Free An Inconsequential Murder by Rodolfo Peña Page B

Then, for a time he smoked small, Cuban panatelas because it was very fashionable to do so.
     
    Lombardo, on the other hand, was oblivious to what was fashionable and trendy. People mistook this for a stubborn devotion to habits, but in reality it was that he saw no need or reason to change. He clung just as stubbornly to his honesty and his immunity to corruption for the same reason, not out of any set of moral beliefs but as a way of life that he saw no reason to change. He had no ambition for money and certainly no use for power, so why change his way of life?
     
    Lupe said, “I know what I am going to give you as a Christmas present, one of those nice, light tan colored summer suits so you don’t have to wear this damned, drab coat in hot weather.”
     
    Lombardo shrugged and said, “It’s your money.”

    Lupe laughed, “I can see that you’re thrilled by the idea. You’re still wearing the same suit you wore at my wedding.” The waiter brought Lombardo his beers. It was still happy hour; beers were two for the price of one. The second beer was put into the little pail with ice where Lupe’s second beer was being kept cold as well. “I was really surprised when I got your email; it has been so long.”
     
    Lombardo poured the beer slowly into the frosted glass the waiter had brought. There was one thing that never changed in Monterrey—no matter what the weather, beer was served very cold. “The thing is,” Lombardo said finally, “I need you to explain some things to me and to give me some advice.”
     
    “ What about?” asked Lupe with a little laugh. “I don’t know a damn thing about police work.”
     
    “ Have you heard about what happened to Victor Delgado?”
     
    The smile left Lupe’s face. “That’s all computer people have been talking about today. People are really riled up; everybody’s fed up with all the killings, and murders. Every goddamned day there are pictures of bodies in the papers. They are saying they want the Army to come into this. People have had enough.”
     
    “ Yes, I know,” said Lombardo. “I have been assigned to Victor’s case. That’s why I called you.”
     
    Lupe poured beer into his glass and said, “Sure, what can I do to help?”
     
    “ Did you know Victor Delgado well, Lupe?”
     
    Lupe twisted his lips in the half-pout and half-frown that was his equivalent of shrugged shoulders. “He was a colleague. I had dealings with him, you know, professionally. We developed some applications for the University and Victor had to sign off on them.”
     
    “ Did you ever hear of him being in trouble, or having problems?”
     
    “ Victor? No, never. He was known as a quiet guy, a bureaucrat type. You know, kind of ‘gray’ professionally; not too smart but not dumb either, more of a technician than an executive; the type of guy who does his job and is happy with that.”
     
    “ Do you think he was well liked? What did your colleagues think of him?”
     
    “ I don’t think they thought anything about him. He was not the kind of guy that makes much of an impression on people. Certainly he was not disliked, I think.”
     
    “ Well, somebody didn’t like him, judging from the way he was killed.”
     
    Lupe was silent for a moment then asked, “Was he badly, you know, uh…?”
     
    “ Yes, he was pretty well worked over. That’s why this case is kind of strange. By everyone’s account, he was a quiet, unremarkable person—a bureaucrat, as you say, albeit a technical one. And someone picks him up, beats him to a pulp, and then kills him. It’s not a robbery—I know that. It’s not the cartels—I know it from the way it was done, it’s not their style. This is why I called you. As I said, I need you to explain some things to me.”
     
    “ Sure, what do you want to know?”
     
    “ Do you know anything about his personal life?”
     
    “ I know what’s common knowledge in the computer community. He married some girl who was a