West of Laredo by Tom Armbruster (novel24 .txt) 📖

wanted and got in the end though was simple. No press, no cameras graveside to respect the privacy of the family. The first shovelful of earth turns over when a white SUV with San Antonio Times logo pulls up. Annie Parsone rolls down her window. "Just in time I see. Good morning Miss Penny."


Penny ignores Parsone. The camera sets up 15 yards from the dig.

"I thought we agreed no press."

"Sorry." A Mexican official from the Mayor's office just shrugs. "They always find out."


After some discussion as to just where to dig, the gravediggers start in. They estimate about where Pickert's body would be by the date. There are no markers, no grid, just a hope that they get the right guy. They have a shirt in no time. There are two remains right together. There is more discussion and they decide on the one to the left. Then a skull appears. One of the men raises it up, like Hamlet, and the jaw bone falls off. The cameras from San Antonio are still rolling. Miguel has to stifle a laugh.


Lee believes she is witnessing the end of her short Foreign Service career.

That night on the news Annie Parsone gives a full report on Pickert's beating death in prison and subsequent exhumation. Minus the jaw bone. The report is brief, to the point. Not graphic. The two missing Laredo teens do not get a mention, but there is a long report about a blonde co-ed from Queens who went missing in Acapulco. Life is apparently worth more in Queens than Laredo Lee muses.


Lee finishes her beer in a sports bar in Laredo and crosses the bridge back to Mexico. The Mexican side is less well lit, and has a darker, more dangerous feel. Lee herself feels like she dodged a bullet that she was willing to take. Had the news report been more critical of the Consulate's role in Marker's death she would have been happy to take the blame.


*23*


Farrington is on his way north again for the funeral. An hour out of Laredo he gets a call informing him the Ambassador is flying into Laredo on his way to meetings with the Texas Governor in Austin. Farrington calls Sinclair and asks him to represent the Consulate at the funeral for Pickert/Marker. Farrington turns south and heads back to Laredo.


Sinclair's call on Mrs. Pickert is short, respectful. The transportation of the body across the border and delivery to the mortuary worked perfectly. The funeral ceremony has no witnesses other than Sinclair and Mrs Pickert and the cemetery workers. Sinclair knows better than to try to break the silence. He simply stands by Mrs. Pickert side. Her body convulses several times from silent sobs. She dabs her nose and composes herself with a big breath. Sinclair turns to go and Mrs. Pickert calls him back.


She wipes her eyes. "Tell Consul Farrington I can only tell him one thing. Darrell called me once. Said it was a real busy day. Said he was helping people get into the United States to work who couldn't come because of some legal technicality. He said he was helping people. And I believe he was. He worked with someone he called El Mecanico, and then he laughed and said El Mecanico could fix anything for anybody."


Sinclair was silent for a long time. "Thank you Mrs. Pickert. You've been extraordinarily helpful. I am sorry for your loss." Sinclair took her hand in both of his and said goodbye.


*24*


Sunday, another day with with Second Chance, the good horse penned at the Youth Center in Laredo. This Sunday it feels good to see her horse and Dale but it hurts that Fa is not there. Lee thinks there is a chance the other kids may have some news or rumors about her but there are only a couple of high school kids and none of them were close to Fa. They ride along the river, early before it gets hot. They pass a junk yard, a sand and gravel pit, and then follow a path along the Rio Grande. It's quiet in the morning except for the bird calls. Every now and then a fish takes an insect on the river's surface and the rings of water expand.


At the pen back at the Youth Center Sinclair is waiting, sitting on a picnic table. "We need to talk about Pickert."

"How'd it go yesterday with the mom?"
"It went well. But I think I know what got him killed. Listen, what's your nickname on the visa line?

"Rubia. The Blonde."

"Right."

"Who am I?"

"El Viejo. The Old Guy."

"Juan?"

"Torreador?"

"Right. Every officer gets nicknamed on the street, and we all have our reputations. And who is Miguel?"
"Miguel? I don't know. Gordo? He's a little chubby."

"No. It's El Mecanico."

"Pickert mentioned that name in the first interview. He said, ‘say hello to El Mecanico.’ I didn't focus on it."

"Well, I just talked to Mrs. Pickert and El Mecanico was Pickert's contact in Piedras Negras. And where do we do visa outreach once a week? Piedras. We've got to check the records. I think Miguel is selling visas on the side and Pickert was his wingman."


Lee thinks about Miguel. Overweight, a little nervous sometimes, but generally friendly. And it was Miguel who was with her when they exhumed Pickert. Miguel is a family man. Finally, Lee's thoughts settle on next steps.

"We've got to call Farrington."

"What if Farrington's involved?"

"What are the chances of that?"

"Five percent?"

"Less, I'd say."

Sinclair is already reaching for his cell phone. "Luis. I need to see you today with Lee.”


Back at home Lee finds J.O. in his crate for the first time. "What are you doing in there boy?" J.O. wags his tail, thumping the plastic crate. Usman comes around a corner, trowel in hand. "I taught him today. Easy. He's a smart dog. I can teach him to guard too."

"Well, that could come in handy. I thought you were moving to Monterrey."

“I am. But Flores y Mores told me Isola was still out and I might have this work till the end of summer when school starts. So here I am.”

They chat awhile and it feels easy for Lee to stand close to him. Usman is relaxed. Probably married and happy Lee thinks. Usman hasn't pushed the relationship. Never called from Monterrey. Today he is cordial. A gentleman.

"Do you want the birdbath on the north side, then you can see the birds from your window?"

"No, let's keep it here. It gets a lot of shade."

Usman nods thoughtfully.

"Lee, what should I tell my friend, he has a visa interview tomorrow. Is it really hard to get a visa?"

Lee rolls her eyes. "Usman, one more visa question and you won't have to worry about where to put my birdbath, you'll need to worry about a new job!"


*25*


Farrington greets Ambassador Seele at La Posada hotel where they will have lunch. The Ambassador is a big man, well over six feet. He likes a cigar and he fills the room with his presence. He starts in with Farrington. "I understand you've been knee deep in this drug war business with quite a few interesting American citizen cases?" The Ambassador leans in towards Farrington.

Farrington holds his ground. "Yes sir." We've had a series of kidnappings. All unsolved. From the FBI we believe all of the kidnap victims to date have been killed, except the two most recent. Fatima Jimenez and Tony Santaglio, or Dice, a male prostitute who was also an informant for us. We were hoping Dice might have information for us on another important case, the murder of an American prisoner in Piedras Negras. Fatima, the young girl, was not into drugs at all, so she is a bit of a puzzle, but Dice lived in Boy's Town, so he knew things and he was in a dangerous place. We think Fatima was visiting and got caught up in the violence, but so far we have no proof."

"Well, you wouldn't work on the case any less hard if she were into drugs, would you?" The Ambassador asks.

"No sir," Farrington answers, "not at all, but if drugs explain the murder that rules out other troublesome theories. If, as we suspect, that she and her friend are not involved in the drug trade that means we need to study the possibility that they were kidnapped for knowing something about Pickert. Or, it could mean a rise in express kidnappings, something we'd want to warn American tourists about. I'd like your approval for a travel advisory for Americans. As it is, we've got our work cut out for us but an advisory might cut down on more collateral damage in this drug war."

"Anything new on the Pickert murder? Are the Mexicans prosecuting anyone?" The Ambassador sits back in his chair.

"No sir. The prison transferred all of the suspects to Monterrey. Then the Prison Director was fired. They haven't appointed a new Director yet. The place is a mess."

"What do you think we should do?" The