Sam said, “Can’t we at least get the Guatemalan police to take a look at the Estancia? Thousands of acres of plants in the fields and tons of buds in the drying barns are pretty hard to hide. And if they examined her operations, her offices, her houses, they couldn’t help but find—”

“The Mayan codex?”

“Well, that’s what we’d hope. But certainly evidence that she’s been profiting from these drug operations.”

Amy Costa slowly shook her head. “That would be too vast an undertaking. The authorities know that in the north and the west, the cartels have been operating in the big stretches of wilderness. The police would love to stop them. But what you’re describing won’t happen. If they found every single thing you saw, they still wouldn’t arrest Sarah Allersby. Don’t you see? She would be the prime victim. They could arrest a hundred poor Mayan peasants who took jobs tending the crop. All the action—the dirty deals, the money changing hands—took place in somebody’s fancy house here in the capital. In Guatemala, if you’re rich enough to own millions of acres in the countryside, you’re too rich to live there.”

“But you’ll pass on the information to the police?”

“Of course,” she said. “This isn’t one crime, it’s a war. We just keep on trying. What you’ve told me may turn out to be helpful, even important, sometime. It may put somebody away.”

Sam said, “Do you think we should go to the federal police too?”

“You can if you want. But maybe we can do it together. Are you free for an hour or so?”

“Absolutely.”

“Give me a minute to call ahead and then we’ll go.” She dialed a number and spoke briefly in rapid Spanish. Then she buzzed the receptionist. “Please have a car for me. We’ll leave as soon as it’s ready.” She explained to the Fargos, “It’s in zone four, a bit too far to walk.”

They were driven to the federal police station on Avenida 3-ll. The police officer at the door recognized Amy Costa and let them in. Costa walked up the hall to an elevator, which took them to an office.

The uniformed officer, who stood as they entered, was young and clear-eyed. “This is Commander Rueda. This is Sam and Remi Fargo. They’re two American visitors who saw some things you might wish to know about. Mr. Fargo . . . ?”

Sam told the story, and Remi filled in details and supplied the GPS locations of the places described. Whenever the commander looked puzzled, Amy Costa translated the words into Spanish. At the end of the Fargos’ recitation, the commander said, “Thank you very much for bringing this information to our attention. I will file a report, conveying your experiences, to the central command.” He stood to terminate the visit.