I said, “You think the congressman is campaigning against more funding for Guatemala because he thinks his new wife was once kidnapped by the URNG?”
“We are certain of it.”
“And you think if you can prove the URNG wasn’t involved, the congressman will stop opposing the funding?”
Vega shook his head. “Who can say? But it is impossible to discuss the funding with him and his committee while he continues to believe we attacked his wife. That much I know for certain.”
I stared down the street. The schizophrenic woman had progressed to the middle of the next block west. She stood shouting at a couple of men who sat inside a black Suburban, which was parked at the curb. The snakes among the woman’s things had disappeared, at least for the moment. I wished I knew why. Then maybe I could stop them from returning.
I thought maybe it was because I was distracted by the men in the Suburban. They interested me. Their vehicle was the one that had been behind us on the 405 when I swerved to avoid the leaking gravel from the dump truck. I had no doubt of it. After a few firefights, you develop instincts. And even if it was a coincidence that the their destination was so close to ours, considering my speed of travel while I had been preventing the apparently insane Fidel Castro from shooting me, it seemed strange that the Suburban had arrived so soon after us.
I said, “A few minutes ago, your friend there wanted to put a bullet in me. You have a funny way of hiring people.”
“Mr. Cutter, I am truly sorry that he drew his weapon, but as I have explained, he is a patriot. He has been slightly damaged in his mind because of the sacrifices he made for his country. If you had fought beside such a man, would you not make allowances?”
“All right,” I said. “So you keep him around for old times’ sake. But why are you so gung ho on hiring me? I mean, why me in particular?”
“We have this problem which I have explained, and when I tried to think of who could help us, you were the first person who came to mind. You were the only person, actually, because I remembered what you did while you were in Guatemala.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but Comandante Valentín held up a hand. “Please, I am not asking you for confirmation. I only mention it as part of the answer to your question. I know no other sympathetic person in Los Angeles who might be able to provide this particular service. Or perhaps ‘sympathetic’ is the wrong word. You were not sympathetic to our cause, but you were fair. You listened. You believed your eyes. You opposed Ríos Montt, even though you disagreed with our politics.
“A moment ago you were correct to say I know nothing of what really happened to you in Afghanistan, the reason for your court-martial, but I do know you behaved honorably in Guatemala. You spent enough time there to perhaps begin to understand us. Your Spanish is very good. I know you were attached to the Naval Criminal Investigative Service for a while in some capacity, and now you investigate crimes privately in your country. I also know you have connections with the motion-picture industry, because you work mainly for people in the movie business. That could prove helpful in approaching Doña Elena Montes. You also know some people in your government, but you have no reason to trust them blindly. In all of this world, I think there is no one as well qualified as you to help us with our problem.”
I said, “It’s good to know you like my resume. But I still don’t get it. Why now? Why wait seven years to prove the URNG’s innocence?”
Vegas shrugged. “That is simple. Congressman Montes did not become a problem until this year, when he married Doña Elena.”
“All right. So the congressman is outraged at what he thinks your people did to his brand-new wife. Why not go to the police instead of me?”
“We tried. But they have no interest in proving we are innocent. They say the case is… I believe the expression is ‘cold,’ yes? And they care only about capturing Alejandra Delarosa.”
“Call me crazy,” I said, “but since Delarosa is the woman in the video, the one holding a gun to Doña Elena’s head and wearing a URNG uniform, it kind of makes me think the police have their priorities in order.”
“Yes, of course she is guilty of the crime. We do not disagree. We only say she is not one of us, and she has never been one of us, so she did not kidnap Doña Elena or kill Toledo on our behalf.”
“Okay. If your reasons are so honorable, tell me why you’re using this Mr. Brown alias.”
“It is said the war is over in my country, Mr. Cutter, but it has only slipped beneath the surface, as your cold war with the Soviets once did. As a leader of my party, I remain a target. There have been three attempts on my life in the past two years alone. And if our enemies among the military junta knew that I was here, they would stop at nothing to prevent me from succeeding in my mission. It is they who have provided asylum to the drug traffickers, you see. That is why we need that money from your war on drugs. We are still fighting for the life of Guatemala, and it is still a fight to the death. So I am forced to hide my presence here, as I am forced to hide most of the time in my own country.”
The poor sick woman down the street had stopped harassing the two men in the black Suburban and was now sifting through a trash can near their front bumper.
Watching her I said, “All right. I’ve been having a little trouble concentrating lately, so let me make sure I have this straight. The Delarosa woman kidnapped Doña Elena before she was a big movie star and murdered Doña Elena’s first husband, Arturo Toledo, who was some kind of war criminal, in your opinion. You say Delarosa was only pretending to do it for the URNG. That didn’t bother you much until Doña Elena married a congressman who got his feelings hurt because he thinks your group mistreated his new wife. Now he’s threatening to withhold foreign aid to your political party in Guatemala. You think maybe you can get the congressman off your back by proving Alejandra Delarosa had nothing to do with the URNG. You tried to get the police to help, and when that didn’t work, you thought of me.”
Vega drew himself up, or tried to draw himself up, to look down his nose at me. It wasn’t easy, since he was quite short. He said, “You make it all sound very trivial, Mr. Cutter, but this is a matter of justice. The Unidad Revolucionaria Nacional Guatemalteca has been falsely implicated. We did nothing to Doña Elena, and we did not kill the criminal Toledo, although of course he did deserve to die.”
I flicked my fingers just a little, waving his statement away. “Maybe so. Maybe not. Either way, I can’t help you.”
Vega seemed to shrink as quickly as he had drawn himself up. “Please, Mr. Cutter. Ours is a poor country, and our movement is a movement of the people. But we can offer you twenty thousand dollars.”
“You’d be wasting your money. There’s nothing I could do that wasn’t done already by the police seven years ago when the evidence was fresh.”
“But as I said, they were focused on capturing the kidnapper, Alejandra Delarosa. They were not interested in proving that she has no connection to the URNG. Your questions will be different.”
“I have other commitments.”
“Surely not, since you were just released from the hospital.” He cocked his head slightly, looking at me as though the distance between us was much greater than it was. I looked back at him, not liking how much he seemed to know about me. He continued, “There is also your last client to consider. Can you truly have so much business after making a mistake like that?”
I felt the swirling distance rise behind my eyelids. The numbing unreality. I tried to remember the sessions, the advice from the professionals in lab coats. Focus on the truth you know. Be in this world now. Find what’s real and cling to it. I recalled something a marine chaplain had sent me on a get-well card, all the way from Afghanistan: “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” But the simple fact was that I had sat by doing nothing on the night Haley died.