“No problem. I’ll see you in a bit.”
We hang up, and as I leave the premises with a car behind me holding four of my guards, I wonder what I’m going to find today. Whatever it is, I hope it will help me. The break I took was much needed, but it’s time for action now.
Cristiano is already there waitingin the parking lot when I arrive.
The place looks like a dive and more like an old warehouse than where I’ve stored Eduardo’s other things. I imagine he got this place because he probably didn’t think anyone would look here.
My men park behind me and stay on watch while I get out of my car and make my way to Cristiano.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi. It’s this way. It’s one of the smaller units, so I’m hoping we don’t have to dig too deep. The security guard is already waiting for us.”
“This is all so amiss, Cristiano. I hate secrets, and I just wish Eduardo shared them with me.”
“Maybe he had a good reason not to.”
“I can’t think what that could be.”
“Don’t focus on that. Focus on the fact that we could know who El Diablo is today. We can finally get answers and maybe know what to do next.”
I nod, agreeing.
We head inside the facility and down to the corridor containing the smaller units. A man is waiting at the bottom of the corridor for us. He signals as we approach, and I give him a curt nod.
He opens the storage container for us, and all I see are boxes. Fucking boxes.
I already know we might be here all day.
The man speaks in Portuguese, telling us he’ll be leaving the premises, but we’re to call him if we need him to come back.
Once he leaves, Cristiano and I walk inside.
“Do you want to split and meet in the middle?” Cristiano asks.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
I start with a box that contains some old notebooks that look like they’re from our school days.
The next few boxes contain the same. When I check the tenth and we’re an hour into looking, I’m ready to give up, but I keep going.
“Alejandro,” Cristiano calls out to me just as I was about to tackle another box. “I think I got something.”
I move to meet him. He’s standing by a table looking through a wooden box.
I don’t know what I expected to see, maybe a picture or surveillance images, but Cristiano is looking through letters.
The one he’s reading makes him go pale, and he gives me an uneasy look when I reach him.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I think I know why Eduardo kept certain things from you. Read this. It’s a letter to your mother from your uncle Sebastiano.”
“What?” That’s the least likely thing I thought we’d find here.
“Just read it.” He hands me the letter.
I take it and start reading. It says: