
Tampa Burn
Серия: Doc Ford, книга 11
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Several hours before Praxcedes Lourdes abducted Marion Ford’s son, he was sitting in a smoky cantina with his getaway driver, bragging about his new fame.
In Spanish, he said, “‘The visitor who burns men alive.’ It’s what the poor assholes in Nicaragua call me. The peasants. And in Guatemala. The ‘night visitor.’ They use my name to scare hell out of children. To make brats behave when they disobey. Understand? At a certain age, kids stop believing in Santa Claus. Even some of the saints. But they’ll never stop believing in me.”
Prax was smoking a Cohiba cigar. He inhaled, perhaps smiling, though it was impossible to tell because he wore a mask made of thin wire mesh. Guerrilla fighters wore identical masks during Nicaragua’s Contra war to hide their identities. Eyebrows and pink cheek flush were painted on the outside-a clownish touch.
Lourdes liked that.
The man always kept his face covered. When he traveled or went out at night, he wore surgical gauze, the kind that protects from germs. Because of certain Asian viruses, it was no longer an oddity.
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