I met Frank at the airstrip, he had returned to collect me after
delivering Carter Mexico. We flew in to
the main Airport where Frank explained to me that there were to be no weapons
on me otherwise I would most likely be imprisoned.
Relinquishing my arms, I exited the plane to see before me a large flat
city, barely a building more than three stories high in all directions. The entire city looked like one large
military establishment, everything running to a schedule and order preserved in
all aspects.
From my previous studies into the history of the world, Mexico was not
strange to me, built on an ancient lake, Lake Thexcoco, the emblem of an eagle
devouring a snake came to mind as I recalled my history texts.
Civilizations built on the ruins of those that came before, from the
Aztecs to the Conquistadors to modern society, layer upon layer of history and
tradition lost.
Looking to the outskirts of the city, it was clear that the more central
the location in the city, the more modernised it was, the outskirts resembling
not much more than the slums and shanty towns found in the backwoods of some
lesser American cities.
It was the morning of the 1st of December, I made my way to
the hotel we had been checked into to find Carter having breakfast in the
dining room with an elegant young local lady by the name of Elena.
Carter introduced us and I learned she was our guide to the city. Her brother was supposed to be our guide and
interpreter, however he was not available to us, Elena, a student of History
had volunteered to take his place. We
conversed for some time as her study of history and my little knowledge of it was
a fantastic way to allow her to be less shocked at my appearance after the
events of the past weeks. Even with my
new teeth, most people were taking at least two looks to make sure they saw
what they think they saw. |
| Palacio Postal |
Carter also explained to me that he thought he had seen a man observing
him in the post office, something that unnerved him after our last encounter
with shadows.
Elena was able to shed some light on De La Luz, the stage name of
Rosaria Maria Lopez, the voice on the record we had heard playing in the
basement of Samson Trammell’s mansion.
Apparently she was a regular act at a club named La Paz, a large club
that was very popular for all types.
Elena had a friendship with the owner of the club by the name of Tonio,
someone Carter and I both agreed we should meet. De La Luz had become more and
more absent from the club when her music became more focused on darker themes
rather than the music of the time, something we could only attribute to her
involvement with the source of the evil we had been investigating.
Carter also explained to me that during his investigation of the offices
of the record company, a fast food vendor operated across the road, he in turn
told Carter that there were numerous parties previous to it being closed, he
had received invitation to take part and partake in the nectar, he refused. Carter also discovered that the recording
studio used by De La Luz, Studio Del Manana, the studio of tomorrow as
translated, was close by, he had not attended yet.
Carter had also retrieved an invoice from the studio as well as from Nova Records, the company pressing the albums, the volumes on which were astounding, pressing thousands of the albums we had hears in Trammell’s
residence.
We began our trip to the Recording Studio, our story was going to be
that we represent Olivia Clarendon, looking at recording studios for future
endeavours. When we arrived, Elena
followed us at a distance, a single story building with all the shutters closed
and some broken windows greeted us. We
rang the bell several times, not hearing any signs of movement inside.
Elena at the request of Carter began asking neighbouring businesses if
they knew when the building closed, many reported lights on inside in the
evening.
We stood by the door as Elena told us the news, as we planned to come
back at night to investigate, both Carter and my attention flickered as the
sound of something moving right behind the main door of the studio.
Together we motioned a count of three and both slammed our shoulders
into the door that flung open at our action.
The lobby of the studio was empty, beautiful artworks hung on every
wall, also three doors at the end of the walkway lay before us, one slightly
ajar. We moved inside the lobby, Carter
taking one side and me the other, motioning for Elena to enter and stay very
still in the corner by the door. We both
made our way closer to the slightly opened door, from within a voice shouted,
from behind me Elena screamed, ‘Stop he has a gun.’
Not able to see if this was the case, I took one step closer to be met
with the obvious sound of the hammer of a revolver being forced back into a
cocked position. At that sound, I
motioned to Carter and we both withdrew a few paces with our hands in the
air. An elderly man emerged from the
room, an old revolver shaking in his hands.
Elena spoke to the man who was clearly agitated, after several minutes,
he began speaking in English to us, we sat in one of the firm lounges in the
foyer, our hands in plain view at the man’s request.
It was clear to us that this man, Victor Cortez was no friend of De La
Luz. He began telling us of his
encounters with Brooks and De La Luz, married, Brooks was De La Luz
husband. He mentioned another name,
Konovalov, Brook’s right hand man, Captain Walker to Sampson Trammell in my
mind.
Brooks had approached Cortez to use the studio, he also approached Jorge Novo, the Record label owner. Together
in collaboration, they began producing the albums. Soon after, Novo and Brooks had a falling
out, after Novo refused to continue working with Brooks, Novo Records was burnt
to the ground. Hence Cortez’s sudden
circumstances of brandishing a firearm.
Victor also refused to keep working for Brooks, Konovalov came to his
house, Victor was able to sneak out the back before they could catch him.
We explained that we were here to put a stop to Brooks activities, we
need to know how to find them. He
explained to us that he had a matchbook with De La Luz address located at his
house in a large glass jar on the mantelpiece, he had not returned there since
his visit from Konovalov. He also
explained to us the evolution of Rosaria into De La Luz, how Brooks controls
her every move. We explained that Victor
needed to remain silent, lay low until this is all over.
We left the Studio to go directly to Novo Records, as we walked back to
our car, Carter spotted the man he had seen at the post office and gave me the
subtle nod as the what he was going to do.
As we moved next to our car, Carter burst across the road in the
direction of the man sitting in his own vehicle. At the sight of this, the man slammed his
accelerator and took off before Carter could get to him.
Fire inspector Carlos Monterey described the blaze as arson, but no
leads on who set the blaze. Detective
Javier Gomez, investigating officer had nothing further to add in the report of
the accident.
As it was still early in the afternoon, we decided to leave this place,
as the symbol on the wall had given me enough reason to believe that this place
was involved in evil, and I was somewhat glad it had burned beyond recognition.
We decided to go to the home of Victor Cortez, we needed the address for
De La Luz, something concrete to go on, and preferably still breathing. It was obvious Carter was getting frustrated,
the last time I saw him like this, he broke the face of an accountant.
We arrived at the address Victor had given us, we stopped a few doors
down as not to look too suspicious as we were sure that Brooks would have
people watching Victors house in case he returned.
Moving to the trunk of the car, Carter asked Elena to wait in the car,
in case any trouble came, blow the horn and drive away. I opened the trunk as I realised I was
completely unprepared for anything inside the house, I removed the long 18”
piece of steel used for changing a tyre and placed inside my coat, Carter also
gripped his knife as we approached the front door.
Knocking on the door it swung open at Carters first touch. We entered the empty house, clearly someone
had been looking for something, the whole house had been ransacked. Looking around, it was a bizarre layout, I
moved left, finding the bathroom, possible the only untouched room in the
house, Carter moved along the entrance hall until he reached the kitchen, all
cupboards open and gone through.
I slowly followed him, looking closely at all the draws and walls for
signs of symbols and possible traces of nectar.
Carter moved through another door, a solid oak door leading to a mid
sized living room. The cushions on
chairs were slashed, paintings ripped from the walls. I moved past the kitchen, swinging open
another door to reveal the bedroom, again everything slashed to ribbons, another
door was located in the far corner of the room, clearly an exterior door, its
keyhole old and rusted. I moved back
towards the bedroom entrance spying Carter standing in front of the mantelpiece,
a large glass jar filled with small items of various origins.
As carter took the lid of the top of the jar a loud crack filled the
air, the jar shattered as did the window looking out onto the front lawn. I heard a thud in the wall closer to me,
looking at the origin of the sound, a large hole tore through the wall. The horn of the car outside began blowing and
the screeching of tyres sounded as it sped away.
I called for Carter to get down as I moved to the entrance of the lounge
room, Carter looked frantically across the floor and snatched the matchbook as
another shot rang out, missing Carters head by inches.
He crawled towards me until within arms reach, I reefed him through the
door as another shot slammed into the door frame next to my face.
Once Carter was through, I slammed the door, sealing the shooters line
of sight, I shoved Carter through the bedroom door slamming him into the back entrance
the door fell clean off the hinges revealing a series of backyards. Without thinking we ran for the nearest
street. Jumping a fence and moving along
the side of a house until standing on the sidewalk of the next residential
street.
Taking a moment to gather ourselves, we began walking quickly down the
road. A car appeared around a corner and
slammed on its breaks, we noticed it and froze, a moment later it turned around
and took off back around the corner.
Undeterred, Carter urges us to keep moving.
A few minutes later the same car appeared and drove much closer to
us. Carter drew his knife and I my piece
of steel, the same man who had been following us jumped out pointing a pistol
at us and screaming in his native tongue.
Unsure of what to do, Carter and I both froze, the man continued to say
the same thing over and over as he cocked his pistol.
I dropped my piece of steel, as I did, he turned his pistol on Carter.
English, No Spanish I called at the man, who in turn took a moment and
shouted at us “Drop Weapons!”
Carter followed suit and dropped his knife, I lifted my coat showing the
man my waistband and the absence of weapons, Carter did the same, “Get in!” the
man shouted, bundling us into the car.
Once in, he drove at pace away from the house.
We asked the man who he was and why he had been following us, he ignored
our questions only to ask several of his own, demanding to know why we were
here, who we work for and what our business was.
We had no reason not to tell him as he had clearly just saved our
lives. We filled him in on as much as we
felt comfortable with. In turn he told
us his business, his name was Gonchi, a private investigator under the employ
of Brooks. He explained to us that he
works as a watcher and we were his assignment, he wants out. He can’t work for Brooks he explained as he
has born witness to the terrible things that goes on at the hands of his
employer. He informed us of the Russian,
Konovalov, the man everyone fears, Martinez another of Brooks street employees
reports to the Russian and Gonchi reports to Martinez.
Our conversation brought with it much information, we promised
protection and an exit plan for Gonchi provided he can give us the location of
the Russian and at Carters request, some hardware to get the job done with.
We explained we will be at the Club tonight and he is to meet us there
with what we want, then we will get him out.
Unknown to us, he had driven us to our hotel, he had clearly been
watching us better than we knew. He told
us he would be at the club at 9pm with everything we asked for, after our last
run in with a private investigator, Jack, the man responsible for my teeth or
my current lack of, I didn’t trust this Gonchi.
Elena was waiting for us in our hotel room, she was clearly rattled, unsure
of herself and certainly not expecting this kind of attention.
We all agreed to take some time to relax before we went to the club, I
spent my time organising and reorganising my belongings, folding clothing and
picking dirt from my jackets and pants.
Carter seemed to spend his time drinking as much as he could and doing
his best to be impressive to Elena who was clearly still shaken sitting
silently in an armchair, her back straight, her hand shaken.
8pm came upon us quickly, we all moved with minimal words downstairs to
the car, Carter had placed his brass knuckles in his pockets, clearly ready for
a fight, I on the other hand was relatively unarmed, only my hands to protect
me.
We arrived at the Club at about 8.15pm, Elena having a quick word to the
doorman and a quick exchange of cheek kisses gained us entrance, the club was
darker than I would have thought, its bright paintings on the walls reflecting
and catching the multi-coloured lights that filled the space.
Moving to the bar, Tonio, a large man was standing behind it,
introducing us politely Elena left the floor open to us and Tonio who seemed to
be far more relaxed than any other we had met so far in Mexico.
Our conversation with Tonio explained that he himself was not a fan of
Brooks, he refused to take part in his supply of drugs that he was peddling in
around the Club. De La Luz had not been
on the premises for some time, not since she began evolving into her new self. The bank that she worked with, Javier Luna,
always frequented Tonio’s establishment, something we saw as the best
opportunity to gain first hand recent knowledge of De La Luz.
As we were talking to Tonio, Javier Luna, the four piece band arrived, already slightly drunk, ordering masses of drinks they planted themselves at a nearby table.
Carter seized the opportunity, buying two bottles of tequila and
ushering Elena and myself to the same table.
Javier Luna, happy to see us as we poured them all more tequila, within
moments we were praising them and their work with De La Luz, gaining enough
calm to have them talking freely about her.
The began working with De La Luz in 1933, what started as a jazz group
soon evolved into improvised strange music in their opinion, as the
conversation flowed, Pedro, the youngest member of the group began explaining
to us that he started having visions when performing with De La Luz, seeing
vivid images of mouths and serpents, something that caused him to withdraw from
the table.
Javier went on to tell of their change of venue, moving the recording
studio they had been working in to a new location that required the band to
wear blindfolds. Slipping it to view the
location, Javier told of a colonial ruin, Martinez, one of Konovalov’s top men
was the driver. Brooks had become paranoid,
beating and ridiculing his men, Konovalov the only person stopping him from
killing them on the spot.
 |
| Marcus's 1911 45ACP |
Gonchi appeared in the entrance to the Club, looking awkward as Tonio
gave him a stiff look. I rose from my
seat with Javier and made my way to Gonchi who in turn moved back outside to
his car that was parked around the corner, Carter was soon standing next to me,
Gonchi had secured us firearms, opening his trunk to reveal a pump action
shotgun, a heavy revolver that caught Carter’s eye straight away and an American
colt 1911 pistol.
 |
| Carter's new S&W Revolver |
I slipped the 1911
into my waistband, Carter doing the same with the revolver and sliding the
shotgun under his arm to conceal as much of it as possible.
We explained to Gonchi that if he wants out, he will find the location
of the colonial ruins De La Luz and Brooks had been using as a recording
studio, do that for us and we will take him anywhere he wants to go.
He agreed after I handed him $100 dollars promising it is only a down
payment on services to be rendered.
Gonchi then drove away, his speed somewhat careless on the busy
street. Carter and I moved to our car,
placing the shotgun in the trunk, we
looked at eachother with sightly more confidence now that we knew we were
armed.
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