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MARCHING POWDER

‘Why? How much is in there?’

‘Twenty thousand,’ he whispered, releasing his grip just as the lieutenant and his men rounded the first flight of stairs.

‘Why don’t you take something with you now?’ I asked quickly, slipping the key into my pocket before the police could see it.

‘Too dangerous. They’ll search me as soon as I get there. The cops wouldn’t leave me with a fucking boliviano. I’ll send Raquel to pick up some plata.’

The guards had reached the top of the stairs by then and were coming towards us.

‘Vamos,’ ordered the lieutenant, nodding to his men to take Abregon.

‘I trust you like a brother, Thomas,’ he said again, looking me hard in the eyes. I winked at him to say that I wouldn’t let him down, then they took him away.

Taking hold of one arm each, the two guards guided him down the stairs with the lieutenant leading the way. Abregon looked back over his shoulder at me and managed to get one arm free.

‘I’ll call you,’ he mouthed, holding his free hand up to his ear like a telephone.

He did call eventually. But this was the last time I ever saw him alive.

-||-

I found out through some contacts in the prison administration that Abregon had been reclassified as a high-risk inmate. The reason: planning to escape. They could give me no further details, other than to say that someone had tipped the guards off about his intentions to escape. Abregon was known to have money and a lot of influence inside the prison, so the police believed it might be true.

It was clear that someone was plotting against Abregon, but we didn’t know who and there was nothing more I could do to help him until he phoned. Once he had some money with him, I was confident that Abregon could fix the problem. He probably could have bribed his way out before he was transferred, but he never got the chance. It had all happened too quickly.

I told our friends to keep their phones switched on and waited for Abregon’s call. He didn’t ring me, but after five days his wife, Raquel, arrived to collect the money.

‘How much does he want?’ I asked her.