Alex made a beeline for the police station where the officer yawned as he filled in the complaint form. He was fat, with a roll of lard hanging over his belt and his jowls were covered with a day's growth of beard.
"You know, senor," he said, scratching his crotch. "You Americanos come down here and go to places like that one, what can you expect?" He shrugged and looked questioningly at Alex.
"It is not my money!" Alex said desperately. "There are the two women."
The Mexican cop picked his nose, then wiped his hand down the seam of his gray slacks. "Madre de dios!" The detective threw up his hands. "How can you take two mujeres, school teachers, to a place like that?"
"I didn't take them, they took me!"
The detective gave Alex a quizzical eye, but said nothing. There had been a recent shakeup in Tijuana and the new mayor was busy saying he would clean up the police force. He had already fired many of the old timers and detective Castella wasn't sure whether or not he was on the mayor's list. He shrugged. Probably everybody was on that list. Still, it would do him no good to have one crazy gringo in el jefe's office saying he, agente de policia Castella, did not do his duty.
"Probablemente," he said, "these women have already gone home."
"But…" Alex stumbled over his words. "But I was drugged. With narcotics. Your own doctor will tell you that. And they must have been drugged too."
"Si, si!" Castella was getting impatient. He was thinking of a hot, little chica waiting for him. One who needed some police protection. He grinned at the thought of the kind of protection he was going to give her. "What is it you have lost, senor?"
Alex, despite his dismay, filled Castella in with a detailed description of his wallet, lighter, ring and jeweled cuff links and tie clasp that had disappeared.
"Bolero!" The detective stood up, opened the drawer of his desk and took out a small, pearl handled automatic pistol. He stuck that in his coat pocket and then led Alex out of the dingy green room into the musty hallway where he signaled to a younger, cleaner cut detective. Obviously a rookie from the eager way he responded.
They drove to the whorehouse in relative silence, each immersed in his own thoughts. Alex had the sinking feeling that he was the only one in any way concerned with finding the two women. The fat detective was acting as if he had a date somewhere else and kept looking at his watch. The youngster would look too and nod his head every time the older cop did.
The doorman tried to slam the door in their faces, but it was too late. The fat cop looked slow, but he had his shoulder through the door while the kid was still trying to decide where to put his hands.
Inside, they pushed their way to the main room where the whores were already hard at work. Hurriedly, the projectionist snapped off the projector and covered it up with a sheet.
The cop studiously pretended it wasn't there, as if he didn't have to walk around it to talk to the man he wanted to see.
They talked in high-speed Spanish for a few minutes while the young cop furtively peeked under the sheet trying to get a good look at what was on the film.
Finally, the old cop stopped talking, sighed in disgust, and said, "Which one?"
Alex pointed to a tall brunette, pretty but starting to flesh out. "Her. Gloria!"
"Come!" The cop tilted his head and the girl followed along with one of the men. They went to her room where the fat detective rummaged in her dresser, turning up in a few minutes a roll of bills, Alex's wallet, empty, and jewelry.
As Alex made the identification, the fat cop said, "Bueno!" and handed it to him in a distracted manner.
He counted out the money Alex said he lost and pocketed the rest of the bills. He and the manager and the girl really started talking. For a few moments the conversation was really confused. Even the young cop looked as if he only caught part of it, and it was his language.
"Look," the cop said. "They say, okay. Was all a big mistake. You get everything back. All okay now, no?"
Alex shook his head.
The cop sighed. "Look mister. We put them in jail, they gonna be out again pretty quick. Then everybody, she is mad. They mad at me. Mad at you." He shrugged, saying silently but eloquently that he, Castella, would also be mad at this crazy American.
"They say, okay. You stay here with the girl. You guest of the house. She do everything you want, get everything you didn't get last night. All free. Okay?"
"Well…"
At this sign of hesitation the manager burst in with another torrent of Spanish.
Castella nodded. "You don't like her, you take your pick of the girls, no?"
"How do I know they'll let me out okay?"
Castella smiled. He knew when he had a deal. "Pedro," he gestured toward the young cop, "he stay downstairs and wait for you, okay?"
"About the two women, Renee and Fran?"
Castella shrugged. "Hombre! This man say they left with the other man when you go upstairs with Gloria. It is big insult, no!"
Castella exited, leaving Alex to figure out who he meant insulted whom.
When they were all gone, Alex turned toward the girl. She was already undressing.