Sam and Remi told her the story of what had happened on and near the Estancia Guerrero. They told her about the men who had tracked and attacked them, the vast plantation of marijuana plants and coca trees, the truck convoys. They described the doctor and the priest who had asked them to submit their pleas to Sarah Allersby and her response. And, finally, Sam told her about the Mayan codex.

“If the codex is in her possession, or is found to have ever been in her possession, then she got it by having men impersonate federal officials at the University of California in San Diego and steal it.”

Amy Costa wrote a report as she listened, only interrupting to ask for dates or approximate location data that had been recorded on their phones. When they had finished their story, she said, “We will be passing this information on to the Guatemalan government. But don’t be too impatient about results.”

“Why not?” asked Remi.

“The government has been doing a valiant job of trying to control the drug traffickers and growers, who are also destroying the forests, particularly in the Petén region, to make giant cattle ranches. But the drug gangs have them outnumbered and outgunned. In the past couple of years, the police have taken back about three hundred thousand acres from the drug lords, but that’s a tiny fraction of the total.”

“What about Sarah Allersby?”

“We’ve been aware of her since she arrived in the country, of course. She’s a very visible personality on the European party scene—beautiful, rich, uninhibited, flamboyant. She’s almost a celebrity in this city. And I’d not be at all surprised if she is behind the theft of the Mayan codex. She thinks laws are local customs for the unintelligent and unimaginative. But like aristocrats everywhere, she doesn’t do the unpleasant things herself. She hires people like the impostors who took the codex. It’s highly unlikely that she would ever be charged with a crime here.” She paused. “Any crime.”

“Really?” said Remi. “But she’s a foreigner just like us.”

“There’s a difference.” She paused. “What I’m about to tell you is off the record. She’s been here for years, making herself socially and financially useful to lots of powerful people. She’s a huge landowner, and while you can’t buy the old owner’s social status with the land, obvious wealth is certainly a good way to get invitations. She’s always contributed to the political campaigns of potential winners—and, even more important, to the sure losers who are well connected. She can accomplish a lot with a phone call, or even a hint dropped at a party.”