Confrontation Ch 07 New Suspects

Nothing looks as good as an attractive woman asleep in the early morning. Especially after she invited you to stay with her the night before.

The sun is peeking through Elena's bedroom curtains at her apartment in Lima. I lay close in her big bed for the first time. She's still fast asleep, her face serene and satisfied. At least I hope that she is content, because I gave her my best shot last night, and I'd like to do it again.

I kiss her cheek and she murmurs my name, still half asleep.

"Carlos...," and she dozes off again.

I've been staying with her for more than a week now, recuperating from injuries suffered in Manaus, Brazil. Elena was hurt too, but she saved my life when a pair of thugs kicked and strangled me. They tried to kill me because of our surveillance of the bar and whorehouse across the street from our shabby rental.

Our mutual friend Jaguar had arranged for us to travel there to help him track the movement of priceless Peruvian artifacts to international collectors. He had a hunch they were being taken out Peru's 'back door', through Brazil and on to Europe. In fact, right now I think he's somewhere up along the border with Elena's two cousins checking it out.

Jaguar's wife Marina arranged for me to stay at Elena's apartment while we healed. That way, she could look in on us with daily visits. Her regular company has been soothing, and I've fallen hard for Elena. After what went on last night, I know she has strong feelings for me too. This could change everything in my aimless life.

Last evening Marina brought a bottle of wine and we finished it together before she left. Then Elena opened another one. An hour later it was gone and we were both feeling pretty good. We talked frankly, our words gradually leading to me waking up here beside her this sunny morning:

"Elena, this was such a good idea on Marina's part."

"Bringing over the first bottle of wine?"

"No, I mean having me stay with you here."

There's a long pause then Elena's feelings come out.

"I like having you here Carlos," she speaks quietly.

"Too bad I'm getting better so fast," I joke, "because soon I'll have to leave."

"Carlos, there isn't any rush, you know."

Then it's quiet again because we realize how this is unfolding. There has been too much unspoken between us, though I've already told Jaguar that I have feelings for her.

"You should know this, Elena. Being here with you has been so fine. I'm feeling close to you. I hope we're more than just friends working together on an awful investigation."

She moves close to me on the sofa and looks up into my eyes.

"Are you telling me something? If so, it's what I want to hear, you know."

"I'll tell you this way, Elena," I whisper.

I lean into her and circle her tightly in my arms. We're both a little tipsy and feel no hesitation in showing true feelings. Our lips are close and then they touch. Eyes closed, we brush them together a bit harder. I taste her lipstick and lick a bit, then she playfully nips at my tongue. Suddenly, I'm in her mouth and she's thrusting her tongue back. It's full-on, heart- pounding, lip-grinding French kissing!

Both of us feel the intense emotion sweeping over us. We aren't kids, but we're breathing hard like this is the first time. Elena breaks away and for a moment I think that I've pushed too far, too fast. But I'm wrong!

"Oh Carlos, I've been wanting this! I'm so glad you feel the same way too!"

"I do Elena. Yes!" and I put my hand against the back of her head to pull her mouth against mine again.

We kiss deeply, passionately. Then Elena surprises me by reaching for my shirt and unbuttoning it. She wants to make love! And I want it too, so I caress her breast while we kiss and she works at my shirt. This ups the intensity another notch, especially when my hand goes under her sweater to caress her fine breasts. The nipples are stiff with desire, and she moans into my mouth as I stroke one.

Now my shirt is undone and I feel Elena go for my zipper. I help her by releasing the top button of my trousers, and she takes it from there.

"Oh... you're a big man, Carlos. I like that!" she teases as she rubs her hand along the length of my cock outside my underwear."

"And I like to use it," I groan.

She replies with a sly smile.

"Good! I know a perfect place."

Elena takes my hand and stands up in front of me. I grab the front of my trousers do they won't fall down and hobble forward as she leads.

"Carlos, I've been waiting to show you my bedroom. Now seems like a good time, don't you think?"

Entering this until-now private room, I'm engulfed in her perfume. She pulls me straight to the bed, where she playfully pushes me down. I notice right away that a long dresser mirror parallels the bed- we can watch ourselves make love, and this appeals to the voyeur in me.

"Don't rush, OK," Elena says breathlessly. "Its our first time, but it doesn't have to be the last."

Now here I am watching Elena sleep as I remember last night.

This was almost too good to be true! We made slow, impassioned love last night in front of her big mirror. It lasted for a long time because we wanted it to. Kissing and touching, our feelings would crest, then we'd back away for a bit, only to rise again. We teased ourselves several times until we couldn't deny the need any longer.

I'd been married before, but had forgotten how something that was more than just sex could feel. She seemed to relish it every bit as much as me. We both reached satisfying peaks, then lay for a long time affectionately kissing. Now that our emotions had broken through, we just couldn't get enough of each other!

Finally, I rose up to go to my own room, but she would have nothing of it. Elena quickly pulled me back down to sleep with her. After we showered together, we fell into a blissful rest. And here we are this morning, me watching her chest rise and fall as she sleeps.

Eventually her eyes flutter open. It's a new day, the first in our budding relationship. I wonder if she has any regrets about last night?

"Did you sleep well, my Carlos?" she asks softly, and my question is answered.

"Definitely, but I'm already hungry for you again, mia Elena."

"Let's have breakfast instead, okay?" she laughs.

Over morning coffee, the talk turns serious, plans for me to move in with Elena as her lover rather than as a recuperating friend. We're both basking in what emerged last night and want to solidify our relationship. This could be a whole new chapter in our lives. We're both on a high and before noon, we're back to her bed again for more.

I discover that Elena likes to be aggressive sometimes, riding me as I lay underneath her. As she slides up and down my straining cock, her fine tits bounce deliciously, those brown nipples rigid with desire. I arch my back to thrust more deeply into her and she moans loudly.

The woman is a skillful lover- Jaguar had told me as much and he wasn't exaggerating. She bathes my tool with her juices and clenches it as she rides me. Every so often she shifts her hands down to press against my chest, pushing herself higher so she can come down harder. We're both gasping for breath until our energies are rewarded with more powerful orgasms!

I am going to like living here with her.

In the afternoon a phone call comes from Jaguar. Apparently he's in Cuzco and wants to tell me what he found there. First, we review our belief that truckers on the Intercontinental Highway and Peruvian bar girls who work in Brazil are transporting the ancient artifacts across the border. Then he has a strange question.

"Carlos, are you familiar with the RTag?"

"Of course. It's to track baggage. Why?"

"Because I think we could use something like that- maybe even smaller- to trace artifacts from Peru to Europe or the Middle East."

I'm puzzled. "But if you want to stop valuable pieces from leaving Peru, how could you...?"

"There's an old couple here," he interrupts, "who sell the real thing, but with imperfections- not museum quality."

"Where do they get them?"

"I didn't ask," he explains. "I don't want to scare them off. Instead, I've gained their confidence first by buying an inexpensive piece."

"Ahh... I get it. The RTag- you want to track what you bought...."

"Right. I'm pretty sure a trucking company called Intercontinental Freight is moving pieces that end up at Bar Antonio in Manaus...."

"Excellent! You'll send a cheap piece to him using that shipper, and hope that it goes on from there!"

"Exactly. But an RTag might be too big. We need a satellite-based tracker that's tiny. Something we can easily embed in the right kind of artifact"

"And you want me to look into it here in Lima, right Jag?"

"See what you can find. The smaller the better. I'm going to see the old couple selling the pieces again tomorrow. I'll negotiate for three more, different shapes and sizes to see what works best with a tracking device."

"I'm sure I'll find something that works. When will you be back here to show me what we have to work with?"

He goes into a detailed explanation of plans for the next few days.

"I'll see if I can get source information at their shop and follow up. But if there's nothing, I'll go down to Nazca for a few days while I have my bodyguards with me. Sniff around a bit there since you saw Nazca and Paracas pieces from the region go through Manaus. Either way, I should be back to Lima in two or three days."

"I'm sure Marina will be happy to see you," I comment, but there's some hesitation at the other end of the call.

****

Jaguar picks up the story from here.

An overwhelming sense of guilt punches me right in the gut because two nights ago I made a big mistake. There was hot sex with Mercedes, a girl from my travelling past. I'd never been unfaithful to Marina before and I feel terrible about it. I hope she never finds out. This awful guilt is a steep price to pay for some fleeting pleasure.

"Yeah, I'm eager to get home," I manage. "By the way, is Elena there?"

"No. Do want to talk to her?" Carlos asks.

"You can relay what I've told you. I'm just wondering how it's going at her place? you know...."

"Great! I'm moving in for good, Jag."

"What! Do you mean it, man?"

"After last night in her bed we decided on it."

"You snake! But I'm not surprised because I prayed to the Jaguar spirit for you two. It always comes through."

Carlos has always been skeptical about me talking with the ancient gods and he won't accept this either.

"Well... whatever you think, Jag. She just finds me irresistible, that's all."

"If you say so. When Marina comes over today, tell her that I miss her."

The truth of it is that I'm still uneasy about talking to her myself in case I accidently give something away. I'm new to this cheating business and very uncomfortable with it.

Later, I go back to the little antiquity shop and the old man recognizes me right away, giving me a brown-toothed grin. I can see that he chews tobacco by the matching colour of the finger tips.

"Back for more pieces, Senor? We have many."

"I am. I like what you sell and might add to my collection."

He calls to his wife in the back room, and she comes through the worn curtain across the door.

"Show him more things, Venza."

The stooped old lady beckons to me and soon I am standing in front of the small counter beside a wooden drawered cabinet. She waits for me to start.

"You have more old things to show me? Not Inca. Have you others, like Paracas or Nazca?"

"No. Only Inca. Nothing older," she replies, shaking her head emphatically.

Then, as if to prove a point, she solemnly pulls out all four drawers, one at a time to show me that everything they sell is Inca.

"Inca. Nothing else," she repeats.

"So much!" I marvel. "Where do you get it all?"

"Not stolen, Senor. We collect for years and we know some people who sell to us. Sometimes they need money for things they find. Some we dug up many years ago before the laws about that. It was for old age, our pension."

The old woman sounds quite sincere. It would be easy to believe her if I didn't know about this drip, drip, drip of Peruvian heritage to overseas collectors. So I scratch a bit deeper.

"And pieces that are even better, do you sell to museums and other collectors like me?"

She doesn't say anything, and I sense there may be something else here. But, I'm asking too many questions, so she cuts me short.

"Will you buy today, Senor?"

"Yes. Show me what you have that costs about the same as the one I bought before."

Venza pulls open the bottom drawer again, and lets me look at everything in it. Then she lifts few items from the next drawer up and sets them on the counter. Altogether, I'm looking at about twenty to twenty-five pieces. I focus on the largest and thickest ones, artifacts more likely to accommodate an embedded tracking device. I point to three of them.

"Show me those now." And she clears some items from the counter and takes my choices from the bottom drawer.

"You choose well," she encourages. "You are smart collector."

I slowly turn them and hold them under a bright lamp so I can see their flaws. None of them are perfect and I wonder where the really good pieces go- if they have any.

"I like these three." Then I surprise her. "How much for all of them."

She calls her husband to come back and they confer quietly out of earshot. I can see they're excited by the prospect of a large sale.

They argue a bit, then she gives me a price. It is in proportion to what I paid last time, so I offer a little less- a volume discount- and they agree. Their eyes gleam as I take several large bills from my wallet. Unless this old couple is linked to the smuggling syndicate, I'm sure they need the money. Maybe this really is their pension in old age, just like she said.

They urge me to come back for more as my interest in collecting grows. But they have no idea where I hope for my 'collection' to end up.

Later, when I check out of the hotel, my friend with benefits, Mercedes is on the front desk. She gives me a little smile and speaks softly.

"I hope to see you next time you're in Cuzco, Jag. I really do."

Unfortunately, my bodyguards overhear her and look at each other as though they've uncovered a secret. I simply smile and nod to her. As soon as we're outside the door they start up.

"Hey man, she was very friendly with you," Alphonse says.

"I hope to see you next time you're in Cuzco, Jag. I really do," Arturo mimics in a female voice. "So, what's up with that, man?"

"She's probably that way with all the customers," I lie, remembering how we rolled around in bed for an hour the night before last. I wish I could just forget about it now.

Then we're into a cab and on our way to the airport to board a small plane to Nazca. It has been a hectic week in highland Peru and Brazil, and some new pieces of the smuggling puzzle have been fitted into place. But so far, we've been working from the centre- transportation to and from Manaus. This isn't the best way to put together a puzzle.

Everybody knows that you start by building the outside frame, then fill in from there. What we need to do now is go back to the geographical edge, to the sources of the precious articles crossing at Inapari. The only lead I have so far is the old couple in Cuzco selling inferior pieces which they claim to have found themselves over the years or bought from other collectors. I wonder if its altogether true.

But they only have 500-year-old Inca material for sale. Where did those valuable things from ancient Nazca and Paracas cultures which Carlos and Elena saw change hands in Manaus come from? We're flying to the Nazca region to find out. From my Andean Experience days, and my current position in Acquisitions at the National Museum, I have some contacts who might be able to help me.

We have a charter flight, but this time we won't be crossing the peak of the Andes. However, there could be some danger in the early stages because Cuzco is situated at some of the highest elevation in South America. After that the way should be easy because the land drops off steeply toward the Pacific coast.

All goes well this time. When we land at the little airport, I remember almost three years ago when I waited for someone to join our tour group here. He turned out to be a revolutionary Shining Path leader using a seat on my bus as his escape to Bolivia. My friend Carlos, then a travel agent, had inadvertently set me up with this dangerous criminal, whom the police gunned down just across the border. [Background: Andean Experience Ch. 03: A Shining Path in Non-Erotic category.]

I hope that this visit to south Peru is much less eventful. We rent a car and arrive at a familiar downtown hotel a little before nightfall. The guy on the front desk has a triple room and we turn in early after a long day. Next morning, an attractive young woman greets me when we go for breakfast in the hotel restaurant.

"Jaguar! Is that really you? It's been a few years now. Another tour?"

My companions are interested, checking her out and making no bones about it. Louisa is another one that used to keep me warm some nights along the endless loops from Lima to Cuzco and back again. But I wasn't married then, and I've already failed once on this trip.

"Hi Louisa. Long time no see. I don't come this way anymore because I work for the big museum in Lima now."

"Have you got anybody there waiting?" she asks provocatively.

"A wife. She was an American passenger on my final tour."

"Ohhh." She seems disappointed until she notices the brothers with me. "And who are these guys? I hope they aren't married too," she flirts.

They don't need any prompting.

"Alphonse, and my brother Arturo. Not married. We're his bodyguards, his strongmen."

"Ooo. I like big, strong men! " Louisa lays it on thick, and Arturo picks it up fast.

"Do you have a friend who looks as good as you? The four of us can have some drinks tonight."

"Let me take your order first, then we can talk about it if I'm not busy."

It looks like honesty got me off the hook this time. I can't take any more risks with past female companions from along my old touring route.

I spend the morning trying to find any locals who are selling Nazca or Paracas pieces, items like Carlos and Elena saw transferred in Manaus. But there are no shops like the one in Cuzco. The local museum director is shocked to hear about woven burial shrouds and ceremonial vessels from the region being smuggled out of Peru. He can only suggest that some new source may have been unearthed by illegal digging.

This gives me an idea. Who has permits to dig, and what have they been finding? So, I visit the regional government office that oversees this to make an afternoon appointment. When I identify myself as a representative from the National Museum of Archaeology in Lima, there is hesitancy from the secretary, who passes me on to somebody else. He is rather curt.

"Yes, Mr. Arundel. What is it that you want?"

"Information about who currently has archeological permits to dig in the region."

"That's not usually available to anyone from outside the district."

"This is not just for anyone. It's for Peru's national museum." Then I take it to the next level. "Here's my card: Head of Acquisitions. I want an appointment this afternoon with your boss to see local dig permits."

"I'll go talk to her."

He comes back about ten minutes later.

"Ms. Gonzalves is busy today. She asks you to come back at another time."

I'm angry about getting brushed off.

"Tell Ms Gonzalves that I am just as busy, and will see her at 3:00 this afternoon. If she's occupied then, she'll have to clear things up for 4:00. No later."

"But...."