Alex Barclay - Time of Death

‘John Reiff? My name is Special Agent Ren Bryce.’ She threw a small plastic evidence bag on to the table in front of him. He looked up at her, not sure whether he could touch it.

‘Go ahead,’ said Ren.

Reiff picked it up, but quickly dropped it on the table.

Inside were broken fragments of ceramic. There were two pieces that stood out. One was no bigger than a quarter — a white skull with a black hood. The other piece was a tiny gold crown. They were both spattered with blood.

Ren stared John Reiff down. ‘So,’ said Ren. ‘What happened over spring break?’

Reiff’s pallor dropped a few shades on the color chart. He frowned. ‘I…’ He stared down at the table.

‘Do you know where I found this?’

‘No,’ said Reiff. ‘But…that’s blood.’

‘Yes, it is blood,’ said Ren. ‘It was found in the SUV. Michael Sarvas…’ Ren paused. ‘Did you meet Michael when you used to stay over in the Sarvas house? He was fifteen. Do you remember him?’ Ren held his photo in front of Reiff’s face until he turned away. ‘Michael liked skulls. He had skull T-shirts, a skull keychain…’

Reiff’s eyes returned to the bag. He looked ill.

‘But this is not Michael’s,’ said Ren. ‘This is something a little more sinister, isn’t it?’

She studied Reiff. ‘You have to suppress your intelligence too much in this new, dumbed-down teenage world, don’t you, John? Well, now is your chance to be smart. Tell me what you know. Take the opportunity.’

Reiff nodded. He stared at the bag. ‘It looks like…Santa Muerte.’

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘Santa Muerte. Saint Death. Patron Saint of drug traffickers and prostitutes and murderers…Patron Saint of the dark side…’

Reiff held the back of his hand to his mouth. He swallowed hard.

‘This tiny figure was found on the floor of the Sarvas’ SUV,’ said Ren. ‘That’s Gregory Sarvas’ blood, by the way. Do you remember him from when you used to stay over in the Sarvas’ house?’

Tears welled in Reiff’s eyes.

‘Michael was not a drug user,’ said Ren. ‘I would venture that he was too busy focusing on his studies, had never even traveled anywhere without his parents. I’m guessing that Gregory Sarvas, lawyer, and father of three, was not heavily into blow or meth. So, the question remains: what happened on spring break?’

The Sarvas house was in an upscale El Paso neighborhood on a half-acre lot. Access to the property was through a security gate with a keypad.

Ren got out of the car and pushed the call button. Catherine Sarvas buzzed her in. The gates swung slowly open and Ren drove through into a cobbled courtyard and a stunning two-story stucco house.

Catherine Sarvas was suddenly face-to-face with the woman whom she had been happy to talk to only because she was hundreds of miles away at the other end of a phone line. Her hands were shaking.

Ren smiled. ‘Thank you so much for seeing me. Sorry I couldn’t give you more notice.’ She shook Catherine’s hand and held it briefly.

Catherine’s shoulders relaxed a little. ‘Thank you,’ she said. She led Ren into the kitchen and poured her water from a jug that had lemons and tiny white flowers floating in it. They sat on high stools across the counter from each other.

Catherine’s fine, glossy blonde hair was tied in a pony-tail. Her freckled skin was tinted with light moisturizer, a little blusher. She was a natural beauty. But her ordeal had clearly taken a toll on her.

‘How was your trip?’ she asked.

‘The trip was fine,’ said Ren. ‘Catherine…I spent this morning at the El Paso police HQ interviewing Luke’s friends.’

‘Oh.’ Catherine looked taken aback.

Ren nodded. ‘I had some questions that I needed answers to.’ She paused. ‘How much do you know about what’s happening along the Mexican border?’

Catherine frowned. ‘I read the newspapers…but what has that got to do with anything?’

‘OK, I’m going to have to tell you a few things about Luke that may be difficult to hear.’

‘Oh, God…’ Catherine held a hand to her chest.

‘In April last year, Luke told you that he spent spring break with his friends in San Diego, is that right?’

Catherine nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘He did spend two days there,’ said Ren. ‘But the boys crossed the border into Tijuana for the rest of the vacation.’

‘Tijuana?’

Ren nodded.

‘Why would he go to Tijuana? Tijuana is-’

‘While they were there,’ said Ren, ‘they…partied hard.’

‘Meaning…?’ Catherine waited for Ren to answer.

Ren nodded. ‘Yes — drugs.’

‘But…there is no way Luke would touch drugs. Maybe some of his friends, but still…we made it very clear to Luke what the dangers of drugs were and what the consequences would be if he went down that route.’

‘I spoke with his friends,’ said Ren. ‘And I’m afraid they confirmed that he had been doing drugs.’

‘Did they say that they had too?’

Ren nodded.

‘I…I…just can’t believe this.’

‘Also,’ said Ren, ‘there were girls…’

‘With them?’ said Catherine. ‘From school?’

‘No.’

Catherine stared at her. ‘What kind of girls?’

‘Prostitutes.’

Catherine looked ill. ‘Prostitutes.’

‘A couple of the boys, yes,’ said Ren. ‘But we’re not sure exactly what Luke did. They were very drunk, they had been taking cocaine. The boys’ memories are hazy. But enough of them have backed up the story.’

‘Luke wouldn’t need a prostitute,’ said Catherine. ‘That’s ridiculous. He’s a very handsome boy…Girls lined up for him.’

‘Boys get swept up in this kind of environment,’ said Ren. ‘They were at one of the table-top bars-’

‘What’s a table-top bar?’

‘Like a strip club. Full contact. You can touch the girls. It was that kind of atmosphere. Apparently Luke went outside at one point — halfway through the night. The guys didn’t know where he went, but they say he was gone for at least an hour, maybe more.’

‘I’m a little lost,’ said Catherine. ‘What has Luke’s trip to Tijuana got to do with what happened to my family?’

‘We’re not sure yet,’ said Ren. ‘But what I do know is that the Mexican cartels are recruiting American teenagers to take drugs across the border. There is so much traffic going through every day, Border Patrol just can’t check every vehicle and every person in it. A lot of these kids are strapping packages to their bodies-’

‘Hold on a second.’ Catherine shook her head. ‘This sounds ridiculous. There is no way that Luke would carry drugs across the border for anyone.’

‘He may have had no choice,’ said Ren. ‘Based on something that happened during his trip to Tijuana. It could have been anything. He could have hit on the wrong girl in one of those bars and had to trade his way out of the situation. He could have been forced to do it. Maybe he tried to get out of having to do it and what happened to you…and your family was the result of that.’

‘Me? But…there’s no way. Would these…drug dealers…come all the way up here to do that?’

‘Look at Erubiel Diaz,’ said Ren. ‘And not long ago, San Diego State arrested a lot of middle-class students who were dealing on campus and had direct links with Mexican cartels. We’re looking into it. There is also a possibility that Luke willingly agreed to take drugs across the border for money and may have made a mistake that led to something else-’

‘Luke did not need money,’ said Catherine. ‘Once our boys got good grades at school, we were very generous with them. Greg wanted to show them that hard work pays off — he wouldn’t give them money for nothing. They valued it. And they valued earning it honestly. In fact, Greg had given Luke a thousand dollars for spring break. Along with what Luke had saved up already, he wasn’t in a vulnerable position financially.’