Silver Bullets (7 page)

On Sunday he awoke with the image of the priest Bardominos in his thoughts. He got up feeling tired, he had slept with the television on and feeling troubled that he could not wipe such a hurtful image from his memory. He dragged up Parra's words: Seek out intellectual enjoyment, mental exercises that give you pleasure, like learning something new, works of art, books, concerts, crossword puzzles; force yourself, most of our intelligence springs from our emotions and you cannot spend your whole life carrying around that open wound, it's really important for you to fall in love.

He made a Nescafé and picked up the copy of the novel
News from the Empire
that Ortega had left him. Paola Rodríguez's name was on the flyleaf. “I am Marie Charlotte of Belgium, Empress of Mexico and of America. I am Marie Charlotte Amélie, cousin of the Queen of England, Grand Magister of the cross of Saint Charles, and Vicereine of the Lombardo-Veneto Provinces, which Austria's clemency and mercy has subsumed under the two-headed eagle of the House of Habsburgs.”

Well, now, he chuckled, if I remember correctly this woman went insane. Did Paola admire her? Was Bruno her Maximilian?
Nobles who kill each other with silver bullets but would never desecrate the bodies, high-class people who demonstrate their decorum in their most villainous acts. Not bad; however, the weapons are not the same and suppose Ortega was wrong? Impossible.

He continued reading. The farther into the novel he got, the more absorbed he became, and that offered a break from his professional ruminations. At eleven the landline rang.

Hello. Edgar Mendieta? Yes. This is Samantha Valdés, I heard you were looking for me and I figured I'd call you first, where can we see each other in an hour?

What, now the ducks shoot at the hawks? They shook hands.

Samantha was tall, perfect measurements if a bit too large at the hips; rumor had it she had spent a fortune on plastic surgeons, but not even the Brazilians had managed to get it right. Red tresses, thin lips, green eyes, nails painted purple; her soft perfume had not been floating in Canizales's room, at least not the scent she had on at the moment. She wore black and had arrived in a green Hummer, which the detective spied through the window. An H3. She parked it next to the botanical gardens named for Carlos Murillo Depraect. A black pickup with tinted windows carrying the bodyguards she preferred to keep out of her sight had pulled up a few yards behind her.

She was a strong-willed woman who did not like to waste time: What's bothering you, Lefty Mendieta? Did his voice crack? No, were his palms sweaty? Not a chance. Did he lower his eyes? Not even in your dreams. The detective liked the way she used the familiar
tú
, the way she took a sip of the coffee he had in front of him and made fun of the dishwater people drank in every government office. Canizales was killed with a silver bullet, do you know anyone who uses them? Lots, though only two of them live here, and, if you don't mind me saying, they would be
the last people interested in someone like Bruno, they're people of a certain stature. People of a certain stature also get spattered with blood. What do you know? Oh, you learn a few things being a policeman despite what you may have been told. People like you don't reach those heights, understand? She gave him a cold, irritated smile. Mendieta chose not to pursue the matter.

He asked for another espresso, she for a Frappuccino. The place was overflowing with chattering women. During the week they left their children at school and congregated here until classes let out: they gossiped about diets, fashion, diseases, useless husbands, high-spirited secretaries. On Sundays many of them continued the gabfest while their husbands watched soccer or got drunk with their friends.

I sought you out for two reasons, Mendieta: First, respect my father, asshole; he is one of the most important men in this country; the president, his ministers, and every brownnoser around them salutes him, if it weren't for him millions of people would be unemployed and dying of hunger, who are you to harass him at home? A worthless, starving policeman; second, do not bother Mariana Kelly, do you hear me? She had nothing to do with that murder, but she's anxious, she once threatened him in public so she's afraid of being interrogated. What are you worried about? Your daddy will fix everything in the time it takes to say amen. I don't want you to mix my father up in this, jerk-off, your disdain I understand, but I don't give a fuck, to each his own and don't think for a minute I sought you out for your pretty face, I'll pay you for the favor. You can take your money and your father's money and shove it up your ass and, stay where you are, girlie, hold it right there, because I don't have time for cheap theatrics. Red-lipped smile, a woman accustomed to difficult moments: Say whatever you like, you'll always be a piece of shit. Mendieta's face grew hard: I'm not playing,
Samantha Valdés, and now that we're into it, I hope you'll answer a few questions. I'll answer whatever you want as long as you do the same, and don't make me suspicious, asshole, because I'll be after you wherever you go, she paused, her features like stone. He was going to reply but decided to change the subject. Tell me about your relationship with Bruno Canizales. I liked how he did it with me, he drove me wild, that man had a feeling for the body, for sexual sensations, for time, for smell, he made everyone else look like a moron; I'd give him a ten and even an eleven if that's allowed; and then my son became really attached to him, he even took him to the park and he had the patience his father never had, end of story. I'll pay for your Frappu if you'll tell me where you were last Thursday night. At home, Friday was the final episode of
To Die on Your Breast
and I wasn't going to miss the one before it for anything in the world. At last, the detective thought, someone who does not watch Channel 22. How did you learn about Bruno Canizales's death? From the newspaper, so would he take her off the list? No, first he needed to learn a couple of things: Did you know Paola Rodríguez? Of course, a goddamn witch who kept getting in Bruno's way, the idiot freaked out when I took her down a few pegs, I sent over a couple of thugs to shake her up a bit and it worked like a charm, people have such bad manners, why don't they leave you in peace? What makes you think Mariana had nothing to do with it? She doesn't go to such extremes, she's really a live and let live girl, and besides she wouldn't lie to me. You are her goddess. Something like that, she believes they're going to come for her sooner or later and she's terrified, I told her the Mexican police are useless, that my dad has them all bought and paid for, we even made a couple of calls when we knew they were looking for her, but she's convinced they're going to put the squeeze on her and she doesn't want trouble; the district attorney gave us
your boss's telephone and he gave us yours; we calculated your price more or less, would you prefer Madrid, Paris, New York, or cash, I'm talking about two weeks all-inclusive and, of course, accompanied by whomever you choose, since we've heard the rumors about you, she smiled knowingly. I find your pragmatism charming, who are the ones who use silver bullets? I'm not going to tell you, Bruno didn't even register in their world and I don't believe those people would shoot at anyone; stop playing the fool, you only live once and you ought to live it. Thank you for the advice. So? She pulled a manila envelope out of her bag and laid it in front of him. Mendieta spied Rudy Jiménez by the cash register and waved to him, the café's owner winked and smiled. Tell Mariana Kelly if she thinks it's going to happen, it will, and tell her to expect me, I'll be by for her tomorrow, same story with your father. You are a son of a bitch, Mendieta, and you know what, you are going to regret it, sharp breath in, my father I don't worry about, he can take care of himself, I'd like to see you try to lay a finger on Mariana so you'll finally learn who you are dealing with, asshole. She picked up the envelope, stood up, dumped over the rest of her coffee, and stalked off. Okay.

Rudy quickly wiped the table with a cloth. No question about it, you are a man of fixed tastes, Detective, you like them wild. I've got to be consistent in something, don't you think? You like the debauched life, listen, if you get your appetite back, my wife just returned from Berlin and she brought back a ham that'll make you die of natural causes, would you care to try some? Later, I've got to go to headquarters. Don't dismiss it like that, life comes down to good meals and knowing how to get through the times in between. Not now, but if you don't leave me any I'll set the health department on you. A nice-looking thin man with a mustache approached. Do you know Ferocious Rendón? Rudy had called him over. I've not had the pleasure, they shook hands.
I'll leave you, Jiménez went back to his office. Detective, you studied literature, right? Yes, but I wouldn't do it again. I remember seeing you at the university, you were always late to class and you yawned the whole time. Ah, you teach Hispanic-American literature, but I never had you. No, you took it with Liz. Short and chubby, right. Rudy tells me you're a detective and you hate detective novels. There's something to that. But I didn't ask him to introduce us for that reason; I have a problem, I don't know if you can help. Try me. A month ago my car was stolen, I reported it to the insurance company, and the only thing they've done is give me the runaround, I probably spent more money chasing after the things they want than I should have; tell me if there is any way I can oblige them to pay me or failing that for the police to find the car, the fact is I'm fed up with all the back and forth. I'm in Homicide, Professor, go to headquarters and look for Señor Urrea in the Department of Stolen Vehicles, tell him I sent you, see if something can still be done. Rendón thanked him and went back to his table to continue drinking beer.

While he was paying, he thought how great it was that Samantha was bisexual, he did not think there was a man or woman anywhere in the world who could turn her crank. There are women for whom
everything
will never be enough.

The kid with the bike and Beatriz were talking in bed after making love. They were smoking marijuana and drinking cold beers, which they took out of a small green cooler. They were in a motel.

I don't feel right, he muttered after toking on the freshly rolled joint. Well, I do, at last I've got that brat off my back; you have no idea what hell it was living with her, she was like a vacuum cleaner sucking up all the affection, all the money, all the ideas, all the opportunities; nothing saw the light in that house unless it fit her atrocious taste; even when she was little she was insufferable and I was the one who had to take care of her because my mother never loved her; I've had to be careful, but these days have been the best days in my life, first because I have you all to myself and second because I don't have to share the house or the hallways with anyone; the other bedroom is for me now, in a few days I'll move over there so you can climb in the window, since you already know the way; I'll hang some heavy drapes to keep out the curious. They smoked, the kid kept his eyes closed. That damn witch turned the pictures around so there would be no witnesses, can you believe it? Nothing could be sicker than
that; Papa is drinking a bit, but that will pass and then I'll be his princess. The kid recalled: Zeke, turn those pictures, turn them around, you animal! I don't want them to see the way you abuse me and I don't want to be looking at Bruno. You aren't seeing straight, babe, to put it another way, you are absolutely nuts. About you, I'm not going to deny it, I live life fully, the human drama, I swear I finally understand Shakespeare, when are you going to see the play? I already saw it. But when are you going to go again? Too much effort, those friends of yours are pathetic, all of them, and that idiot that kisses you is falling for you, you know? Try to make him chill out. That's acted, don't believe it. Well, I don't like it, he grabs you by the ass like he wanted something else and at the funeral parlor I saw him put his arm around your waist. I love it when you get jealous. You're going to love it more if one day I bust that guy's fucking chops. If he stops kissing me will you come and see it? I didn't say that. But I'm asking, you have to do something to forget her, I forgave you for getting involved with her, I haven't told you but I spied on you two a lot, I'd hear you come in, listen to your moans, and I heard how she would put you down, it really bothers me that you're still stuck on her. I could give a fuck, remember you didn't seduce me, you tricked me when you pretended to be her in her bed, so I don't know which of you two is more of a pervert. The bros say you wouldn't hurt a fly, but the fly you should have killed has polluted half the planet and caused three epidemics with thousands of victims. She kissed him happily, having confirmed that every angel is terrifying.

He smoked, passed her the joint. Why this bad vibe? It's not like he was the son of a lowlife, right? Paola had always mocked him, treated him like a loser, she got off making him feel miserable: Don't put your disgusting tongue in my mouth, idiot, you
stink, get out of my life, you flea-bitten dog, I don't want to see you ever again, you make me sick.

Whoever does not deserve love deserves nothing.

Let's stop seeing each other, babe. Why? Beatriz brought her face close. Zeke, please don't do this to me, without her everything will be easier, I love you, I'm sick with love for you, dying for you, ready to do anything for you, I bet everything on a glance. You're too much to carry, Betty, and right now I'm weak, I'm frail, I'm really zonked. Don't be so inconsiderate, Zeke, don't be like that. Did I promise you a rose garden? No, but. So? He imagined everything going dark, Paola watching with a knowing look, unsmiling, disapproving; he threw his bottle against the wall: Get over it, babe, your future isn't me. But why stop seeing each other, we could meet once a week, keep our idyll alive, tell me you don't think it's incredible how we do it. He gave her a lightly scornful look: Okay, babe, but only when I ask for it. She kissed him, when will that be? She gave me a book, when I finish reading it. What book? One about a crazy queen,
News from the Empire
, I don't remember the author. Is it short? More or less. That means we'll see each other in a few days, right? When I finish it. I'll be at the window as much as I can, give me a sign. Oh, but if that asshole grabs your ass again you won't ever see me in your shitty life. Oooo, what a tough guy, she smiled. He gave her a fed-up look and sucked on what was left of the joint.