39

HIDDEN ENEMIES

The first blow came one morning after lista. Abregon came rushing up behind me as I was returning to my room. He was flushed and out of breath. He didn’t even have time to say hello.

‘Thomas, they’re transferring me to Chonchocoro,’ he panted.

‘What?’ I looked at him in amazement. Abregon nodded that I’d heard correctly. I hardly knew what to say. It was everyone’s worst nightmare to be sent to maximum security. The conditions up there were horrible. It was even colder at night because of the 4000-metre altitude; the cells were small and bare; the guards were tough; and the prisoners were even tougher. Compared with Chonchocoro, San Pedro was a holiday resort. ‘But what for?’ I asked.

‘They won’t say.’

‘But they have to tell you the reason. They need an order from the judge, don’t they? Just wait. I’ll ring the governor.’

‘It’s too late for that. They’re taking me now.’

‘When?’

‘Right now.’ At that moment, we heard Abregon’s name being called from down in the courtyard. I looked over the balcony and saw the lieutenant and two guards striding purposefully towards the stairs.

‘Here. Take my spare key,’ Abregon said urgently, struggling to twist a silver key off his key ring. He held it out to me, his hands shaking slightly. ‘You remember where everything is hidden?’

I nodded. The second floorboard back from the wall, directly beneath his chest of drawers, was loose. He placed the key in my palm, but when I went to take my hand away, he wouldn’t let it go. His fingers wrapped tighter around my hand, with his thumb pressing down on the key. ‘I’m trusting you, my brother.’ He squeezed even harder. ‘You understand?’

‘Why? How much is in there?’

‘Twenty thousand,’ he whispered, releasing his grip just as the lieutenant and his men rounded the first flight of stairs.

‘Why don’t you take something with you now?’ I asked quickly, slipping the key into my pocket before the police could see it.

‘Too dangerous. They’ll search me as soon as I get there. The cops wouldn’t leave me with a fucking boliviano. I’ll send Raquel to pick up some plata.’

The guards had reached the top of the stairs by then and were coming towards us.

‘ Vamos,’ ordered the lieutenant, nodding to his men to take Abregon.

‘I trust you like a brother, Thomas,’ he said again, looking me hard in the eyes. I winked at him to say that I wouldn’t let him down, then they took him away.

Taking hold of one arm each, the two guards guided him down the stairs with the lieutenant leading the way. Abregon looked back over his shoulder at me and managed to get one arm free.

‘I’ll call you,’ he mouthed, holding his free hand up to his ear like a telephone.

He did call eventually. But this was the last time I ever saw him alive.

I found out through some contacts in the prison administration that Abregon had been reclassified as a high-risk inmate. The reason: planning to escape. They could give me no further details, other than to say that someone had tipped the guards off about his intentions to escape. Abregon was known to have money and a lot of influence inside the prison, so the police believed it might be true.

It was clear that someone was plotting against Abregon, but we didn’t know who and there was nothing more I could do to help him until he phoned. Once he had some money with him, I was confident that Abregon could fix the problem. He probably could have bribed his way out before he was transferred, but he never got the chance. It had all happened too quickly.

I told our friends to keep their phones switched on and waited for Abregon’s call. He didn’t ring me, but after five days his wife, Raquel, arrived to collect the money.

‘How much does he want?’ I asked her.

‘All of it.’

‘Everything?’ I asked in surprise.

She shrugged casually. ‘That’s what he said.’

It didn’t sound smart to take all the money in one go like that. But it was Abregon’s money and I presumed he knew what he was doing. I gave her the twenty thousand and made her sign a letter and count the money in front of Julián, our new section delegate.

Abregon’s call came two days later. I woke to someone banging on my door in the middle of the night and I opened it, still half asleep. It was Orlando. He was wearing only his pyjamas and he was wet from running barefoot through the rain to bring me his phone. He was too out of breath to say who it was, but I guessed straight away.

‘Is it him?’ I asked, taking the phone. Orlando nodded then stood shivering in the cold while I took the call.

‘¿Aló?’

‘Thomas, you have to listen to me,’ I recognised Abregon’s voice, but the line was terrible.

‘Speak up, brother – I can hardly hear you!’ I yelled into the phone, but Orlando motioned for me to keep my voice down.

‘Listen to me, Thomas. I can’t talk long. I’m on someone else’s phone.’

‘OK,’ I whispered loudly, holding the mouthpiece right up against my lips. Orlando nodded that that was better.

‘Thomas, I need money. I need you to get my money to me. I think I can get transferred back to San Pedro, but I’m going to need money. I’ll send Raquel around to pick it up. Get it ready for her, OK?’

‘Yes, I know. She already came.’

‘What?’

I was suddenly wide awake. ‘She was here two days ago. I gave her everything.’

‘When?’

‘Two days ago. On visitors’ day.’ I wasn’t sure if it was the bad connection or if Abregon had fallen silent on the other end. ‘Are you there? Hello … Abregon? Can you hear me?’ The line was still crackling so I moved around, changing the angle of the phone to get better reception. ‘Abregon?’ Finally, he answered.

‘What the fuck did you do that for?’ he asked angrily.

‘I didn’t want to without speaking to you first, but she said it was for you, so I gave it to her. Julián was there, if you don’t believe me. I made her count the money in front of him and sign for it.’

‘OK, OK. I need to think.’ He sounded panicky. ‘Have you seen her since?’

‘No. But she said she was going straight up to visit you. Didn’t she come?’

‘That bitch hasn’t visited me once.’

‘I’m sorry, brother. She said you had asked for it. She’s your wife – what was I supposed to do? I had no way of calling you up there.’

I had difficulty hearing his response, but I thought he said, ‘She’s not my wife.’

‘Pardon?’ I moved the phone around again.

‘Doesn’t matter. Anyway, listen, Thomas. Try to find her. Ring my house. Ring everyone you can. I’ll try to find her too, but in the meantime, I need you to send me money with one of the wives you can trust. Right now. Anything. I’m desperate here, brother. I’ve got nothing.’

‘I’ll try, but I’ve got nothing either.’

‘Well, then get the fucking money back that you made me lend to the Velascos. Do whatever you have to.’

The line then cut out. I didn’t know whether he had to hang up or if we just lost the connection, but I had no way of calling him back. I forced Orlando to wait for ten minutes longer in case Abregon tried to phone again, and during that time I started to think about how it was all my fault for having given the money to his wife. The only thing I could do to make it up to him was to get the money back from the Velascos.

I couldn’t get back to sleep at all that night. Thinking about Abregon suffering in Chonchocoro made every one of my muscles tense up. All the Velascos had to do was what was right in the first place: pay back the money. I’d sent them several messages since Abregon had been transferred, but they never answered. Abregon had saved the son’s wife from going to jail, but now that he was in trouble himself, they refused to help. They were too cheap to admit the debt and too cowardly to face us. By morning, I was ready to kill them.

After lista I got even more wound up. Although I hadn’t eaten breakfast, I did a line of coke and sent for Lucho. While I waited for him, the effects came on. I paced the room back and forth. I could feel my heart rate going up. I began having violent flashes of what I was going to do as soon as I saw them and found myself throwing punches into the air and thumping my fist down on the table every time I went past it. Lucho knocked. I did another line before opening the door, then we went hunting for the Velascos immediately. Lucho already knew the story and didn’t ask any questions. He wasn’t there for his speaking ability and, besides, the time for talking was over.

The first thing we did was check their room. We listened at the door for a few minutes before knocking, but they either weren’t in or they had been warned and were keeping very quiet. After that, we had no real plan; we simply walked around the prison, looking for them. I asked anyone we saw who might know them. I wasn’t even polite about it.

‘Where are the Velascos?’ I demanded, skipping the niceties.

No one liked to get involved in these disputes so they all gave the same answer: ‘Don’t know’ or ‘Try their room in San Martín. They should be there.’

‘Tell them we’re looking for them,’ I called over my shoulder as we walked off without saying goodbye or thank you.

We hunted for about thirty minutes but couldn’t find them anywhere. Lucho wanted to keep looking, but by then the cocaine had worn off, and with no alcohol in my system I was left feeling a bit shaky and weak, so I decided to go back to my room and try again in the afternoon. I did some more coke. When later I still couldn’t find them, I knew for certain that the Velascos were deliberately avoiding me. But they couldn’t hide forever.

Later that week, Lucho came to warn me. ‘You’re messing with the wrong people, inglés.’ He only ever called me inglés when he wanted me to listen carefully.

‘What exactly do you mean by that?’

‘They’ve got people everywhere in here. And family connections on the outside. Jorge’s uncle is a colonel in the army.’

‘But it’s only what is right. Everyone knows they owe the money. Abregon is desperate.’

Lucho shook his head. ‘You’re heading for trouble, inglés. That money’s never coming back. If Abregon needs plata, then get it from somewhere else.’

Lucho always knew what was going on in the inside sections, but I ignored his advice. I was angry. It had been six months since the Velascos were supposed to have repaid the debt. I knew they didn’t have much money anymore, but they could have paid it off a bit at a time. Any amount would have helped Abregon. Without money, you could die in Chonchocoro. I kept on doing coke and looking for them on my own.

Two days later, as I was heading into San Martín to visit Lucho, I saw the Velascos up ahead, coming towards me in the corridor. They were talking together and hadn’t noticed me yet. I would have preferred to have someone with me, but I knew that this might be the only opportunity I got and even though I was on my own, I couldn’t let them get away. I pulled the collar on my jacket up to hide my face and kept my head bowed until the last possible moment. As soon as I drew next to them, I threw my hands at their throats and pushed them both against the wall, hard.

‘Where’s the money, you bastards? Abregon’s in Chonchocoro. We need the money.’

They were both taken completely by surprise and the blow to their throats had them gasping for air, so at first they couldn’t even respond. But when Jose Luis recovered his breath, he started to fight back immediately. It wasn’t hard for him to break out of my grip because I was concentrating my strength on strangling the son, Jorge, who was the bigger of the two. All hell broke loose. Jose Luis kicked me and tried to get me in a headlock and prise my hands off Jorge.

A crowd gathered around us instantly and began cheering. It was already two against one, so I was lucky that no one else came in on their side. When Jorge was about to pass out, I threw him to the ground and turned to fight his father, but he thumped me in the head. I was dazed and the only thing I could do was knock him against the wall and charge at him. We locked up in a desperate struggle and then Jorge managed to get back to his feet and the three of us grappled, with knees coming from all directions and fists flying everywhere.

The whole fight lasted less than two minutes before someone hissed that the police were coming and the spectators pulled us apart.

‘You’re dead – both of you! You can’t hide forever. I’m going to get you!’ I yelled at the Velascos as they scuttled back down to their room. The other prisoners urged me to keep quiet so that the police wouldn’t know who had been fighting.

After the fight, I went back to my room to calm down. I couldn’t get any rest because people kept knocking on my door, wanting to hear what had happened. It seemed that everyone throughout the whole prison was talking about the fight, and I was worried the guards would hear that I was involved. At the time, they were really cracking down and you could be sent to Chonchocoro on the slightest pretext. What use would I be to Abregon if I was stuck there in maximum security with him?

Then, a strange thing happened: the Velascos sent word via one of the taxistas that they wanted peace. They had the money ready and I should come and get it from their room. I smelled a trap immediately. For a start, how did they have money now if they hadn’t had any before? And if they did have money, why had they suddenly decided to pay it to me, rather than keep it for themselves? No one had won the fight, so it wasn’t like they were afraid of me.

At the same time, I couldn’t ignore the message, because they might blame me later for not going when they’d said they had the money. I sent a guy we called El General, who worked for me in my shop, with a note authorising the Velascos to pay him. El General came back empty-handed, saying that the Velascos didn’t want any possibility of confusion – they would only give the money to me directly. This convinced me that it was a trap. However, I couldn’t let them think that I was afraid. If I didn’t go then, that would mean they had won and there would never be any chance of getting the money for Abregon. So, I had to go. But there was no way I was going on my own.

I asked Julián, my section delegate, to come with me. No one answered when we knocked on the Velascos’ door the first time. We knocked again and this time a voice from inside told us to wait a moment. Julián suggested that we stand back from the door, just in case. As we waited against the railing a few doors down, I looked around and noticed that all the inmates were leaving. Within half a minute, the balcony was completely empty and everything had gone dead quiet. I could almost see what was about to happen next before it actually did.

Suddenly, there was a rush of footsteps as police sprinted up the stairs and swooped on us from both directions. They ignored Julián and came straight for me.

‘Don’t move! Stay right where you are.’

I did as I was told and stayed calm. I had suspected that something like this might happen, which was why I had brought Julián along as a witness.

Two of the police held me while the others knocked on the Velascos’ door. At first they wouldn’t come out, but when the police threatened to kick it in, they opened up. The police told Julián to stand back and me to accompany them inside to witness them searching the room, but I refused.

‘What for? It’s not my room. I’m from a different section.’

‘What are you doing here, then?’

‘Nothing. I’m here with my delegate,’ I said pointing to Julián. The police hadn’t reckoned on him being there and were a bit confused as to what to do. They told Julián to leave, but he said he had to stay as a witness.

‘What are you doing out of your section?’ they asked me again.

I repeated my answer of before. I didn’t want to mention that I was about to visit the Velascos or that they owed me money. It was best not to give the police any information to go on, even if it was completely legitimate and explained everything, because they would find some way of twisting your words.

Julián was ordered to leave and, despite my protests, the police made me follow them into the room. Jose Luis and Jorge Velasco were inside with a third inmate I didn’t know. None of them would meet my eye. We all watched as the cops turned things over and pulled their possessions apart.

‘What’s this?’ asked one of the policemen, who was standing at the bookshelf unravelling a poster that he had slid out of a cylindrical container. Inside was a long, thin plastic bag containing cocaine. All the police looked at me.

‘It’s not mine. This isn’t my room.’ I pointed at the Velascos. ‘Ask them!’

The police took us all outside to question us separately. They had nothing on me but that didn’t stop them from trying to get a bribe. They assumed that, because of the tours and because I was a foreigner, I was a millionaire. They wanted two thousand dollars. Normally, I would have given them something, nothing like that amount, but just something to avoid problems. This time, however, I had nothing to give.

‘I have never been inside this room. The door was shut and when you came I was outside, several metres away, where you found me. It’s their room.’ I pointed to the Velascos again. ‘Ask them.’

The guards had no case against me and they knew it. They could have changed the facts, except that I had a reliable witness with me to say that the door was shut and I had never been inside. They reduced their offer.

‘OK. One thousand dollars, then.’

Still I refused, so they searched my pockets thoroughly. When they found nothing, they insisted on searching my room. I gave them the key on the condition that my delegate be present so that they couldn’t plant anything. They didn’t find anything there either and although they weren’t happy about it, they had to let me go.

When the guards left my room, I was shaking. I sat down to think about what had just happened. Something big was going on. First Abregon being transferred, then this. The whole thing was so obviously a set-up. The police had intended to catch me in the room and say the drugs were mine, but they were stupid and had come too soon. Also, they hadn’t counted on me bringing Julián along. I suspected that the Velascos were behind the whole episode and when they weren’t charged either, I was sure of it. How could the police find over a hundred grams of cocaine in someone’s room and not charge anyone?

That should have been the end of the incident. However, eight days later, someone informed the media about what had happened. There was a television report that several inmates had been caught with two hundred grams of cocaine inside San Pedro, but that no charges had been laid.

The cops came and got me straight after lista, just like they had with Abregon.

‘Where are you taking me?’ I demanded. I already knew what it was about.

‘The punishment section.’ My heart sank. There was to be an investigation. The culprits had to be found.

‘Chonchocoro?’

‘No.’ The lieutenant shook his head. ‘Not yet, anyway.’

‘Where then?’

‘You’re in luck. They’re sending you to La Grulla.’