“Señor López also works for La Frontera. I’ve discussed your offer with him. I will be frank—it is a generous offer, and, under normal circumstances, it would be one that we would be very happy to recommend. However, as you know, there is a problem.”

“Anthony Jackson,” Milton said. “Yes, I know. We discussed it.”

“Indeed. Señor Jackson has been a valued partner for several years. That comes with certain benefits.”

“Exclusivity.”

“Yes,” he said. “Certainly at the scale you say you would like to do business.”

“But you still brought me out here.”

“Yes,” del Pozo said. “Because I’m curious.”

Milton spread his arms. “I’m an open book. What do you want to know?”

Del Pozo was watching Milton carefully. “How did you do it?”

Milton knew what he meant, but manufactured a puzzled frown. “How did I do what?”

“Oh,” he said with a smile. “You know.”

“I really don’t.”

“Señor Jackson’s arrest. How did you arrange it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Hector shook his head. “Come, now, Señor Smith. Honesty and openness are important. Please—how did you do it?”

“I wish I could help you, but…” He shrugged.

“Disappointing.”

“I didn’t even know that he had been arrested.”

“He was involved in a car crash. From what we have been able to ascertain, a car drove into him and there was an altercation. We know that Señor Jackson has a temper. We know of his criminal history. But, on the other hand, he is not a fool, and I find it very difficult to believe that he would do something so rash in front of so many witnesses. It appears that he had a weapon, and the police found it.”

“This is all news to me.”

“That is not the extent of his legal difficulties. When the police arrived, they found cocaine in Señor Jackson’s car. A kilogram. The police charged him for it—intent to supply. We’ve examined the evidence, and, as far as we can tell, there really is no possibility that he could be acquitted. There were witnesses to the argument with the other driver, there was the gun, and he can’t explain how the cocaine happened to be in the back of his car.”

Milton held del Pozo’s gaze. “I’d like to say that I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, “but that would be a lie. I’m not sorry at all. If he’s having legal problems, that means he’s not going to be able to continue to work with you. And perhaps that means the problem we had with exclusivity has gone away.”

Del Pozo kept his eyes on him, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he considered what Milton had just said. “No,” he said at last. “You’re lying. I don’t believe you.”