A few minutes passed before Jones spoke again. When he finally did, there was a confidence in his voice that had been missing earlier. Plus, his sense of humour had returned.
Jones cleared his throat and pointed towards the sky. ‘Did you see the pterodactyls? They’re particularly lovely this time of year.’
Payne nodded. ‘One just swooped down and snatched a baby off the beach. I was going to save it, but I didn’t want to disturb you.’
‘Thanks, Jon. I appreciate it.’
‘So,’ he said as he pointed towards the back of the Hummer, ‘are you ready to show me what you found? Maria said something about a bomb.’
‘Did she really?’
Payne shrugged. ‘I think she did, but I wasn’t really listening. I was too preoccupied with evasive driving techniques and the threat of aerial pursuit.’
‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’
‘Actually, you’re right. It was kind of fun.’
‘Glad to hear it.’
Payne looked at him and waited for an explanation. ‘So?’
Jones stared back. ‘What?’
‘Don’t play dumb with me! I was in the middle of a productive meeting with Deputy Dawg when I got your text. I think something bad happened to Hamilton, and I was this close to figuring it out. I hope to hell you can shed some light on it.’
‘I think I can.’
‘Well?’
‘Give me a hand with the trunk, and I’ll show you.’
A spare tyre was mounted on the tailgate of the H2. It swung left to right and had to be pushed out of the way before the back window could be lifted open. Payne handled both while Jones removed the last few bungee cords from the rear of the tarp. He would have done it earlier, but he didn’t want to subject his cargo to the elements until it was completely necessary.
Jones spoke as he worked. ‘This is one of those good news/bad news situations. Don’t be blinded by the good until I tell you about the bad.’
‘How bad?’
‘Pretty bad.’
‘OK, I’ll keep that in mind.’
Staring out of the rear of the SUV, Maria saw them removing the final cord from the tarp and decided to take a closer look. After all, this was supposed to be her job, not theirs. She quietly opened her door and slipped out of the vehicle without making a sound. She crept across the rocky shoal until she was close enough to gaze into the back of the H2. When she did, her eyes widened in surprise and a single phrase slipped from her mouth.
Two foreign words that summed up Payne’s feelings as well.
‘Santa Maria!’
29
Tiffany waited for the crowd to disperse before she approached Paco. She had thoroughly enjoyed the walking tour and wanted to ask him a few more questions about the area. She thanked him for his time and tipped him twenty pesos. ‘I thought you did a wonderful job. You were very informative.’
He graciously took the money. ‘And entertaining.’
‘Yes,’ she said, laughing. ‘Informative and entertaining.’
He grinned. ‘Mucho gracias.’
‘If you have a moment, may I ask you another question?’
‘For you, pelirroja, anything.’
She blushed slightly. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention. On most trips, she was rarely noticed. ‘I was wondering about the lake.’
‘Which lake?’
‘Lake, um, Texaco? You know, the one around the city?’
He smiled at her attempt. ‘It is pronounced, Texcoco.’
‘Texcoco,’ she echoed.
He nodded. ‘Texcoco is a lake. Texaco is a petrol station.’
‘Sorry about that. I knew it sounded wrong when I said it.’
‘That is OK. Americans say it like that all the time.’
‘You must get sick of us.’
He shook his head. ‘Not at all. Without dumb Americans, I do not make money!’
She laughed at the comment. She sensed he was only teasing. ‘After that remark, I’m afraid to ask you my question. You’re going to think I’m really stupid.’
‘Not stupid. Just unaware. Most people who live here are unaware, too. Tell me, what brings you to Mexico City?’
‘A business trip.’
‘What kind of business?’
‘International banking. I have a big meeting with a key contributor.’
Paco grinned. ‘See! You are not stupid. You have important job with important company. You are much more important than me. I am just a tour guide. Your question could never be stupid. Tell me, what is question?’
‘You said the Aztecs built their city in the middle of the lake. And the Spanish built this city on top of the Aztec city, right?’
‘That is correct.’
‘That’s what I thought. In that case, what happened to the lake? I don’t remember seeing it when I flew into the airport.’
‘Sadly, the lake is no more. The Spanish killed it.’
‘They killed it? How do you kill a lake?’
‘By building a giant drain to let the water out.’
She stared at him, unsure if he was joking. ‘Are you serious?’
He nodded. ‘Flooding was a problem for the Spanish. They expanded our city without strengthening the levees, and that was big mistake. The flood in 1629 was so bad that parts of the city remained underwater for five years. Eventually, the Spanish crown did something desperate. They built a drain to save the city. First they took our island, then they took our lake.’
‘That’s horrible. I bet the Aztec city looked gorgeous in the middle of the water.’
He shrugged. He had never seen Tenochtitlan. He had been born 500 years too late. ‘I must admit, there is one thing that gives me comfort about the fate of the Aztecs.’
‘What’s that?’ she asked.
He pointed at the Metropolitan Cathedral. It loomed high above the plaza, its bell towers stretching towards the sky. It truly was an impressive church.
She nodded solemnly. ‘Your faith in God.’
He laughed at the suggestion. ‘No! I am not a religious man. I am talking about the building. The building brings me comfort.’
‘You mean its beauty?’
‘I mean its condition. The stupid thing is falling down.’
‘Really?’
He laughed louder. ‘The Spanish thought they were so smart when they drained the lake. But guess what? The water had to go somewhere. In this case, it went under our island. For centuries, it has been eating away at the rock. The lakebed is dry, but our city is sinking — several inches every year. Look at the towers. They are all crooked. I call them the Leaning Towers of Zócalo. I am old man, but my spine is straighter than them. Someday they will fall over. And when they do, I will laugh and thank Cuauhtémoc. I will tell tourists that his ghost knocked them over as revenge for losing his city.’
Until that moment, she hadn’t really noticed the towers. But after his comments, she couldn’t help but notice how crooked they were. ‘I’ll be damned. I totally missed that.’
‘Have you been inside the cathedral?’ he asked.
‘Not yet.’
‘Do not waste your time — unless you like scaffolding. Everywhere you look, there is scaffolding. It is holding up the arches. It is holding up the ceiling. It is even holding up Jesús. He should be on a cross, not on scaffolding. I am not Catholic, and even I know that.’
She fought the urge to smile.
‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘have you heard of “the watch list”?’
‘You mean the criminal watch list?’
He shook his head. ‘I mean, the monument watch list.’