Chapter 11 - THE THREE MILLION DOLLARS
The second tape changed everything.
Julian listened to it with Officer Torres, Mariana, and Ernesto.
Rafael’s voice came through clearly.
“César thinks I owe him money.”
“He’s wrong.”
“I discovered he was laundering cash through construction companies.”
Julian looked at Torres.
The tape continued.
“I took records.”
“Then I took cash.”
“Three million.”
Mariana whispered, “Oh my God.”
Rafael continued.
“I hid it where César will never find it.”
“It belongs to no one.”
“If I die, Julian must decide what to do.”
Julian leaned closer.
Then came the location.
Not an address.
A clue.
“Where the saint watches over the dead, under the tree that never blooms.”
The tape ended.
Ernesto stared at the table.
“I know that place.”
Julian turned.
“Where?”
“The old cemetery in San Marcos.”
“Your grandfather’s grave.”
They drove there with police.
At the Mendoza family plot stood a stone statue of Saint Michael.
Behind it grew an ancient dry olive tree.
It had not bloomed in decades.
Workers dug beneath the roots.
Two feet down, they hit metal.
A sealed industrial trunk.
Inside were plastic-wrapped bundles.
Not three million dollars.
Much less.
About $600,000.
And dozens of ledgers.
Account numbers.
Company names.
Payment lists.
Police officers.
Politicians.
Business owners.
Torres stared.
“This is bigger than your family.”
Julian said, “Where’s the rest of the money?”
Ernesto shook his head.
“No idea.”
Then Mariana pointed to a ledger.
A line had been marked in red.
EULALIA MENDOZA — $2,400,000.
Julian stared.
His mother had received the rest.
Twenty years ago.
Torres swore under his breath.
Julian felt suddenly tired.
Not angry.
Tired.
His mother hadn’t only been blackmailed.
She had money.
A fortune.
All along.
That evening, police searched the mansion.
No millions.
No hidden safe.
No offshore account they could immediately find.
But they found something else.
A recent bank statement.
A wire transfer for $2.1 million.
Sent three weeks earlier.
Recipient:
MATEO VÉLEZ.
Julian looked at Patricia.
She covered her mouth.
“She paid him.”
Torres nodded.
“Probably hoping he’d go away.”
Julian asked, “Then why does he still want me?”
Torres looked at the ledger.
“Because now you have evidence that could put him away for life.”
Julian’s phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
A photo arrived.
Dieguito.
Standing outside his school.
Taken that morning.
May you like
Under it was one sentence.
BRING THE LEDGERS OR YOUR SON DISAPPEARS.
