A dark Chevrolet stopped in front of number 64 and a military officer got out. García drew his gun and approached as the officer was standing in front of the door.
“Let’s go inside, General. I think Mr. del Valle is waiting for us.”
“Who are you?”
“Ring the doorbell, General. No reason to talk out here in the street.”
At that moment the door opened and del Valle appeared. There was enough light from inside for him to recognize García.
“I told you not to come for half an hour.”
“Yes, Mr. del Valle, but here I am. Let’s go inside.”
They went in and García closed the door. Del Valle said:
“We’ll go into my office.”
They followed him. The room was large, the walls covered with bookshelves and hung with paintings.
“Have a seat,” del Valle said.
He seemed to have recovered his composure.
“I’ll stand, if you don’t mind, Mr. del Valle,” García said.
“Is this García?” the general asked.
“Filiberto García, at your service, General.”
“From what they tell me, you’ve been stirring up trouble. They hired you to conduct an investigation, you did it, and your job is over. If you want some money, a hundred or two hundred pesos, we’ll give it to you and that’ll be the end of it.”
García, still standing, was looking down at General Miraflores. The general felt uncomfortable in his chair. Del Valle sat down behind his desk.
“The whole business was poorly planned, General,” García said.
“So, that’s what you think. What do you know?”
“The people you hired are no good for a job like this. This time, it’s not some two-bit small-town mayor you’re trying to get rid of. .”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, García.”
“People like your friends the Toad, Luciano Manrique, and that gringo Browning, General. The Toad and the gringo could expose you. Manrique can’t, because I already killed him.”
“They don’t know anything,” del Valle said.
“But they know someone who does know, Mr. del Valle. That’s why I’m telling you the whole thing is poorly planned.”
“What do you want, García?” the general asked, curtly.
“Are you going to go ahead with your plans?”
“I don’t know what you’re —”
“It’s useless, Miraflores,” del Valle interrupted. “García already knows too much.”
“Seems you’re right.”
“Let me think, García.”
Del Valle remained sitting behind his desk. Here we are, talking, as if this was just a business deal, and there’s Marta all alone. Alone with her death. For us, time is passing, time is running out, but for Marta, there’s no time anymore.
“Look, García,” del Valle finally said. “You’ve said you don’t have any political sympathies, that you just follow orders.” He was speaking with difficulty, as if he couldn’t find the words in his head. “You aren’t a Communist and you aren’t an anti-Communist, you aren’t a friend of the gringos or against the gringos. You just follow orders. The only reason I agreed to let them hire you to work with the Chinese is because they convinced me that was the case. But now I don’t understand whose orders you’re carrying out. This morning I told you to quit the investigation, and the colonel corroborated. Why have you kept on it?”
“Orders.”
“From the colonel?”
“Yes.”
“Because of your suspicions?
“Yes.”
“I understand. Now, Mr. García, you know that I have more authority than the colonel.”
He paused without taking his eyes off García’s impassive face or the gun in García’s hand.
“I’m going to be the president of the republic, García. It’s in your interest to be on friendly terms with the future president, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do.”
General Miraflores stood up.
“You are a military man, García, so this will interest you. When Mr. del Valle is president, we military men will return to the position we’ve always deserved and that the last few civilian governments have taken away from us. And after Mr. del Valle, I, a military man will be president, because we military men, we soldiers, we are and always have been the most important group in this country. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, García?”
“I sure would.”
“Then you should help us make that happen,” del Valle continued. “When, tomorrow, this minor incident is over, I am going to be president, and we are going to lead Mexico along the road to real progress, with strong and respected authority, and we will have a strong and respectable armed forces.”
“An army that will be respected all over the world, García. And you will be part of it,” the general asserted.
“As you see,” del Valle continued, “we have not become involved in this dangerous mission out of personal interest or ambition. Love of our nation obliges us to act in this way, against our principles. I can assure you that the new government, the one that will take over tomorrow, needs brave men like you —”
“Moreover, García,” the general interrupted again, “you should consider this an order, a military order. I speak to you as an army general.”
“Yes.”
“So, you agree,” del Valle affirmed.
“Of course he agrees,” the satisfied general said. “One death more, one death less, that’s not something that scares off a man like our friend García. .”
The general laughed smugly. García took one step right up to him, and stared at him straight in the eyes.
“There’s already been one death too many, General,” he said.
The general stopped laughing.
“One death scares you off? I thought you were a man —”
In one quick move of García’s hand, the.45 traced a short curve and smashed into the general’s face. The gunsight on the barrel cut into his flesh and blood spurted out. The general staggered backward.
“Don’t say that, General. I already told you, there’s been one death too many in this business. Don’t put your hand into the drawer, Mr. del Valle. Come over here, slowly, so you won’t be tempted. And don’t you move, General.”
“You’re crazy, García,” del Valle said, approaching him.
“Yes, I am.”
“You’ve always been a hired gun. .”
“Yes, Mr. del Valle. I’ve always been a hired gun, but now I told you there was one death too many.”
“I thought you were with us, that you agreed to what we were offering you,” del Valle said.
The general wiped the blood off his face. Some had dripped onto his uniform, possibly staining it for the first time with his own blood.
“This is going to cost you dearly, García. You don’t hit a Mexican general and get away with it.”
García looked at them in silence, his eyes as cold as ice.
“What do you want, García?” del Valle asked. “Everything is perfectly arranged, and there’s just been one minor setback. I know the police found Browning’s hotel.”
“Everything is dis-arranged, Mr. del Valle. Better said, everything was dis-arranged from the get-go. Ever since you wanted to be clever and take advantage of the rumor about the Chinese attack. Ever since you insisted on them hiring me for the investigation, certain that I would fall right into the trap and swear there was a Mongolian conspiracy after I woke up from the blow Luciano Manrique, may he rest in peace, was going to give me. Ever since you made me work with the gringo and the Russian. Ever since you chose this general as your partner and you had him assemble the necessary people, his people, people who can’t even piss straight. And, above all, ever since this afternoon when you sent someone to my house to give me a warning and you killed. .”