She took a wild guess. ‘Fifty thousand.’
He signalled lower. ‘Try again.’
‘Twenty thousand.’
He shook his head. ‘Would you believe, three?’
‘Wow! Three thousand is pretty small.’
‘Not three thousand,’ he said, laughing. ‘I’m talking three — as in one, two, three.’
The number shocked her. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’
‘I assure you, my dear, I’m completely serious. I can’t tell you how much money I’ve won over the years with that bit of trivia.’
‘Three people? How is that possible?’
He explained. ‘Back then, this entire stretch of land was part of a coconut plantation owned by Don José Gutiérrez. The only full-time residents of Cancún were the three caretakers of the plantation. I jokingly call them the Three Amigos.’
Maria shook her head in amazement. Based on everything she’d seen from the air, she had assumed Cancún had been around for centuries. ‘What happened in 1970?’
‘Well,’ he said as he stuffed another tortilla chip in his mouth, ‘the Mexican government realized how important tourism could be for the local economy, so they financed the first nine hotels in the region and poured money into the infrastructure. Their goal was to build the best resort city in the Caribbean. Amazingly, they pulled it off in less than twenty years.’
‘That is amazing.’
‘Granted, there have been some bumps in the road over the past four decades — most notably Hurricane Gilbert and Hurricane Wilma — but that hasn’t hurt the population growth in the city. It’s practically doubled in size in the last ten years.’
Maria sipped her daiquiri, trying to remember how they had started on the topic. Mentally she traced the line of questioning back to when she had asked about Hamilton’s time in the city. She had assumed he was based locally since they were meeting at the Fiesta Americana, but he said he had been in Cancún for less than an hour.
‘So,’ she asked, ‘where is your team stationed?’
‘Wherever our research takes us. Right now less than a hundred miles from here.’
‘Anywhere in particular?’
‘Yes,’ he said cryptically as he dug through the wicker basket for the perfect-sized chip. ‘But if it’s OK with you, I’d rather focus on your role in things, not mine. I’m sure you must be wondering why we brought you here on such short notice.’
She nodded. ‘The question has crossed my mind.’
‘Any theories?’
‘Plenty. Including some I’d rather not share.’
He laughed at the insinuation. Somehow her statement had been playful and accusatory at the same time. ‘Now you’ve gone and done it. After a comment like that, I’m afraid you have to share.’
‘I’d rather not.’
‘I’m afraid you must. My reputation as a gentleman is at stake!’
She blushed, realizing she had little choice but to explain her remark. ‘OK. But please keep something in mind: I had these thoughts before I knew anything about you, your research, or all the awards you’ve won in the field of anthropology.’
He grinned. ‘If you’re buttering me up, this has got to be good.’
She nodded, then took a sip of her drink for some liquid courage. ‘What can I say? A man I’ve never met calls me out of the blue and offers to fly me halfway around the world and put me up at a five-star resort for the weekend. What do you think I thought?’
‘That I was a dirty old man looking for action.’
‘Actually, I didn’t know you were old during our initial phone call, but I did think you were dirty. I didn’t find out about your age until I researched you on the Internet.’
He gasped in mock horror. ‘Wait! Did you just call me old?’
She nodded. ‘However, I no longer think you’re dirty.’
‘Well then,’ he toasted, ‘here’s to small victories.’
She clinked his glass and smiled. ‘Trust me, it’s a major victory in my eyes. Normally it takes a very long time to get on my good side. Yet you’ve managed to do it in two days.’
‘That’s the daiquiri talking.’
‘Maybe a little. But I think it’s more than that. I think it’s your passion for history. That’s what convinced me to accept your offer.’
‘My passion?’
She nodded. ‘Like I said, I looked you up on the Internet after you called. I wanted to get a better feel for your personality before I took a job so far from home, so I watched several of your lectures online. Let me tell you, I was impressed. Your passion for history oozed through the screen. No wonder you’ve won so many awards.’
Now it was Hamilton’s turn to blush. ‘Believe me, I don’t do it for awards. I do it for myself. In my opinion, there’s nothing better than making a discovery about the world we live in. It’s the reason I live in a tent eleven months a year, the reason I never settled down or got married. History is my first and only love. It’s the reason I breathe.’
‘Yep. That’s the passion I was talking about.’
He shrugged. ‘I can’t help it. That’s who I am.’
She shook her head. ‘Never apologize for passion. Like I said, it’s the main reason I’m here. I figured, if you’ve discovered something so secretive that you couldn’t tell me about it over the phone, then it was bound to be important.’
‘Trust me, it is.’
She studied his face. ‘How important are we talking?’
The cocksure grin returned to his lips. ‘Very.’
7
In the last decade, Mexico has passed Colombia as the drug-trafficking centre of the Americas, creating an atmosphere of crime and corruption. Border towns like Tijuana and Ciudad Juárez are particularly violent — the 2009 murder rate in Juárez was the highest in the world by more than 25 per cent — but in terms of the sheer number of crimes, it’s hard to beat Mexico City.
With a population of over 21 million and a police force that is undersized and underpaid, no one knows how many crimes actually occur in the capital city as most of them go unreported, a combination of distrust in the local police and a fear of retribution by criminals. The United Nations estimates that nearly 90 per cent of all the cocaine sold in the United States is smuggled through Mexico, which is also the main foreign supplier of marijuana in America. With so much money at stake, it’s cheaper for cartels to bribe the police in the federal district than to lose their products in raids.
Violent crimes are always a concern when drugs are involved, but most drug-related shootings take place in impoverished areas that are recognized as trouble zones. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about kidnappings. In Mexico City, they can happen at any time and in any place. And they happen with disturbing frequency. Last year, more than a thousand occurred in the metro politan area, but experts believe that less than a quarter of all local kidnappings are reported. Assuming this is true, that’s an average of more than ten kidnappings a day in a single city.
Ten abductions a day. Every day. In one city.
Obviously, kidnappings are big business in this region. Tactics and techniques are practised on the street. Vehicles are painted to resemble taxis or police cars. Foreign phrases are learned, so criminals can make efficient demands from tourists. When the clock is ticking and weapons are involved, communication is vital, especially in the modern world of technology, where bank accounts are just sitting there, waiting to be exploited.