Deadly Journey (31 page)

Chapter 53

Sight for Sore Eyes

As soon as
Leandra had entered through the door, the familiar fragrance of her perfume and
her beaming smile enveloped the room. She looked smart in her suit, with a
knee-length skirt and a black jacket over a pinstripe blouse, carrying a black
crocodile-skin briefcase and with her hair tied in a bun. If anything, she
looked more like an attorney than Angelica did. She opened her arms, stepped
over to me, and took hold of me in an embrace that I wanted to return, but I
couldn’t, restricted by the cuffs.

‘Oh, Kurt, Kurt, I’m so sorry. Angelica
told me all about the divorce.’

My head rested on her shoulder. Words
eluded me, responding with first a whimper and then unbridled sobs. She
released her hold and placed her hands on my shoulders. Head bowed, I sucked in
a lungful of air, the breath faltering as I exhaled.

‘Kurt, I know it’s going to be hard, but
you have to focus. Come on, sit down.’ It was as if I didn’t know which way was
up and she guided me onto the chair. Leandra took a handkerchief from her pocket
and dabbed my eyes. ‘That’s better.’

Her eyes followed mine, together with her
broad smile, which I couldn’t shake off however I tried to avert my gaze, at
least not without attempting a faint smile in return to slake the plea in her
eyes.

‘See, it’s not all doom and gloom. You have
friends to get you through all this.’

She handed me her handkerchief and walked
around the desk. Leandra took hold of the chair, dragged it in front of me, and
then sat. Our knees touched and she took hold of my hands in hers.

‘Talking... about... friends, did you see
my buddy Rob on your way in?’

‘What was he wearing?’

‘Black... pants and a brown leather jacket.’

‘So that was him? Yes, I saw him. He opened
the door for me at reception. His eyes followed my ass all the way through
reception. It freaked me out.’

‘No harm in appreciating the female butt.
At least I know he’s not gay.’

‘Would it make him any less of a friend if
he was?’

‘Well, no. Just saying, seeing as how he
never has a girlfriend. Anyway, he’s going to try and help, but—’

Leandra interrupted my train of thought. ‘You
know something? I should have slapped you instead of greeting you with a hug.
Do you know that?’

‘Why?’

‘For leaving me back there at the house and
not returning. Have you any idea what that did to me?’

‘Sorry, but at least you’re free. Don’t
think I didn’t feel guilty. Look where leaving you got me.’

‘Yeah, well, you should feel guilty,
instead of feeling sorry for yourself.’

I couldn’t be sure of the logic,
considering what I was facing, but her banter snapped me out of my mood. ‘So,
how come the Christina name and how did you get to be Angelica’s assistant?’

‘Never mind me. Tell me everything about
what it’s like in here first.’

Leandra listened intently, but there was no
smile from her as I recounted all the events of the past few days. She sat back
and threw her head upward.

‘Oh, my God. That’s worse than at the
villa. We’ve got to get you out of here.’ She shook her head. ‘I never thought
to bring you any food. I’ll bring some fruit tomorrow and some shaving cream
with a safety razor. You look dreadful.’

‘Thanks, but my appearance isn’t exactly a
priority. So, tell me what happened after I left the house.’

Her brow creased, I assumed at the
recollection.

‘I slept at first and when I awoke it was
dark. My ankle had swollen, so I could only hobble. After a few hours, I sort
of guessed you wouldn’t return and I called you all the demons under the sun. I
cried a lot for my mom, but I knew I had to do something myself, so I pressed
the button on that gadget you left with me. Then I slept until daybreak.’

‘What about the computer and the bags?’

‘Don’t worry, I have them stashed away.’

‘So how did you get away from the house?’

‘Pedro turned up mid-morning and it’s been
a helter-skelter ride ever since.’

‘Pedro? I don’t get it, why he would want
to keep you safe?’

‘Me neither, until he explained. Father
hired him to infiltrate the cartel, to watch over me and at best to rescue me.
I have to say, though, he’s not pleased with me staying to help you, instead of
returning home. I’m just blessed he has contacts in high places
–
and some low, shady places. I’m still jet-lagged, we’ve done so much
travelling.’

‘Where to?’

‘We booked into a hotel at first. Then I
visited the embassy to collect my documents, and flew on to Panama. I was in
Panama when I read about your arrest and flew straight back to Mexico. We found
out who your attorney was and where they were holding you. Pedro arranged for some
false Mexican documents and here I am.’

‘What were you doing in Panama? Where are
you staying?’

‘Slow down. I’ve rented an apartment near
here. Let’s just say I was putting my tutor’s business teaching to good use in
Panama and leave it at that.’

‘Does Angelica know who you really are?’

‘Yes.’

There was a tap on the door and it opened.
Our guard entered with three coffees in plastic cups on a tray and set them
down on the table. Angelica followed, with another guard carrying a chair.

‘I thought we could all use a coffee,’
Angelica said.

I took a sip and savoured the aroma. ‘Oh
my, Angelica by name and an angel by nature. You don’t know how welcome this
is.’

‘No, but I can imagine.’

The guards left the room. Angelica sat as
the door closed.

‘Good, now you and
–
ahem
–
Christina are acquainted, we can get
down to business. But you should know that it is vitally important we keep her
identity in all this a secret.’

‘How do we do that if she’s going to make a
witness statement?’

‘That won’t be required. Besides, it would
just be words. What she holds is worth more than a million words. Then there’s
always the chance that in the face of overwhelming forensic evidence to the
contrary of any statement, they could charge her as an accomplice.’

‘Now you’ve got me baffled.’

‘The computer, numbskull,’ Leandra said. ‘It
has everything on the hard drive we need to work a deal. Names, dates, amounts,
equipment, sites, routes, bank accounts, everything.’

‘That will include your father.’

Leandra coughed, tapping her lips with a
clenched fist. ‘No. Funnily enough, it doesn’t.’ She winked and crossed her
legs.

‘So how do we go about using what the
computer contains?’

‘Christina is going to transcribe the
information, splitting it into two parts
–
information
that’s of interest to the authorities here and another for the American
authorities. To start the negotiations, we’ll present the information without
the names and full details. For example, we’ll list that there are fourteen
known tunnels under the border, but without their locations. We can also say,
for example, there are one hundred and twenty-two customs and baggage handlers
on the cartel’s payroll in America and two hundred and thirty-one in Mexico.
Then we can split the government officials north and south of the border, with
a separate list of elected officials.’

‘What! In the United States?’

‘You’ll be surprised. It could bring down
the governments both sides of the border, or at least cause one hell of a lot
of damage,’ Angelica said.

‘And it’s all in there?’

‘Honestly, it’s all there,’ Leandra said.

‘I’ve just had a thought. Can’t Pedro make
a statement?’

Angelica said. ‘We tried that, but he
can’t, or won’t. He said it would compromise his activities, whatever that meant.
I don’t even think Pedro is his real name. Maybe he’s wanted somewhere by the
police. He did say he’d contacted the DEA anonymously and told them you’d
escaped.’

‘Did he now. Where is he?’

‘Pedro’s probably outside waiting for me.
He’s following my every step,’ Leandra said.

There was a tap on the door and it opened.

‘Time’s up,’ said Angelica. ‘Christina can
visit you every day as my assistant, so you don’t have to wait for public
visiting days. Oh, and I’ve told the guards you need to phone your American
attorney before you go back to the cell.’

‘I don’t have change for the pay phone.’

‘I have. Just make sure you stay around to
pay me back,’ said Leandra. ‘No heroics and don’t do anything stupid.’

‘I won’t. Listen, Angelica, when do you
hope to have this meeting with the authorities?’

‘Tomorrow afternoon, hopefully. I’m just
waiting to hear back from the Americans.’

I stood and watched them leave the room and
the guards closed the door. There was still a fog behind my eyes, to remind me
of my grief, but at least I now had hope of getting out of there. The guard
returned and escorted me to the pay phone. I dialled the number from memory.

‘Jeff Clayton, Homicide.’

I waited.

‘Who’s calling?’

‘Jeff, don’t hang up. It’s Kurt Rawlings.’

There was maybe a minute of silence. I
guessed that I was the last person he would expect to hear from.

‘What is it?’

‘I understand you’re working the gangland
massacre at the trailer fire near the border from a few weeks back?’

‘Why, was it you? I could do with a
confession to sign it off. The case is going nowhere.’

‘No, it wasn’t me, give me a rest. I don’t
need anything more pinned on my chest. Let me run something by you. It may
interest you. Then I need you to look up the name and phone number of a lawyer.’

‘Go on. I’m listening.’

Chapter 54

Revelation

Surfer danced
around me in the yard like a Yorkshire terrier, snapping excitedly at my heels
with questions and scenarios. They all seemed to centre around setting up a
drug trafficking empire on the outside. I ignored him all the way to the cell.

‘Surfer, take a hike.’

I climbed onto my bunk, pulled some
Blue-Tack from the wall and stuck my court papers next to the paper-chain
figures.

Surfer’s face peered over the bunk. ‘Listen,
If you already have someone on the outside, at least say you’ll put my name
forward. I’ve got to find some way of paying my debt to MS-13.’

There was no way I could shake him loose.
His persistence in pursuing the matter stuck in my craw. ‘Try getting a job.’

‘Come on, man. Don’t be so self-centred.’

‘Okay, okay, write down a contact number,
for if
you get out. I’ll see what I can do. No promises, mind you. But
let me ask you one thing
–
hypothetically speaking. Say
someone paid off your debt and gave you a job. Would you take it and turn your back
on trafficking?’

‘Depends. If it paid me enough money to
look after my girlfriend and daughter, I guess I’d try it
–
hypothetically speaking, you understand. It ain’t going to happen,
though, is it? I didn’t have any debt when I came out the army and no one would
give me a chance. I’ve always dreamed of opening a surfboard business, but that
takes money.’

‘Where did you serve?’

‘Afghanistan, mostly. Lost a lot of good
buddies over there.’

‘Thanks for your service. Sorry about your
friends.’

Surfer took a step back. ‘No one’s ever
said that to me before. Most people don’t give a shit. But, yeah, thanks. Good
friends and loyalty are hard come by.’

‘No joke, I meant it.’

‘Say, what are the papers for?’

‘Divorce documents.’

‘Oh, man, that’s tough. Sorry. I’ll leave
you be. Listen, don’t go doing anything stupid.’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’

Surfer disappeared and settled on his bunk.
I lifted the corner of the mattress and retrieved the second copier sheet Skunk
had given me. A little folding and tearing at the paper and I unravelled my
handiwork, depicting Leandra and me, and then stuck it to the wall. Surfer was
right, good friends and loyalty are hard to come by. I had been disloyal in my
mind and the affection I’d displayed toward Leandra. But not so disloyal that
I’d acted upon it while ever I hoped to get home and to put things right with
Mary. Maybe it was the effect of the Stockholm syndrome on both our parts in
captivity. Whatever, my feelings for Leandra were real.

Time, I thought, was a strange beast. On
the outside, there was so little time to cram in all the things that I wanted
or needed to do. Time was like a drug; we’re always craving more. The mundane
tasks of life soak up every second, until you look back and wonder where all
those precious moments went. Or the things you might have squeezed into your
life, if only you’d made better use of your time.

Here on the inside, time was the enemy.
There was so much time, you could almost drown in the boredom of it passing
–
either that or go mad in a hailstorm of thoughts pounding at
your brain. It was those ifs, buts and maybes again. If only I’d paid Mary more
attention, and maybe taken that promotion things would have turned out
different. Perhaps fate would have found a way of steering me back on an even
course, instead of facing death on this deadly journey. It was time to accept
fate
.
Whatever life threw my way, I wasn’t
prepared to accept the death just yet.

Skunk walked into the cell, his head bowed,
coughing and wheezing as usual.

‘How’d the results of your examination go?’
Surfer asked him.

Skunk sank his backside into his mattress.

‘The big C. Two weeks at best. The doctor’s
gonna get me onto the ward in a few days.’

Guilt stabbed me for having disrespected
him the other day. ‘Can’t they treat the cancer?’ I asked.

‘No, the doctor says it’s too far gone and
it’s spread to my lungs.’

‘Did the doctor give you anything?’

‘No, fuck all, only a damned half-hearted
apology.’

‘I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can get
you through the guards to make things easier? You know, cough medicine for your
throat or anything?’

‘I couldn’t pay you back.’

‘Hell, this has nothing to do with money.’

‘Some sort of snake oil would be good for
the throat, and say some expectorant to ease my breathing.’

He looked pitiful sitting on his bunk.
Maybe Surfer was joking when he said he was a serial killer
–
who knows. It wasn’t the sort of thing to ask of a fellow inmate.
All I could see was that he was a man in need. Whatever he had done, it was up
to him to make his peace and not for me to judge him.

‘Okay, I’m on it now.’

Easing off the bunk, I headed for the gate,
only to be stopped mid-step by Big Guy and his crew on the stairway.

‘Ah, American, you’ve saved me a journey. I
need a word.’

Two of his crew sidestepped me on the
stairway and stood behind me. I stood with my back pressed to the wall.

‘What do you want?’

‘Seems we have word of a rat in our midst.’

‘What do you mean by rat? There’s a few
cockroaches in here, I’ll give you that.’

‘I think you know what I mean, smartass. A
certain DEA agent. A sort of runt of the pig’s litter. A rich one at that, I’d
say.’

My Adam’s apple tried to escape through my
mouth before a sigh settled it back in position.

‘Don’t know who you mean?’

‘We’ve only had six Americans join us the past
few days, and I figure it could be you. You seem smarter than the rest.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s not me.
Besides, how do you know he isn’t Mexican?’

He bit his lip at my question. I hoped the
notion had penetrated his skull and upped his calculation.

‘We’ll see. I will find out when I’m sent a
mug shot on visiting day. Whoever it is, they’re going to need protection from
El Presidente’s gang in here when they find out who murdered their leader. I
reckon five million dollars should do it in money or coke at trade value.’

‘I’m sure it would.’

‘Think about it. There is an alternative.’
He drew his fingers across his throat and rumbled a laugh. ‘But don’t think
about it for too long. The offer won’t be on the anvil forever before the
hammer strikes.’

He shook his head and laughed as he set off
walking up the stairway and his other cronies passed me. It seemed everyone
wanted of piece of the action I didn’t have. Short of them transferring me out
of there, I only had two days until public visiting before I was probably going
to be carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey. At least they didn’t have a name.
They would be bound to put the question to all the Americans, but with the
amount of comings and goings of Hispanics. With luck, I had seeded doubt to
widen his options. All I could hope was that Surfer wouldn’t ask them to put a
price on snitching as to who I really was to clear his debt. Then it struck me.
My name was written all over the divorce documents stuck above my bed. I
hurried to my cell, ripped the divorce documents off the wall and put them in
my pocket.