The next morning, Mariana left early, saying she had a meeting with a client in Querétaro. I waited ten minutes after hearing the gate close and dialed the number on the paper.
A man answered, his voice curt.
“Hello?”
“An officer on the highway gave me this number. He said to speak to a detective.”
There was a brief silence.
“Name.”
I gave it to him.
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Salgado. I need you to listen to me without interrupting.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Your wife’s name came up in a federal money laundering investigation. She’s been under surveillance for almost eight months.”
I felt the room shrink.
“No. That can’t be.”
“Yes, it can. And it is.”
“You’re mistaken. Mariana works at a consulting firm.”
“There’s no registered consulting firm with the name she uses. We checked the tax office, the social security system, articles of incorporation, tax records. Everything is fake.”
