“Five thousand dollars?” Scowling, he stopped and put his hands on his hips.

“Look, I’m a friend of Cathy’s, too. Your other friends seem to think I’m out to cause problems, but it’s not me causing the problem, it’s the money. Or more specifically, the fact that the money is missing. You know what they say—money is the root of all evil. And five thousand dollars is a fat wad. Even a good leftist can be turned around by money, I bet.” I looked suspiciously at his Air Nikes, the $190 kind.

“No,” he argued. “The money’s for medical aid.”

“Then why didn’t Emma tell me that last night?”

He didn’t answer. Had Cathy told him about the money, or was he playing with me?

“Because it was to buy heroin, right?” I insisted.

“No! Nothing to do with heroin. Medical aid.”

“Don’t bullshit me. I know the people who gave her the money and who set up the connection. I know the dealer and I know the deal. And the deal’s been blown. I know you were with her at El Nido. Now, where does that leave you? The five thousand dollars is gone, the heroin is gone and you’re the only person left. When the people I know find out about you, something bad is going to happen.” I felt like I was putting a cat in a spin dryer.

He slowed down again. “I don’t know anything about heroin. And I don’t have the money. Cathy said she was going to use the money for...”

“For? I can see you got money to burn. Two hundred bucks for a pair of tennis shoes.” I pointed at his feet and enjoyed the fear that flashed across his face. There are at least two or three deaths related to bad dope deals here in LA every week. We’re catching up fast with Washington, D.C.

“I got a good gig going here. Studio electrician. I’m union. I make good money when I’m working.”

“Get to the part about Cathy,” I said impatiently, looking at my watch. It was nearly one-thirty.

He sighed. “I’ve known her for about a year. I’m the one who turned her on to Casa Guatemala. When I met her, she was floundering around; she didn’t understand what was going on around her. She thought that everything that was wrong was wrong with her. Not getting jobs. Shit, that’s what they want you to think. I gave her some books to read, took her to some meetings. She started to understand what’s happening, how everything fits together.”

I imagined Cathy Vega reading Das Kapital like an eager student studying The Method. “Why Guatemala?”