Don't Send Flowers by Martin Solares

Author:Martin Solares [Solares, Martín]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780802146205
Publisher: Grove Atlantic
Published: 2018-10-22T16:00:00+00:00

Then he gave an address at the outskirts of the city.

“You’re working for Mr. Chuy?”

“Hey, yeah. That’s right. We’re with you, whatever you need.”

“And how’s it going?”

The Panda cleared his throat.

“Good, you know. Relaxed. I’m on residential security detail. You know the Garza Blanca condominiums? The ones you can see from the highway? I work there, at the gate.”

Margarito knew the place and could picture the inconsequential guard station at the entrance to the luxury condominium. Sizing up visitors through a little window, asking for identification, lifting that needle of a barricade a hundred times a day for every car that came or went. He pictured a small, smelly bathroom; a cheap blanket; nights spent on a cot, catching a few winks here and there—always at the beck and call of the residents and their stuck-up kids, afraid some burglar might take advantage if he nodded off—that zombie state where you can’t think clearly, which steals one day after another until the end. He pictured a little television switched on around the clock until it breaks.

Under different circumstances, he would have said, Stop by the office, I’m sure we’ve got something for you. But this was his last day on the job, and soon he wasn’t going to be in a position to help anyone, not even himself.

“I’ll come visit you there.”

“I’d like that, Chief. But I don’t want to distract you. Here they come.”

It was true: people were starting to make their way through the frosted glass doors: Carrizo and his bodyguard, followed by a rancher who burst out of the building like a charging bull after seeing the policemen gathered inside; a young man whose sweatshirt bore the name of a prestigious foreign university and who hugged his parents and sisters in turn; a slender woman in her forties with pearly skin, blood-red lips, and hair the color of a raven’s wing. She wore an expensive suit, and no one had come to pick her up. Then came two clean-shaven businessmen who smelled like lotion: a young woman greeted one of them with a peck on the cheek, and the other, probably her husband, with a passionate kiss. Behind them, people in the crowd waited to pluck their luggage from the conveyor belt.

He recognized him right away, even though the young man had his back to him. Certain bonds of blood and hatred simply can’t be broken. They say people in this line of work always know when an enemy is near. As if he could sense Margarito’s presence, the newcomer looked up and scanned the crowd. He knows he’s going to need all the help he can get, thought the chief. Given the state of things here. Just then, the man saw him and shook his head disapprovingly. It won’t be easy to get him to listen, he went on. But I have to try.

The newcomer grabbed a medium-size bag and headed for the exit. He stood out from the crowd, not only because he was tall, but also because he was obviously in excellent physical condition.

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