The Black Ice (hb-2)
dollars each for checks issued by EnviroBreed Inc. Bosch put the check stubs into his pocket and told Aguila he was ready to go.
While Aguila expressed condolences again to the new widow, Bosch went to the trunk of the car to put away the fingerprint kit and the cards with the lifts he had taken. He looked over the trunk lid and saw Aguila still standing with Munoz and the woman. Harry quickly lifted up the rug on the right side of the trunk, pulled up the spare tire and grabbed his Smith. He put the gun in his holster and slid it around on his waist so that the gun would be on his back. It was under his jacket but an eye looking for such things could see it. However, Bosch was no longer worried about Aguila. He got in the car and waited. Aguila got in a few moments later.
Bosch watched the widow and the sheriff in the rear view mirror as they drove away.
“What will happen with her now?” he asked Aguila.
“You don’t want to know, Detective Bosch. Her life was difficult before. Now, her hardships will only multiply. I believe she cries for herself as much as her lost husband. And rightly so.”
Bosch drove in silence until they were out of Lost Souls and back on the main road.
“That was clever, what you did back there,” he said after a while. “With the coffee cans.”
Aguila didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Bosch knew he had been in there before and had seen the EnviroBreed stubs. Grena was scamming and Aguila didn’t like it or approve of it or maybe he was just unhappy because he hadn’t been cut in on the deal. Whatever the reason, he was pointing Bosch in the right direction. Aguila wanted Bosch to find the stubs. He wanted Bosch to know Grena was a liar.
“Did you go to EnviroBreed, check it out on your own?”
“No,” Aguila said. “This would be reported to my captain. I could not go there after he had made the appropriate inquiry. EnviroBreed is involved in international business. It holds contracts with government agencies in the United States. You must understand, it is a…”
“Delicate situation?”
“Yes, this is true.”
“I’m familiar with those. I understand. You can’t buck Grena but I can. Where is EnviroBreed?”
“Not far from here. To the southwest, where the land is mostly flat until it rises into the Sierra de los Cucapah. There are many industrial concerns there and large ranches.”
“And how close is it between EnviroBreed and the ranch owned by the pope?”
“The pope?”
“Zorrillo. The pope of Mexicali. I thought you wanted to know about the other case I’m working.”
They drove a little bit in silence. Bosch looked over and saw that Aguila’s face had clouded. Even with the mirrors, Bosch could see this. His mention of Zorrillo probably confirmed a suspicion the Mexican detective had held since Grena had tried to derail the investigation. Bosch already knew from Corvo that EnviroBreed was just across the highway from the ranch. His question was merely one more test of Aguila.
It was a while before Aguila finally answered.
“The ranch and EnviroBreed are very close, I’m afraid.”
“Good. Show me.”
Chapter 22
“Let me ask you a question,” Bosch said. “How come you sent that inquiry to the consul’s office? I mean, you don’t have missing persons down here. Somebody turns up missing, they crossed the border but you don’t send out inquiries. What made you think this was different?”
They were heading toward the range of mountains that rose high above a layer of light brown smog from the city. They were going southwest on Avenida Val Verde and were moving through an area where ranch lands extended to the west and industrial parks lined the roadway to the east.
“The woman convinced me,” Aguila said. “She came to the plaza with the sheriff and made the report. Grena gave me the investigation and her words convinced me that Gutierrez-Llosa would not cross the border willingly-without her. So I went to the circle.”
Aguila said the circle below the golden statue of Benito Juarez on Calzado Lopez Mateos was where men went to wait for work. Other day laborers interviewed at the circle said the EnviroBreed vans came two or three times a week to hire workers. The men who had worked at the bug-breeding plant had described it as difficult work. They made food paste for the breeding process and loaded heavy incubation cartons into the vans. Flies constantly flew in their mouths and eyes. Many who had worked there
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