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“Has the weasel given up anything useful yet?” I asked Deo, leaving Aurelio to get on with his work.
“Not much. We know he was on Javier Domínguez’s payroll a while back, but he’s insisting he knows nothing about Domínguez or his cartel.”
Domínguez’s cartel controlled the area in Mexico where those girls had been. It was just our good luck that the weasel had gone stateside a few months back, making it easy for us to snatch him up.
I sighed. “He’s lying,” I said, looking at the weasel, trying to gauge just how committed he was. For a weasel, he looked pretty determined. That determination seemed to waver a bit when Aurelio positioned a four-inch nail in the middle of the back of the weasel’s hand and slammed it home with his ball peen hammer.
Ouch.
The weasel screamed.
Deo shrugged. “Aurelio will crack him. If not, maybe I’ll give you a go at him.”
“Trying to say I’m scarier than Aurelio?”
He laughed. “Damn right. Terrifying.”
“All right!” the weasel hollered as Aurelio reached into his toolchest of scary shit and pulled out another nail. “Word is he… he keeps them in a big, old building.”
“Well, gee, isn’t that helpful? ‘A big, old building?’” That really narrowed down our search.
“A big, old building where?” Aurelio asked, already positioning the nail for the next blow.
Silence.
Come on, Weasel. Just hand it over.
While I didn’t have a problem with men like him getting what was coming to them, this wasn’t exactly my idea of great Friday night entertainment.
“Don’t! Please, don’t,” the weasel cried, but Aurelio wasn’t listening.
He hammered the nail home, making the weasel scream like a banshee.
My head pulsed like the sound was a hammer, slamming into my eardrums.
Tylenol. I was definitely going to need Tylenol by the time Aurelio was finished here. And maybe next time, I’d bring some earplugs.
“I’ll tell you!” the weasel cried as Aurelio reached into his toolbox and pulled out another nail. I didn’t even want to guess at where he was planning to put that one.
“The building… it’s outside Lázaro Cárdenas,” he panted.
“Where?” Aurelio asked.
“Just… just wait. I don’t remember, but I’m thinking.”
Aurelio sat back, waiting patiently.
That was another thing I liked about Aurelio. He didn’t pull teeth and drive nails into people for the fun of it. He had a job to do, one carefully balanced between knowing when to act and when to wait.
The weasel’s face was screwed up in concentration, eyes shut tight. “I don’t remember the address. But Domínguez Agricultura Warehouse—that’s its name.”
“Bingo,” I said. Finally hit the jackpot.
Aurelio sighed. “What would you like me to do with him,SignorLuciano?” he asked, turning to look up at Deo for guidance.
Deo already had his lips pressed together, staring at the weasel.
But it was a pointless debate. The weasel would go straight to Domínguez, and even if he didn’t, the lies he told got people killed.
