Mickey rewound the red strand the other way, muttering under his breath. The gold threads from his fingers caught on the hairs in the bundle, caught in the twist of the thread and bound up, muttering with Mickey, singing magic, alive and golden and hot as the sun.
Hector and Maria-Luz stepped backward, back, back, fading as they went, until they were only a whisper and a shred of smoke on the air. Iko stopped whining.
A hush fell, as if all the spirits of San Felipe del Agua held their breath. Mickey tied off the string. "There. OK? You think?" he asked, holding it out. But there was no one left to see it but me and Tio Munoz.
The old man had come up on us without any warning or apparent movement.
"Muy bien!" he cackled.
Mickey started with surprise, jumping to his feet. The old man backed away, chuckling.
"Where did they all go?" Mickey asked, bewildered.
"Back where they came from, I'd guess. The sailors took Jimenez—I think he may be in for some trouble in the afterlife," I said.
"Good!" Mickey spat.
"And Maria-Luz and her father went… wherever."
"To Mictlan," Mickey corrected. "I think."
"Not so sure now?"
"I–I'm not sure about much…."
Well, that was a change. But I didn't comment. Instead I said, "I think we can go now, if you want to."
"I guess. We can leave the ofrenda. No one will steal from ghosts."
We started back through the crowds, the music and laughter jarring against the strangeness of the night. Mickey handed me the bag of clay pieces and the knotted bit of hair, magic, and string as we approached the gate.
"Where's Iko?"
I pointed at the gate, where the dog had appeared again, looking more like a real dog than ever. Mickey grinned and went to pat the little mongrel, carefully, as if he wasn't sure his hand could really touch it.
"Gracias, Senorita Blaine."
I turned, not at all surprised to find Tio Munoz behind me.
"For what?" I asked.
"For helping him find a better path. He was headed for bad things."
"I just do what the choreographer tells me. What are you going to do now?"
He laughed. "I think that is up to Miguel. What about you? You are finished here."
I nodded. "Yeah. Here. But there's one thing left in Mexico City."
Munoz shook his head. "Justice may be hard to serve with only the word of ghosts."
"That depends on which sort of justice you're talking about."
He seemed pleased by that and nodded his head. Then he turned and walked away into the night.
Mickey and Iko ran up to me, the dog grinning a satisfied doggy smile, not nearly as tentative as Mickey's.
We walked back to the Chevy and got in. This time, Iko jumped in and curled on the floorboards at my feet.
As we drove back down the hill, Mickey cleared his throat and glanced at me.
"What?"
"Uh… so. What now?"
"Now, I'm done. I get to go home. By way of Mexico City. And Mr. Banda's office. Maria-Luz and Hector still have a little payback coming."
"And the guys from the Dukia."
I nodded. "I think I have a way to set things up as Maria-Luz wanted them. And I won't mind giving Banda a good scare."
"I low's it going In work?"
"I'll give the bundle to Banda, so he becomes the vessel—I can figure out how. Then he'll be stuck with Iko until he dies, or you let Iko go."
"Can I do that?"
"Yeah. You'll figure it out." I had.
He made a thoughtful frown and was silent for a while. Then he said, "I think I must have missed something. Why did they kill the sailors?"
"That was an accident, but it didn't matter to Arbildo and Jimenez that they died. The boat was old and the company was in a temporary financial crisis. So Arbildo decided to sink it—have a little accident at sea—and collect the insurance. The sailors were just in the way. Except for Hector. Who'd been having an affair with Arbildo's wife."
"Yeah, I got that. Maria-Luz was Hector's daughter, really."
"That's right. He followed her mother to Mexico City. I think Arbildo must have caught on and so Hector did his first disappearing act. He abandoned his real identity as Estancio Rivera and took on the name Hector Purecete, Senora Acoa's long-lost relative. Estancio was from Oaxaca—he worked in the mezcal distillery down the mountain—and he'd seen the name on the headstone in the Panteon San Miguel just like we did. He got a job with the Arbildo shipping company as Hector so he could still be near Consuela and their daughter. While he was at sea, Consuela died and she probably let his new identity slip as she was dying. So Arbildo decided to get rid of his wife's lover once and for all."
"But… Hector called his daughter Carmencita…."
"That was Maria-Luz's middle name: Carmen. They probably called her that so it was less likely they'd trip up in front of Leon Arbildo—but he knew."
Mickey continued to frown. "I'm still not sure I get it…."
"Arbildo sank his ship with the help of his trusty henchman Jimenez, and he didn't let on to anyone that Maria-Luz was not his daughter."
"Why didn't he just… have another kid?"
"Last night, I saw hundreds of dead kids in the cemetery. They were all Arbildo children. I'm not sure what the problem is, genetics, bad luck, a curse… but whatever it is, the Arbildos don't have healthy kids. They die young. Only one or two make it to carry on the family name. Consuela had four children, but only Maria-Luz made it past the age of three. Leon Arbildo didn't have any surviving brothers or sisters, or any other kids. He had to have Maria-Luz and she had to be his daughter, unequivocally.
"He was a very proud man—a jealous man, too," I continued. "And Catholic. The illegitimacy thing was not acceptable. He had Maria-Luz watched, the same way he'd had Consuela watched. She must have known she was watched and been resentful. She started doing black magic to hurt him—she got thrown out of school for it a couple of times. When she finally met Hector and found out he was her real father, that's when the hate started. But Arbildo got even: he died and he left the estate in the hands of the lawyers who'd helped him in the past."
"And they kept on watching her and manipulating her, right?"
"Yeah. And they kept right on doing all the same things they'd done for her father and not telling her they did it. They drove Hector into hiding, and when he died, Maria-Luz had nothing left but the dog and her hate. She started trying to find out about her real father, so she went to Oaxaca a lot, looking for his family or his grave or whatever she could get. She laid that false trail for us with the Registrar of Deaths to confuse her lawyers in case they were keeping track of her. We know Jimenez had tracked the graves, but so long as she didn't show up there, he'd never know she'd discovered the truth and he'd never be able to stop her plans for revenge."
"But she changed her mind!"
"Yeah, she did. Because she found out about the Dulcia. She decided justice was better than vengeance and, again, she left a puzzle for someone—me—to solve that would reveal the truth."
"She was devious, that Maria-Luz."
I smiled. "Yeah."
We pulled into the tiny covered carriageway of the guesthouse and I stumbled out of the car, suddenly exhausted.
Mickey caught my arm. "Hey… uh… you leaving soon? 'Cause I still got a lot of questions."
"Sorry, Mickey. I have to go tomorrow."
"Oh."
The church bells from the zocalo rang the quarter hour. I checked my watch; it was still early for Oaxaca on el Dia de los Muertos—only ten fifteen. But it felt like two a.m.
We walked up the stairs to my room, the house still quiet while everyone was at the cemetery. I stopped and studied Mickey as he waited for me to unlock my door. He was tired, but standing straighten His sullen look had changed into a thoughtful frown as he tried to understand what had happened and what might happen next.