way you’re hearing it, he told them he killed his wife. Did he confess anything about Mayra Cabral de Melo? I don’t know, the fact is he’s about to have a heart attack and he doesn’t want any part of Canada; Lefty, you and I had an agreement and I told you clearly that he had nothing to do with your table dancer. I remember. I ordered Lagarde to stay put and I want you on the case of the massacre; hand over the bodies to Ramírez tomorrow and that’ll be the end of it. Wait, why are you blaming me for this? You contacted Madrid, Angelita told me, what assurance do I have you didn’t do the same thing with the gringos? Chief, don’t make stuff up, you know what the F.B.I. brings on in me. Where are you? not long ago I called your house and you didn’t answer. I was out jogging, you know, a police officer should stay in shape. In any case, leave Lagarde alone; last night Zelda called Mayra’s mother and she’ll be here tomorrow, we’ll give her the body in accordance with the wishes of Attorney Meraz, who we are going to bury today; oh, and stop by the storeroom for your bulletproof vest, you’re going to like it, with all the shit flying we’ve got to take precautions; and if you don’t have plans for lunch, I’m cooking green pea soup, in case you’d like some. Are you cooking olive ridley too? Briseño hung up.

  Win and he said goodbye at the door of the Lucerna. Regarding McGiver, any sign of him, let me know; I’m going to track him down anyway, did you know he stayed here? Really? He leftyesterday; thanks, Mendieta. Good luck. Would you like me to modify our file on you? If it’s to make it worse, yes. Smiles.

  At the Forum he looked over the list of movies. He couldn’t decide between 16 Blocks and 300. He went to El Quijote instead, where he didn’t enjoy himself either because it was his friend’s day off.

  Are you one of those people who thinks Sundays are awful? Well, Lefty is too.

  At home he said hello to the dog and to its owners, who were on their way out to six o’clock Mass. Ring. He needed to speak with somebody so he picked up without looking: Fatso’s place. Edgar? Fresh, unfamiliar voice. Who is this? Susana Luján, do you remember me? Hey, Susana, of course I do, how are you? I’m well, Edgar, thank God, Enrique told us you’re a famous policeman now, he said you’ve put several drug traffickers in prison and they’re even writing a corrido about you. Pondering “told us” not “told me”, Mendieta decided to be prudent. Any success I’ve had is thanks to Enrique’s advice. It’s so nice to hear your voice, really; well, I know he told you about Jason and . . . Heavy silence. Are you there? Yes, I’m listening. Well, I’d like to talk to you about it. Tell me. Not on the telephone, in eleven days we’ll be in Culiacán and he’s really excited, Enrique told you he wants to meet you. Of course, Susana, it will be a pleasure to speak with you about this matter; yes, I’m excited too. Thank you, Edgar, so we’ll see you then.

  Christ.

  After a horrible night, he answered a call at nearly eight in the morning from Robles. Boss, somebody’s been gunned down at the edge of the Rosales Canal in Bacurimí. Call Pineda, that’s his specialty. I can’t, he’s still on the Altata massacre; the chief is busy with that too, they say there are about thirty bodies. You see, all this talk of war was no joke, so there’s no-one to go to Bacurimí? They found a voter’s card on him in the name of José Rivera Güémez and another I.D. as an employee of the Alexa; it probably has something to do with the case you’re investigating. I’m on my way.

  I’m sorry for your mother, the detective muttered, you couldn’t keep your promise to her. The eyes don’t change, he closed them, where did I read that? Shit, in the end everything you manage to say is something you’ve read. Fucking Parra, he must be thrilled to be farting around with the gringos.

  The vehicle’s doors were open, he took a good look at the carpets that had been washed recently, the dashboard, the bloodstained seat, a bottle of water in the middle, behind the seat a black umbrella. Everything else spotless. Ready? a young technician had come, his cell phone’s one of the good ones. Get me his calls and messages from the past few days. We’ll have it all in two hours. Was it an A.K.? We counted thirty-two shells. And only one killed him? Two, in the head. The back window was shattered. They shot at him from behind and from the left.

  At a prudent hour he dialled Zelda. Agent Toledo, be careful on the street, they gunned down Rivera in Bacurimí. Listen, boss, if Samantha Valdés becomes head of the cartel we’ll have some clout, won’t we? What makes you think that? You two know each other at least. They don’t need us, Zelda, they have practically the entire Mexican police force and part of the D.E.A. on their side. I was just saying, in case sometime we need something, you remember we gave her a couple of culprits a while back. No-one remembers that, Zelda, are you at home? At the airport, I’m waiting for Mayra Cabral de Melo’s mother; I called you on Saturday to let you know the chief gave me the order, but you were disconnected. He mentioned that yesterday, know who killed Yolanda Estrada? No. Lagarde; he confessed. Poor girl, there was nothing special about her, was there? He must have been the one who tore up the picture of the Brazilian team. That’s possible, you know how we get when we’re upset; listen, I’ll take the señora to Headquarters and we can meet up there. Zelda, I don’t want to know any more about this case, take her statement and hand over the body, I’m going to buy a bottle of Macallan and do I ever deserve it. Isn’t it on the early side?

  He was nearing the Col Pop when his cell phone rang. How are you this morning, nuisance? Living off the reputation of the Mexican police. Bunch of fucking lazy bastards. Lazy your mother, asshole, half the force is working on a mass murder in Altata and I’m on my way back from the Rosales Canal where the sun rose on fourteen bodies. Altata, you say? don’t fuck with me, I’ve got a little house there and I’m on my way there now. It’s good of you to turn yourself in, eyewitnesses insist it was a pudgy bastard with an evil face. Your whore of a mother. Listen, the bit about the bodies is true and if you want my advice, don’t go, who knows what’s up. McGiver is a gunrunner working for the Valdés family. In other words, an upstanding citizen. Now give me my present, asshole, my birthday came and went and you just looked the other way. He hung up.

  Trudis met him at the door. What’s wrong with you, Lefty? your eyes look like they’ve seen the devil; have you been out drinking or could it be true that the war on crime is for real? We shall not stop until we have put an end to this terrible scourge of humanity. Bravo, my man Lefty for president, would you like some breakfast? since I didn’t see you around, I didn’t cook anything; I’ll make you some red snapper chicharrones this very minute so you can start the day on the right foot. Just coffee, Trudis. There’s no Nescafé, it must have run out yesterday, cough up some change so I can go to the Oxxo for a jar. Go to Hilda’s, it’s closer. I also need cheese, mach-aca, and soap. You can go to Ley later on, now bring me coffee. Before he went into the bathroom, he drank a long guzzle of whisky: Edgar, get in gear, act like you’re dumb, don’t lose your head, stay cool, if you want to make it to the end so you can scratch your belly at your beach house, you’d better behave like a real policeman. Passion makes you stupid, sadness wastes you away, so wise up. Who cares if there’s one nipple less in the world? O.K., you find that intriguing, but don’t get stuck, bro, don’t get stuck or you’ll get lost. In whooshed the image of Bardominos, the priest who abused him when he was eight. He recuperated with a double whisky. I need Parra.

  He drank his Nescafé hot. Are you sure you don’t want your chicharrones? You eat it, if there’s any left leave it in the micro. What if the gringo calls? Tell him to call me on the cell phone. That’s better, the poor kid, the way you act I can only imagine what happens when my kids call their fathers, it’s horrible to think they might be like you. But he isn’t my son. Well, he says he is. He told you that? And he told me a few things about his mother; I knew her, she was quite the babe, even I wanted to be pretty like her, she was the best-looking girl in the neighbourhood. Tell me about it later. He escaped. Getting into the Jetta parked in the street, he failed to notice the dog wagging his tail.

  He drove about aimlessly, and the emptiness hit him. At last I understand the meaning of being a loser, of living a life without purpose, of practising a profession that has turned out to be useless for solving the case I care most about. Christ, and Jagger goes on as if time doesn’t pass, collecting his fans’ underwear. However, his mood soon lifted and he put all his attention on John Lennon’s “Woman”. Cavalry charge. He answered Zelda’s call. Boss, forgive me for insisting.

  Elena Palencia was dressed modestly. No make-up. She confirmed the football player’s story. I want to give my daughter the funeral she deserves, she was such a good girl, obedient and always thinking about retiring; I put away enough money for her to live a good life. She sighed. I know she had a couple of accounts in Mexican banks. The documents turned up and we’ll make sure you get them. It’s a huge loss, if you had only met her you would agree. What about her father? A poor fool the two of us pulled out of poverty; we have a business in São Paulo that he manages, but we can’t leave him alone for long because his relatives will swindle him; my poor daughter, she wanted a career as an actress; she had the beauty and the talent, too bad you never met her. I did meet her, and as you say she was a wonderful person. Elena looked at Lefty. Are you the policeman from Mazatlán? How did you know? She told me about you, she told me everything, let me see. She opened a handbag filled with letters. It was about three months ago. Zelda looked on, amazed. Let’s see, your name is, you’re a lefty, aren’t you? my daughter found that funny. She flipped through several letters and stopped on one. Let me look, she skimmed the page, here it is, hang on: Edgar, your name is Edgar. A smile crossed her lips. She loved to write letters, they were like her diary, her main pastime, and here I’ve got all of them from the past year. She handed the letter to Lefty, who saw his name. Elena, your daughter had beautiful penmanship, would you let us read a few? Of course, what about the papers, when do we begin? Right now.

  Lefty asked Terminator to take Elena to the morgue with an order to hand over the body of Mayra Cabral de Melo. He returned to Zelda. Agent Toledo, if you’d like to glance over these letters, go ahead, I don’t want to know anything about anything, all I desire is that bottle I told you about a little while ago. Angelita came in. Boss, Paty Olmedo insists on speaking with you. Tell her I’m not in. I’d hate to do that, she sounds so sad, she’s whimpering on the telephone.

  Gandhi Olmedo had hoped to meet up with his daughter on Sunday, but she was overcommitted with her friends, or so she said; they agreed to have breakfast on Monday. Paty was always late and this time too; mid-morning she called to apologise, but nobody answered. She went to the house, found the door unlocked and her father in his favourite chair with a bullet-hole in his forehead. Next to him, a bottle of whisky, two glasses, one untouched.

  She keened, thinking: he really wasn’t so bad, much better than Don José Antonio, who killed his ex and earned the eternal hatred of his son. Marcos had told her all about it. He wasn’t ugly either; rough, disdainful, bossy, but not ugly; loyal to his collection of broken guitars. Not a hypocrite either, he told a lot of people the truth about themselves. She stood still a moment longer. And to top it off they killed the woman he liked, poor Papa.

  The telephone rang: Yes? Is this the Olmedo family? Who’s calling? A friend of Fabián Olmedo’s, may I speak with him? He can’t come to the telephone. Tell him that McGiver’s calling, are you his secretary? I’m his daughter. Ah, how are you? your father told me how fabulous you are, you’re his idol. Paty wailed. What’s wrong? They killed him, señor, I just found him with a bullet in his head. No kidding, I brought him a piece of a guitar recently and he asked me to get him another, we’ve been friends since we were kids. Paty nodded, sobbing harder. Oh God, do I feel sad, señor . . . McGiver, Leo McGiver. It was only a few days ago when I realised how much I loved him, how special he was, I’m a mess. Let me tell you something, he built an empire for you, I advise you to seize the reins right now, don’t hesitate. I’m not sure that’s for me. Of course it is, he told me so not long ago, what’s more, he was very troubled about what happened between you. He told you that? He believed in you and he told me as much, he said you were half-crazy, but in your hands his businesses would never fail, and I will be your first customer: I need twelve Hummers by tomorrow, if you’ve got them armoured all the better, I’ll just have to get them checked over to make sure, I’ll send for them before three o’clock; charge them all to the companies of the L.E.Q. group which you’ll have in your records; since you’ll be busy with the funeral, call the secretary and give her the order, and I’ll take it up with the managers. She was not crying, she was listening with astonishment to something in her brain that settled comfortably around the smuggler’s words. I’m small, she reflected, but the world of business is smaller still. I’ll be in touch, he said. Will you stand by me? Listen, I’m about to leave the city, when I get back I’ll look you up; what will you do with your father’s collection? Continue it. I ask because he ordered a piece from me. Get it. I have something from Kiss in sight. Those faggots? don’t even think about it. They said goodbye. Not only must the show go on, the business must too. Paty found herself once more beside the body and she sobbed, sat down, and dialled Mendieta.

  Lefty and his team took possession of the place. The neighbours had not seen a thing, neither had they heard the shot. The technicians went over the cell phones and found that his last call had been the day before. Adán Carrasco answered, told them they were friends and it was about business. He was surprised to hear about it.

  Cavalry charge. It was Zelda. Boss, you have to come.

  Forty-Four

  At this late date would they read a letter in which Mayra tells her mother about her fear of being murdered and by whom? Just as I thought, dear reader.

  They were driving away from Headquarters listening to “Jumping Jack Flash” at full volume, when he received a call from Samantha Valdés. I need to speak with you, commander. I’m not one of your men, Samantha, I’m too stupid and still a bit honest. Precisely why I’m interested, Lefty Mendieta, you think we don’t need honest men in our ranks? though you may not believe it or haven’t even thought about it, this business doesn’t work without a large dose of loyalty and honesty; internal divisions will wreck any group unless corrective measures are taken immediately. What happened in Altata was kind of vicious, wasn’t it? It was necessary. What makes you think you can trust me? Lefty Mendieta, I know I can, or at least my intuition tells me that, and since you want to know, because of the respect my father had for you, even if he never said so, and well, I liked what McGiver told me; suppose we meet in an hour at the Miró. I wouldn’t show, we just located the murderer of the girl from the Alexa and we’re on our way to get him. Do you need support? He thought about it. It wouldn’t be a bad idea, send over six men, the kind that shoot. Where? He gave her directions. Are you sure? Though you may not believe it, as you like to say. He was a friend of my father’s. You figure out which side you’re on. You are a tough cookie, Lefty Mendieta, they’re on their way. Fucking Mick Jagger, you’re not the only one who does exciting things, faggot.

  The trip was just long enough for him to recover his anger and run with its momentum.

  They arrived at El Continente, which without the Yankee presence felt desolate. A few workers were going about their usual daily tasks. They stopped about twenty metres from the house. On a spot of wet ground, Lefty saw tyre marks he recognised. Zelda nodded when he pointed them out. Behind them, in their new vests, came Terminator, Camel, and two backups carrying A.R.-15s. Terminator waved the workers away, and they complied with a haste worthy of the movies. Adán Carrasco came out to meet them with a smile that hardened instantly. Behind him, his foreman, bristling with weaponry. What can I do for you, detective? he shouted, this time I see you’ve brought plenty of company. I’ve come for you, Adán Carrasco, you fucking criminal. What madness is this, detective? you know I’m a man of peace. A murderer is what you are and you’re going to pay. I have dual nationality, detective, I fought in two wars and I am a friend of the father of the president of the most powerful country in the world. They each took a step forward. Tell the sap beside you to drop his guns and give yourself up; with all that pull they’ll probably extradite you tomorrow. It was hot and humid. Carrasco drew his gun and pointed it at Mendieta, who did the same; the foreman pointed his weapons at the others, who reacted in kind. Before I do away with you, detective, how did you figure it out so fast? it’s hard to believe. You left tracks you couldn’t cover. Look, the guy made himself difficult, I owed him money and he didn’t want to wait, I had to liquidate him, but I don’t believe I left any tracks; if the Iraqis didn’t break me, you fucking two-bit cops sure won’t. He fired, as did the foreman, but they were nervous and the bullets only grazed their targets. Lefty and his people dropped to the ground shooting wildly, while Carrasco and his companion took cover behind the house. Then the police huddled between two parked hunting Jeeps.