Mexico City didn’t feel anywhere near as safe or as welcoming for Finn’s second visit in quick succession, even though he saw no signs of an imminent threat to himself.
He didn’t need to see it. He could feel it.
He’d managed to speak to Comisario Martinez on the phone before he left Cancun, but the conversation had been brief and far from productive. Finn hadn’t wanted to give away too much over the phone, either about himself or the information he had on Victor Travers, for the obvious reason that he’d never met Martinez before, had no clue about him or how trustworthy he was, but also because Finn was becoming increasingly wary of everything and everyone around him.
Paranoid. He was becoming paranoid.
‘Get a grip, for fuck’s sake,’ he told himself.
He let go of the curtain and stepped back to slump on the horribly soft bed in the crappy little hotel’s cramped single room. Just some place he’d found as he wandered the streets of the capital waiting a further response from Martinez.
I’ll be in touch.
That’s what the guy had said to Finn before ending the call as Finn traveled to the airport in Cancun. How many hours ago now?
Too many.
Finn unlocked his phone screen and googled the name again.
Comisario Martinez. Full name, Rodolfo Martinez. He looked to be in his fifties from the pictures Finn could find. A few news articles contained his name, his image, a quote here and there about Mexico’s war on drugs, a report of a murder or a hundred here, an arrest of a cartel member there, but Finn had found very little about the man himself.
Not that he needed to know anything, really. Martinez was who Gonzalez had said he was. A high-ranking member of the National Guard. Someone who had responsibility for taking on the drug cartels in Mexico.
Yet… Finn didn’t want to take on the cartels. He only wanted to expose and destroy Victor. In doing so, he knew he was playing a dangerous game. And the more he thought about it, the more he read about the violent exploits of the cartels, the more anxious he became.
He heard a noise outside his window. Down on the street below. A fast-approaching car…
Finn jumped up from the bed and peeled back the curtain, pressing his face to the glass to look down below. He expected to see an ambush descending, like in London. This time not the police but—
Nothing. The car sped on past. Just an idiot driver going too fast on the narrow inner-city street.
Finn’s heart kept racing, nonetheless. He stared at his phone once more. Nothing from Victor or Mariana since he’d left Cancun. But maybe that was to be expected. When he’d been in Victor’s villa before… he’d really felt like the big man was onto him. Victor had delivered a very clear threat, hadn’t he? For Finn to stop his digging. But Victor had no way of knowing exactly what Finn had uncovered.
Regardless, Finn had been on edge ever since. On arriving in Mexico City, he’d taken a taxi into a busy hub in the city, less than half a mile from the National Guard’s administrative headquarters – close to safety. He’d roamed the streets around there until he’d found the hotel. No pre-planning, cash only, making it harder for anyone trying to track his movements.
He jumped when his phone vibrated in his hand. Why did he expect to see Mariana’s name flash up on the screen?
Because he really wanted her to call, that’s why. He really wanted and needed the comfort of hearing her voice. Of knowing there was someone out there still on his side.
Except it wasn’t Mariana. And she wasn’t on his side, otherwise she would have been by his side.
Unknown caller.
‘Yes?’
‘Finn Delaney?’
‘Yes.’
‘This is Comisario Martinez.’
‘Finally. I’m in the city. We need to meet.’
A pause.
‘That was quick,’ Martinez said. ‘Where are you staying?’
‘Just tell me where we can meet.’
Another pause.
‘Somewhere public,’ Finn suggested.
‘It’ll be dark soon,’ Martinez said. ‘If you’re worried, I think somewhere inside will be better.’
‘Outside,’ Finn said.
A sigh.
‘I’ll meet you at the Plaza de la Constitución,’ Finn said, deciding on a more direct approach – he knew the square from his previous trip, at least. A big, open space. Plenty of police around, security for the politicians coming and going from the parliament building, but also for him perhaps.
‘OK,’ Martinez said. ‘I’ll be there in an hour.’
* * *
Finn remained on his feet as he waited, pacing around the square, eyes busy. At least the area was brightly lit, even though darkness had arrived. And it was still busy with people leaving the government buildings for the evening, others arriving to take picturesque night-time photos, or to go eating, drinking…
Martinez was alone and approaching Finn from the far corner of the square. He was shorter than Finn had imagined, a little chubby both in face and body. He was wearing an ill-fitting suit, baggy trousers and over-long jacket which reminded him of a scruffy schoolteacher Finn had had decades ago. Except this guy was confident – in his walk, in his stature, in the hardened look on his face.
‘Come with me,’ Martinez said, as he reached Finn, not breaking stride. Finn watched him head on past, rooted to the spot. ‘If you want my help, follow me,’ Martinez called without looking back.
Finn set off by his side. ‘What—’
‘You were followed here,’ Martinez said, his voice as gruff as his manner.
Finn whipped his eyes around them.
‘Who?’
‘The woman with the camera, fifty yards on your right, pretending to be a tourist. The two men over your left shoulder, on the bench.’
Finn spotted the woman. At least he thought it was the woman Martinez was referring to, except… she was paying them no attention at all. Not even looking in their direction.
He glanced around, looking for the two men.
Martinez grabbed Finn’s arm. ‘Don’t make it so obvious.’
‘How—’
‘I’ve been watching you for the last ten minutes. I noticed them almost straight away. You shouldn’t have come here. You should have listened to me to start with.’
Finn had so many questions, he struggled to get any of them out.
‘I can keep you safe,’ Martinez said. ‘But only if you do as I say.’
They reached the edge of the square. A black car sped up to them and rocked to a stop.
‘Get in,’ Martinez said, opening the back door. There was no one in there but the driver. ‘I won’t force you, but I’m going now. Come with me or stay out here and wait to find who’s following you and what they’ll do once I’m gone.’
Not much of a choice, really.
Finn stepped into the car.
* * *
The journey was surprisingly calm, almost relaxed. No chat. No threats. Less than ten minutes before the driver pulled over alongside what looked like an everyday office block, surrounded by other office blocks.
‘Come on,’ Martinez said.
Finn followed him out, glancing along the street as he did. There weren’t many people about. No other cars. Certainly no indication that anyone had followed them from the square.
‘What is this place?’ Finn asked.
‘My office,’ Martinez responded. Except it wasn’t the National Guard headquarters – was this an offshoot?
Martinez set off to the closed doors to the building. It was by far the smallest and most ordinary looking of the structures around it.
The Comisario pushed open the glass doors. A security booth lay off to the right of the cramped lobby. A sole, uniformed man sat behind the desk reading a magazine. He shared a brief exchange with Martinez as he and Finn walked toward the stairwell. Finn followed Martinez up to the third floor where they exited onto a plain-looking corridor with offices either side. Finn spotted a few heads behind desks through the windows.
Martinez opened up a door and held it for Finn who stopped to peer inside.
It was a small meeting room with a single window to the darkness outside and a rectangular table with six chairs. And another door, possibly connecting to the adjacent room, or even just for a storage cupboard.
‘Just you and me,’ Martinez assured.
Finn stepped inside. Soon both he and Martinez were seated, facing each other, Finn positioned so he had both doors in his field of vision.
‘You traveled light,’ Martinez said, indicating Finn’s sides.
Finn had. He hadn’t brought any papers this time. Hadn’t wanted the burden of carrying them around.
‘If you need to see proof of what I’m about to tell you, I can get it,’ Finn said.
‘Very well. So why don’t you begin.’
Finn did so with a simple outline of his work for Victor Travers. The electronics business, the licenses he’d obtained by blackmailing Gonzalez, although he didn’t go into details about the man’s ‘other’ life. He moved on to the European refinance, the multimillions that Victor had skimmed from the deal. Finally, the silent partners. The transfers to the various beneficiaries, all of them linked to the cartel kingpin Javier Lozano. Martinez took it all in without saying a word. Just a few nods here and there.
‘And… That’s… So what do we do with this?’ Finn asked.
Martinez said nothing for a few moments before shaking his head.
‘This is everything you have?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Why have you come to me?’ Martinez asked, sounding a little perturbed, as though Finn was wasting his time.
‘Because… Are you serious?’
‘I’m very serious, about my job, yes.’
‘Have you listened to a word I’ve said?’
‘Every word.’
‘I’ve just told you I have very clear evidence that one of the most recognizable billionaires in the world is operating alongside the Cortes Cartel.’
‘You’ve talked about an electronics business. Investments in Europe.’
‘Victor Travers holds himself out as a legitimate businessman but he’s screwing his investors and lenders. He’s siphoning millions to himself. He’s handing millions to a range of people connected to Lozano—’
‘But not to Lozano himself.’
Finn paused. Thought. ‘No. Not that I’ve seen. But I’ve only just started.’
‘And… have you actually asked Mr Travers about these transfers? About his relationship with Mr Lozano or any of those people you mentioned?’
‘No, of course not. Not directly. I’m not stupid.’
‘So this is all quite… circumstantial, no? Especially the link to Javier Lozano.’
In an instant, Finn forgot about his earlier nerves. Irritation rose in him. ‘No. It’s not. I met Lozano. At Victor’s villa in Cancun. He threatened me! Are you—’
‘Isn’t it perfectly possible that even if Mr Travers has a relationship with Lozano, that it’s to do with the Travers International business?’
‘But—’
‘Because nothing you have told me suggests at all that Mr Travers is in any way connected to the cartel’s drug activities. We may know that Lozano heads the Cortes Cartel, but we can’t arrest him for selling cheap mobile phones, can we?’
‘I’m sorry, but—’
‘So this is perhaps looking bad for Mr Travers’s reputation—’
‘I think it’s a lot more than that.’
‘No. At best, what you have told me is that Mr Travers is involved in fraud, and has been passing money he’s taken to other people.’
‘People connected to a drug lord!’
‘But not the drug lord himself.’
They both glared at each other. Finn wanted to bite straight back but knew that doing so only risked the conversation becoming a full-blown shouting match.
‘What are you telling me?’ Finn said. ‘You think this is nothing?’
‘I didn’t say that. But do you know what my job is?’
‘Let’s say I don’t.’
‘You probably have no idea how dangerous the cartels are here in Mexico. We have thousands of murders every year because of them. It’s why the National Guard, the military, me, is now in charge of the fight against them.’
‘And?’
‘And… it seems to me your intention here, for whatever reason, is to harm Mr Travers, through his links to Lozano. And that’s OK. That’s your personal choice. But nothing you have told me will help me to bring Lozano down. I need big, hard evidence of his wrongdoing. Links to drug deals. Links to murders. What I need is—’
‘So you’re saying you won’t help me.’
‘I’ll ask you again.’ Martinez paused and sat back in his chair with a sigh. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Because I want to destroy Victor Travers.’
‘Exactly. And from what you’ve told me, I think you could do that even without any link to Javier Lozano.’
‘But not with your help?’
‘Not with my help. Not because I wouldn’t want to help, but because I’m no police officer, I’m no lawyer. This all has nothing to do with me.’
‘Minister Gonzalez gave me your name.’
Martinez shrugged. ‘Perhaps he thought you had more evidence than you do.’
Finn shook his head. He really didn’t know what to say or do from here.
‘So you told Gonzalez everything you’ve told me?’ Martinez asked.
‘Yes.’
Martinez nodded, as if accepting the answer.
‘Anyone else?’
Finn opened his mouth to respond but then didn’t. Mariana? He hadn’t told her the details, but he had told her some of the story.
‘Mr Delaney, is there anyone else that knows what you’ve told me?’
‘No.’
‘And just to be very clear, you don’t have any direct evidence about Mr Lozano’s—’
‘I think I’ve been very clear with you. My intention here is to injure Mr Travers and not—’
‘OK. Thank you. I just wanted to make sure I understood. It could be very important.’
‘To who?’
Martinez’s face screwed up a little, kind of like he was squirming at seeing something unpleasant.
A horrible feeling built in Finn’s stomach.
The door to the neighboring room opened. Finn jumped to his feet and Martinez rose, too.
A man walked in, as calm as anything. Finn froze in shock at the face of cartel leader Javier Lozano, who had a cold look on his face.
Martinez talked quickly in Spanish to Lozano, whose eyes never left Finn’s.
‘He didn’t want me to come in,’ Lozano said to Finn. ‘He thinks you aren’t really a threat to me. He’s a good man, like that. He likes to think he can avoid bloodshed when possible. Perhaps it’s why we work well together.’
Finn said nothing. Martinez carried on talking. Pleading. Lozano cut him off with a wave of his hand.
‘I sensed he was going to let you leave,’ Lozano said. ‘And then he was going to try and persuade me afterwards to leave you alone, because your fight is with Victor Travers, and not with me. Which is why I interrupted. Because I can’t allow that to happen.’
Finn finally broke eye contact with Lozano and glanced to Martinez, whose face had turned pale. He looked afraid. For Finn.
‘You got too close,’ Lozano said. ‘Much too close. A threat to my close friend is a direct threat to me. And I did make myself very clear to you the last time, to not put your nose where it doesn’t belong. You really should have listened.’
‘Please—’
It was the only word Finn got out before the door to the room behind him burst open and two figures darted in. Finn launched a counterattack as the men descended. He hit out with a flurry of kicks and punches. He flailed in desperation, blocking what he could.
But it wasn’t enough.
Within seconds he was on his knees, an arm around his throat, a wet rag forced over his mouth and nose.
A scent… a pleasant scent…
His brain was swimming… vision blurring…
The impassive face of Javier Lozano was the last thing he saw.