Connections: Conexiones (Mercenaries Book 3) Read online

  “Very well.” He rose from the chair and went to find Elena.

  “I did several translations,” Elena said. “I have verified parts of them with others I trust, and the consensus is they are accurate, by which I mean it’s the same as another reader would understand. First, the audio clip—”

  “That’s from the audio cassette Beckie sent, right?” Shen said.

  She nodded. “Else concurs this is the long version of the tape Amy found in Abby’s bag—”

  “The one I gave O’Bannon, right?”

  “Yes. It is a recording of a meeting between two men.” She referred to her notes. “Señors Talos and Huamán. They discuss the weather and then a delivery. Huamán spends a long time trying to get Talos to tell him he has it, whatever ‘it’ is, before they come to terms on the payment. Huamán asks about the Argentum Dei, and Talos agrees it is quite satisfactory. They make arrangements to meet at 7:15 the next evening in a park off 42nd Street to consummate the transaction.”

  “Argentum Dei?” Beckie said. “What’s that?”

  “Earnest money,” Ian said. “A deposit. From the discussion, Huamán had earlier sent Talos a sample of the gold.”

  “So,” Elena continued, “that transcript is here…” She tapped a small pile of papers. “… if you want to read it.”

  Ian reached across and slid them to Beckie. “Our opinion is the recording, in and of itself, means nothing. However, since Talos’ defense claimed Talos and Huamán were unknown to each other, this would put a strain on that claim, much more than the fragment you passed along to Ms O’Bannon.”

  “Uh-huh. So, since we found this in that safe deposit, seemingly connected to Goldfarb and Talos, and the key was sent from Peru… That might imply some one there supports him.”

  “It might also suggest a form of payment for services rendered,” Ian said.

  “Oh,” Beckie said, her voice hushed. “Or to be rendered. That opens up a raft of choices, doesn’t it?”

  “Indeed it does.”

  “How about a drink of water and then Elena can go over the next batch.”

  With a smile, Elena reached into her case and withdrew a second stack of papers. Unlike the first, this stack looked to be an inch thick; Beckie then noticed it was clipped together with a metal binder strip. Elena slid it across to Beckie.

  “Whoa!” She flipped the first few pages, then raised her head to stare at Elena. “How about the Cliff’s Notes version? Please?”

  Elena gaped for a second before she covered her mouth, laughing. “Okay.” She composed herself. “This is the transcript of the video you sent, and the translation.”

  Beckie was on the edge of her chair, waiting. Ian moved his chair closer and gently nudged her away from the table. She glanced at him and smiled, then relaxed as he continued to rub her back. “Sorry. Little tense, I guess.”

  “That’s okay,” Elena said. “The combined video shows several meetings of a group consisting of at least Mamani and four men. The thrust of the meetings, until the last one, was how to force the Ministry of Justice to ignore campaign violations of one Jaime Lobera, one of their number. Unstated was the implication all of them might face similar charges. In the last meeting, Mamani and Mateo Huamán agreed—they’d disagreed earlier—the effort should be dropped, since the Justice Minister had publicized Lobera’s upcoming arrest.” Elena looked around at them all. “This is a real abbreviated version, since Ian told me it matches what Mamani told you when you met.”

  “Wow.” Beckie faced Ian. “How much did you guys talk about this? And how’d you keep it quiet?”

  “Ms Rios and I had a cryptic discussion before we left, and a more transparent one aboard the plane returning. We would have included you when we arrived, but—”

  “But I was having too much fun entertaining everyone. Yeah. Okay. Hmm. Could I have another water, please?” Shen spun in his chair and took a bottle from the cooler. As Ian took it from him, Beckie continued, “Thanks. That was then. How’d it go?”

  Elena shrugged. “As you say, that was at least five years ago, dating from some of the things they reference.”

  Ian continued, “You recall she gave us her word the attempt was abandoned. We have no evidence she lied. The member of the group they were protecting was tried and convicted, which argues their efforts bore no fruit.”

  “I thought I recalled that.”

  Elena tapped the binder. “Her plan… One of the supporters was Piero Salvadore—”

  “He was in that meeting with Mamani, right? It is the same one?”

  “It is,” Elena agreed. “He is now the Minister of the Interior and probably Mamani’s chief competition for the Presidency. He’s a mining magnate with holdings in at least one gold operation. He pledged to siphon up to a thousand kilos of refined gold for the cause.”

  Beckie was trying to remember gold’s price when Shen said, “Something north of 25 million euros. Or over a hundred-million neuvos soles, today, if I calculated correctly.”

  Beside Beckie, Ian nodded. Beckie tried to close her mouth. “Once?” she finally stammered.

  “That was the initial investment, as Mamani described it. We haven’t any idea if it was to continue, or even if any of the gold pledged was delivered.”

  “What about Huamán’s bullion? The bars we have. Where’d those come from?”

  “Not from this. Both Gomez and Mamani are adamant Huamán’s gold actually came from her. Which may have come from the same source,” Elena admitted, “but Huamán was opposed. He stomped out, according to the video.”

  Beckie reached for her hair and began twirling it one-handed. “Wait. Mamani’s trying to buy justice for a friend, and someone stole the video of it. Huamán’s against Mamani’s idea. But later, he’s killed in New York trying to buy the evidence back? Why am I confused?” She rubbed her eyes and forehead. “Is this supposed to make sense?”

  “Well,” Ian replied softly, “it makes little sense to us, either.”

  “Does Gomez know about this?”

  “We’re pretty sure he knows some of this,” Elena said, “but not from us. That’s the reason Ian and I spoke in code while we were in Peru. And it’s the reason we brought him here. So we could broach it to him without any prying ears to contend with. But it seems like it’s an urban legend in Peru, if you get what I mean?”

  “Got it.” She raised the water bottle and drank. “Could it be Huamán didn’t know what Mamani was asking him to buy?”

  “Can’t tell for sure, though that’s a possibility I like. Ian’s not as happy with it, though.”

  Beckie turned to Ian. “Why not?”

  “He is in the video, and Mamani told us he was one of the co-conspirators, until he ‘stomped out.’ The only way he would not know what the deal involved, I believe, is that he was unaware Mamani had sent him, that it was her gold. I believe he was using Mamani’s gold to acquire the videos and present them to her to destroy. Or to reveal them himself, to discredit her.”

  “Could either of those have been a motive for Talos to kill him?”

  “That seems less likely,” Ian said. “Of course, if we uncover evidence Mamani feared Huamán might reveal them, all bets are off.”

  Beckie relaxed and gave him a big grin. “Indeed! Elena, how good are your translations? Not to impugn your work, but you’re not a native Peruvian.”

  Elena waved off Beckie’s explanation as she smiled. “Right, I’m not. And I wasn’t going to have anyone down there be privy to the contents. So, there’s a risk. I think it’s small.”

  “Yeah, I knew that already, I guess. Thanks for tolerating me. What else is there?”

  “Everything else is how the plan would be put together. Nothing else.”

  “Hmm. Do we have any idea how Talos got hold of that stuff?”

  Ian got up and went to the cooler for a bottle of water. As he did, he said, “None. Of course, we would not expect it to be contemporaneous with the meeting described there, but I was hop
ing for a hint. Some contact, or…”

  “Is that… Well, first, is that something we think Gomez might have an insight to? And second, does it matter? I mean, he got the stuff. Now, we have the stuff. And…” She turned sharply to face Ian, bumping her injured arm on the table “Oww! Damn! I really have to be more careful.” When she recovered, she said, “What difference does any of this mean to us?”

  Ian had reached when she’d cried out, but settled back. “If this subversion continues,” he said after a brief pause, “I would terminate our contract. I can see no justification for supporting this kind of… oppression? Not exactly, but still, not in the best interest of the Peruvian people.”

  “Yeah. I guess I have some reading to do on the plane.” She touched the binder. “When I’m not refereeing Amy and Millie, anyway.”

  Ian almost chuckled. “Indeed,” he said. “How long do you believe you will stay?”

  “Overnight, unless something comes up.” Beckie excused herself; when she returned, she said, “Is it time for one of my meds? Beginning to ache again.”

  Ian looked at his watch and nodded as he opened the bottle and spilled a capsule to the table.

  Beckie swallowed it with the end of her water and sat down again. “If we give Gomez all this…” She patted the binders. “… he’s gonna want some time to read and absorb it. So going to Chatham is probably a good plan from that perspective, too.”

  “I will ask Boynton to bring him over, then.”

  Beckie nodded.

  In half an hour, a knock on the door heralded Boynton’s arrival with Philip Gomez. They both entered and took seats across from Beckie and Ian, closest to Shen on the right and Elena on the left.

  “Good afternoon, señor Gomez.” Ian said. “I appreciate your patience while we resolved our issues with an invasion, then waiting for Rebecca to regain her faculties.”

  “It is my pleasure,” he said. While he had still wiped his forehead twice since arriving, Beckie was happy he’d stifled his non-funny laughter. So far, anyway. “I appreciate the opportunity to visit this lovely place, and hope to assist you as you will assist me.” His English was not quite perfect, but his accent was pleasant to hear now that Beckie wasn’t focusing on his behavior. “I hope you and the other lady injured will soon recover completely. Have you discovered the motive behind the attack? I hope it was nothing to do with the work you prosecute for us.”

  “Thank you, señor.” Beckie laughed softly. “I appreciate your wishes, and heartily second them.”

  “I suppose you do. But, please, call me Philip.”

  “Very well,” Ian said. “Ms Saunders and I asked you to leave your home to visit us here, thinking it would be safe, for which I apologize, but more importantly, so we could speak with you on a matter of urgency which I did not wish anyone to overhear, either inadvertently or surreptitiously.”

  Gomez smiled. “Yes. Our police and Interior Ministry have some small capability of that sort.”

  Ian nodded, then continued, “Ms Rios has done yeoman service in transcribing and then translating a video from a meeting some five or six years ago.” Elena slid a binder, twin of the one she’d given Beckie, over the table to Ian. “Our interpretation is that Nayra Mamani was then embarked on a mission to corrupt the enforcement of campaign financing laws in your country.” Beckie watched Gomez carefully, but there was no shock in his expression. Ian had apparently noticed the same thing. “You do not appear surprised by this news.”

  “No, it has been rumored she sought recordings of a meeting like that.”

  “I have to assume you didn’t raise this issue with, well, with anyone, I guess,” Beckie said. “Why not? Is campaign financing too insignificant for the law to matter? And why not advise us when we were discussing whether or not we should support her efforts to be elected?”

  “My conversations with my employer are my own, and hers. I would not reveal this to an outside party. It is an internal problem.”

  “Hmmf.” Beckie forced herself to make a fist with her injured hand; to allow the pain to defuse her anger. Not worth telling us! She squeezed a little harder, but Ian noticed and stroked her good hand. The contact was enough; she relaxed and took a deep breath. “Thanks for your candor, señor. Which is not to say I approve or even understand.” This time, she rose and went to the cooler, but Shen had a bottle of juice ready when she got there. She nodded and thanked him.

  Ian watched her return before he said, “We are disappointed in your position, although I believe I understand it. It puts me in an uncomfortable position, as I have committed to señora Mamani I would return the videos if we recovered them.”

  From her seat behind the bottle of orange juice, Beckie watched Gomez’ face collapse. He’s scared to death of that. There’s something going on we don’t understand. Or me, at least, she thought as Ian continued, “Since you do not wish the recordings’ existence, apocryphal until this moment, revealed to outsiders, what would you have me do with them?”

  “Yeah,” Beckie interjected. “If you don’t want them revealed, why don’t you want Mamani to have them? Seems like she’d be real happy to destroy them as soon as she could.”

  “The video must be revealed, but the circumstances must be opportune.”

  “And what would be ‘opportune?’” Ian said. “Why would I not merely send it to, for example, the BBC, Al Jazeera, Canal N, El Peruano, El Comercio and La República?”

  “What about your commitment to Mamani?”

  “Come now, señor. It is unconscionably easy to create a copy of this material and send it to arrive the day after she and I complete our agreement.”

  Gomez nodded, but he didn’t look any happier. “You want to be the one to reveal this,” Beckie said. “Why? What do you gain by doing so?”

  “She can do good, important work,” Gomez said. “She leads the field. If she is forced to withdraw, who would be elected?” Ian shook his head and Beckie knew she had no clue about Peruvian politics. Gomez rubbed his hand over his hair. “That’s always the case, isn’t it? The devil you know or the devil you don’t. While Ms Saunders and Mr Quinn are at loose ends, you might have them look into opposition leaders. While I have distaste for some things Mamani has done, I believe she is the lesser of several evils.”

  “So how would giving them to you differ from giving them to her?”

  “Because I can hold them over her.”

  Beckie couldn’t hold her guffaw in, although she smothered it quickly. “That’s a short trip to pushing up daisies, as we say. You can’t imagine after all this, once she knows where they are, she wouldn’t move heaven and earth to get her hands on them. I didn’t mark you as a stupid man, but this… this is just… it’s beyond the ken.” Beckie stopped for a breath. “In fact, except it was so poorly executed and I’m certain no one outside this room knows what we have here, I’d worry the attack on Thanksgiving was an effort to recover them.” She looked at Ian and then Shen. “Does that seem reasonable?”

  They nodded, though Shen less confidently than Ian.

  “In fact,” Ian said, “according to one of the participants, the raid was intended to achieve that as a primary goal.” Oh! He never mentioned that. “As Rebecca intimated, they had no certainty the video was here, but had no other place to search.”

  Ian shrugged, then stretched. “Very well. Before we talk further, I ask you to study these translations so you can share your opinion of their accuracy. The possibility Ms Rios made a significant error is small but present. I would value your thoughts. I continue to request you not contact anyone other than one of us.”

  Elena took a cassette from her case and set it atop the binders, which Ian handed to Gomez. “A copy,” Ian said. “Shen will bring a player—”

  “Ms Meyer brought it over prior to your call,” Boynton said. “We had a few moments of interesting repartee concerning its use, which has now been rendered obsolete.”

  Beckie chuckled. I know how that feels.

 
; “Indeed. We will adjourn until Tuesday evening unless there is a pressing need to meet earlier. Rebecca is traveling and will return then. The Nest will be at full force later tonight, as vacationers return. Thank you all.”

  “Mr. Jamse, must we await Miss Rebecca’s return?”

  “I am uncertain of your meaning. The answer is no, we need not. However, unless something seems critical, my preference is to include her in these discussions.” He nodded to Beckie. “Especially as she has gained a rapport with the señora. On the other hand, we can begin earlier if it makes you easy.”

  “Ah. I understand.”

  Beckie smiled. “Maurice has games in addition to chess. You might find them interesting if you find yourself bored. As Ian said, my plan is to be back Tuesday, but please don’t let my absence stop you asking questions or proposing solutions when they occur to you. You and Ian can acquaint me with those on my return.”

  With a nod of thanks, and a smile from Boynton, he and Gomez left.

  Beckie sagged in her chair, but straightened when Ian’s discomfort became obvious. “I’m okay, love, really.” She ran her hand through her hair. “I am so mad at him. Not wanting to tell us, or even hint to us. Damn!” She got up to throw the empty juice container in the trash, but it bounced off the rim. “Sorry,” she said as she grabbed it and dropped it in. “I understand his reasoning, but I don’t like it. We have people, good people, who might be at risk because he… he wants to be all the hero and get himself killed!”

  “Our people were not at risk.” He shot a quick glance at Elena; she was clearly in agreement.

  Tuesday

  Taking Dylan home was completely uneventful; the thirty hours were even pleasant, Beckie reflected on the way home. Fortunately, Amy seemed to bond well with Dylan’s family.

  Back at the Nest, Ian took her to the lanai where Boynton, obviously alerted by Karen or perhaps Jannike, had laid a light dinner for her. “No wine?” she asked.

  “I’ve been advised the interaction of alcohol and the pain relievers you are taking is not beneficial, so, no. You may have sparkling water.”