Robert B. Parker's Bull River Page 17

  59

  Virgil and I got our horses out of the stock car and made our way to a hotel across Córdoba’s busy plaza. After we booked a room, I walked the horses around the plaza a few times, then boarded them in a livery near the hotel. The lieutenant moved on but left the surly sergeant major and one of his other Federales in the hotel lobby, making sure we didn’t have plans to carry on without them. Virgil and I walked Alejandro up the stairs of the old hotel.

  “After I find Dalton and Jedediah’s wife,” he said, “you will, of course, be taking Alejandro back to America, won’t you, Virgil Cole? You won’t be leaving me with the fucking Federales in Córdoba, will you?”

  Virgil didn’t say anything as we walked the hall to the room.

  “Will you?” Alejandro said.

  Virgil didn’t respond as we entered the hotel room. It was a big, open room with two beds. It had high ceilings and a balcony facing the plaza. There was a small room that had no windows connecting to the main room, and in the corner of the small room there was a bunk for Alejandro. We shackled Alejandro to the heavy iron frame of the bunk.

  “Aw Everett,” Alejandro said. “You do not need to keep cuffing me. You must know I have no interest whatever in not being with you, Everett, and you, too, Virgil Cole. You must believe Alejandro.”

  “We got a ways to go, Captain,” Virgil said. “How this plays out is unforeseen.”

  “Well, I want to thank you, Virgil Cole. I have very much gratitude for what you did back there at the station. Those Federales have a different way of dealing with situations than the Americanos do. They would harm Alejandro. Probably, most likely, kill Alejandro.”

  “Thought all Mexico loved Captain Alejandro,” Virgil said.

  “Most Mexico, yes, not everywhere. Córdoba, they are a little different. That is why America is now my home.”

  “Your navy jacket,” I said. “It carries a mark for you, Alejandro. Might consider losing that.”

  “Aw. No. Never. This was my father’s jacket.”

  Alejandro looked at the jacket admiringly, as if he were looking at it for the first time.

  “He was in the navy?” I said.

  “Sí.”

  Virgil was leaning on the doorjamb, looking at Alejandro, with his arms folded across his ribs.

  “I do not remember my father. My mother tell me all about him. He was a very great man. This jacket is my shield. He was my hero. Alejandro, too, will one day be a hero like my father.”

  “Heroes don’t go around killing and robbing people,” Virgil said.

  “Alejandro is not a killer,” he said.

  “You told us when you, Dalton, and Jedediah were niños you robbed a bank and got caught?” I said.

  “Sí,” Alejandro said.

  “How old were you?”

  “Sixteen.”

  “Jedediah and Dalton?”

  “Jedediah was seventeen, Dalton eighteen.”

  “Not hardly niños,” Virgil said.

  “Niños enough.”

  “Where was the bank?”

  “Nogales.”

  “You said an hombre was killed.”

  “Sí.”

  “Who got killed?”

  “The hombre who owned the bank.”

  “You kill him?”

  “No, Dalton. The hombre chased us out of the bank. He shot at us, and Dalton chased him down and shot him.”

  “Dalton chased the banker down?” Virgil said.

  “Sí,” Alejandro said, nodding. “That is Dalton.”

  “You and Dalton got caught?”

  “Sí. We were convicted and went to prison in Yuma. It was not a good place. I got out in one year. Dalton stayed for twelve years.”

  “Jedediah got away and you’ve not seen him since?” I said.

  “No.”

  “You said Jedediah told the authorities on Dalton.”

  Alejandro nodded.

  “He did. He wanted to leave, get away from his brother Dalton.”

  “Why?”

  Alejandro shook his head.

  “They had been together too long, too close for too long . . . Too many fucking bad things had happened.”

  60

  “Dalton and Jedediah were tough hombres. Like no hombres I’ve known. They were rough with each other.”

  “What way rough?” I said.

  “Fight, bad fights. Most always started by Dalton. A few times, very bloody fights, like animals. Once I thought they would kill each other.”

  Virgil looked to me.

  “They would play games on each other, not friendly games.”

  “What kind of games?”

  Alejandro narrowed his eyes as if he needed to make a point.

  “Dalton mostly, he was always causing trouble for Jedediah.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “They would steal things from each other, hide things. They would make each other suffer. Food, horses . . . niñas.”

  “Niñas?”

  “Sí, like now. This is what is happening.”

  “This has happened before?” I said.

  “Sí. Dalton had a sweetheart in Silver City. One week we had jobs. We move some sheep for a rancher. We were on our way back to Silver City. We stopped and washed in a creek. Dalton took Jedediah’s clothes while Jedediah was in the water. He also took his horse. He left the bridle of Jedediah’s horse tied to a tree, but we left with Jedediah’s horse. Dalton and me rode back to Silver City and left Jedediah with no clothes and no horse. I told Dalton we must go back and get Jedediah, but Dalton would not. We played seven-up in a cantina that noche. Later, when we left the cantina, Dalton’s horse is not there and Jedediah’s horse is gone also. Dalton’s bridle is still tied to the hitch. Dalton was mad, but he became really angry when he was to find out his sweetheart, Otilia, was also not to be found.”

  “Jedediah took her?”

  “Sí. They were always trouble for each other.”

  “Where did he take her?”

  “No place,” Alejandro said. “He rode around with her. Then, next day, come riding his horse and pulling Dalton’s horse with a lead. Otilia was on Dalton’s horse. Jedediah dropped the lead and rode on.”

  “Jedediah have his way with her?” I said.

  “Do you mean did he fuck her?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “No,” Alejandro said.

  “They share women?” I said.

  “No.”

  “And you think this is what happened, now?”

  “Now is different,” Alejandro said.

  “In what way?” I said.

  “They were bad, but they were brothers. After they would do something bad, fight, steal, they would love each other for some time, everything would be no problem. But Alejandro would know, always be ready, this would happen at any moment, like cocks, studs, they would bite . . . Dalton most of the time would win the fights. Finally, Jedediah had a chance to get away. But now, too much has happened, life changed. Dalton spent so much time in Yuma Prison. Jedediah become someone else, acted as though he did not know me. Dalton tried to kill me. This is no game no more, no more boys.”

  “How did Jedediah get away?”

  “After the three of us got caught, the authorities questioned each of us separate. Dalton and me were arrested and Jedediah was not.”

  “And you never saw Jedediah again,” I said.

  “No.”

  “Until you saw him on the street in San Cristóbal just before you killed those two hombres,” Virgil said.

  “The sonofabitch tried to kill me.”

  “Well, you have killed, so you can’t make a claim you’re no killer,” Virgil said.

  “I never killed a man that did not deserve it.”

  “Think
the thieving business is another situation altogether,” Virgil said. “Seems everyone, including the Federales, and Captain Alejandro himself, knows Alejandro is a thief.”

  “Before the orphanage, I was on the street after my mother was killed. I was just a boy. I had to learn to live the best way I could.”

  “What about the other two,” I said. “Dalton and Jedediah? How did two American boys end up in a Mexico City orphanage?”

  “The orphanage is here,” Alejandro said.

  “In Córdoba?” I said.

  “Sí. They lost their mother and father to sickness,” Alejandro said. “Their mother and father were missionaries from America. They had traveled south to heathen country, but they got sick, they died of the terrible plague. Many people died.”

  “How long were you with them in the orphanage?” I said.

  “I was there for two years,” he said. “But it was no orphanage! It was a very bad time for us. The orphanage was not a good place. It was dirty hell. We were slaves there, Everett, that is all.”

  “How’d you get out?” I said.

  “We escaped. We were just niños. I was only nueve, Jedediah was just a year older, and Dalton was two years older than me. We just chose to no longer be slaves. The three of us, we climbed over a very high wall and left.”

  “Where to?” I said. “Where’d you go?”

  “To look for my father.”

  “I thought your father died in the Guerra de Reforma?” I said.

  “He did. Alejandro did not know he was dead when we looked for him. He died in the Reforma at the battle of Antón Lizardo.”

  “Where?” I said. “Where did you look for your father?”

  Alejandro looked to Virgil and then to me.

  “Where we will be traveling to tomorrow,” he said with a smile.

  I pulled a map out of my saddlebag.

  “Picked this up in the plaza,” I said.

  I unfolded the map and spread it out across a small table. I pulled the table close to the bed where Alejandro was shackled so he could have a look.

  “Where?” I said.

  61

  Alejandro looked back and forth between Virgil and me.

  “Where we are going is not on any map,” he said. “Exactamente can only be found by Alejandro.”

  “Don’t concern yourself about exactamente,” I said. “We got you down here and you’re taking us where we need to go and there is no going back on that.”

  Virgil looked at me and nodded a little.

  “Where’re we going, Alejandro?” I said. “What area on this map?”

  Alejandro looked at Virgil and me for a moment, then leaned over, looking at the map. He studied it, and then he placed his free hand flat on the map. Then he made a circle with his finger around where he placed his hand, indicating an area.

  “In this area here,” Alejandro said.

  Virgil and I looked at the map. The area Alejandro circled was the coastal city of Veracruz.

  “That’s where you went?” I said. “When you were kids and you escaped from the orphanage? You went there to look for your father?”

  “Sí.”

  Virgil looked at me.

  “How’d you get from here to there?” I said. “Long travel for kids.”

  “We stole a horse,” he said. “I told Dalton and Jedediah my father would take care of us. He would make soldiers, sailors of us.”

  Alejandro sat back on the bed and stared at the map for a moment.

  “It did not work out like I had planned,” he said.

  “What happened?” I said.

  Alejandro got quiet.

  “Alejandro?” I said.

  “Took us many days. We went to the ships looking for my father. They were magnífico. We find a captain. A very good man, Captain José Chapa. Captain Chapa is not like me, he is a real sea captain. No navy man, but he was fisherman. He was good to us boys. He fed us, and we stayed overnight on his fishing boat. Captain Chapa took me to a naval office. There we learn about my father. Alejandro’s father was dead.”

  Alejandro sat quiet for another moment.

  “The navy could not help you boys?” I said.

  Alejandro shook his head.

  “No, I received my father’s jacket and a few mementos, that is all.”

  “And Captain Chapa,” I said. “What of him?”

  “He was a busy captain,” Alejandro said. “His ship was leaving. Captain Chapa, he left.”

  Alejandro looked up to Virgil. Virgil remained leaning on the doorjamb. He didn’t say anything.

  “That is what happened. The three of us were there, Captain Chapa was gone, my father was gone.”

  Alejandro grinned.

  “The jacket, it was left. It was very big, but I wore my father’s jacket, no matter. Jedediah and Dalton, they thought it funny Alejandro wearing big navy man’s jacket. They started calling me Captain Alejandro, this is how I got the name.”

  “Where did you boys go?” I said.

  “We had no place to go. It was night, we followed a road. The weather was very bad. We found a big hacienda. We hid for many days in a barn, then many weeks. A villa looking over the ocean. We were safe until an hombre found Jedediah stealing food and beat him, bad.”

  “What hombre?”

  “The propietario of the villa.”

  “You were there for weeks and no one knew?” I said.

  “Sí. The propietario was never at the hacienda. Just workers—one very old herder knew but did not care. He brought us fruit.”

  Alejandro stared at the map as if the past were present.

  “This is where everything change for us . . . Dalton and me were hidden in the loft above, watching. Jedediah was hurt, then the hombre tried to take Jedediah—he wanted to, you know, fuck him.”

  Alejandro looked at us with a serious expression on his face.

  “Dalton jumped down from the loft with pitchfork and killed the propietario. He stabbed him many times like he was chopping a tree. He continued to stab him until Dalton himself collapsed.”

  “Then what?” I said.

  “Then we left there. We did what we could do to survive after. We were together for many years. We made our way to America.”

  “Why would Dalton come back here?” I said.

  “He told me he would do so.”

  Virgil looked at me and shook his head.

  “He told the hombre when he killed him, too. One day the villa would be his, but the hombre, he was dead.”

  “Dalton been back here since then?” I said.

  “No,” Alejandro said.

  “Tall lie,” Virgil said.

  “No lie, Virgil Cole. We loved it there on the ocean.”

  Virgil looked at me, shaking his head some.

  “So what makes you so sure,” I said, “Dalton would come here?”

  “That Christmas night. When things went bad and Dalton’s hombres turned against me and Dalton, too, he turned against me. In San Cristóbal, when Dalton planned to rob the bank. We were drinking. We were all very drunk, talking about what we would do with the money after the robbery. Dalton told me he would do what he always said he would do and he would make the villa his own.”

  Virgil shook his head some and walked out of the room.

  “When were you last there?” I said.

  “I have been near there many times, but not back to the hacienda.”

  “Why have you come back?” I said.

  “I told you. Alejandro has many friends. The captain, for one. Captain Chapa is my friend, and I like the ocean . . . The ocean is very beautiful.”

  “Where is this Captain Chapa?”

  “The same place. His fishing boat. He is older now, he drinks too much, but he is still fisherman and Alejandro’s fri
end.”

  “And this villa,” I said, looking at the map. “It is here, in Veracruz?”

  “Near Veracruz, but not easy to find.”

  “We best not get there and you say we need to go someplace else.”

  “It is there, it is most beautiful place. You will see, most beautiful.”

  62

  The sun was setting when I went out into the busy plaza to get us some food. In a small café I got us mole carnitas with frijoles, fruit, and goat cheese, and brought the food back to the room. After we ate, Virgil and I played blackjack for a spell. Later, I walked Alejandro to and from the privy, then locked him back to his bed.

  “Alejandro is not going anywhere, Everett,” he said, not wanting to be locked up.

  “I know.”

  He continued to complain as I closed the door between him and the main room. I joined Virgil sitting on the balcony. He was smoking a cigar and sipping some tequila.

  After a long silence I said, “Here we are.”

  Virgil smiled and poured me some tequila.

  “Long way,” I said.

  “Damn sure is.”

  Virgil took a long pull on his cigar. He lifted his head and blew the smoke up.

  “You don’t think this is some ruse here, do you, Virgil?”

  Virgil thought for a moment, then shook his head some.

  “The captain is a lot of things,” Virgil said. “But I don’t think concocting something like this would play in his favor.”

  I nodded.

  “That story he was telling us about looking for his father, what happened in the barn with the pitchfork, the fights, the games, the sweetheart in Silver City, this place,” I said. “Seems pretty fertile makings for what has got us down here.”

  “Does.”

  “No matter now,” I said. “It’s what we’re doing.”

  “We are.”

  “Like Alejandro said himself, though,” I said. “There’s no guarantee.”

  Virgil shook his head a little.

  “And like you always say,” I said. “There never is.”

  “No, there’s not, Everett.”