Capítulo 8: Wrong Answer
Bernal and Mateo made a grand entrance into the club owner's office by bursting the door open with their feet.
Mateo went straight to where the club owner was seated behind his desk and grabbed him by his collar pulling him out of his chair.
"What did I tell you about lying to us Jorge?" Bernal said in a steel voice as he strolled behind Mateo.
"I didn't... I didn't lie to you," Jorge the club owner choked out as Mateo pinned him by the neck to the wall.
"You did. Something tells me you know who took my sister. What do you know Jorge?" Bernal came and sat down on one of the chairs across Jorge's desk.
"I don't… kn..ow who took her," Jorge managed to choke out.
"Wrong answer," Mateo said applying more pressure on Jorge's neck.
"Don't you think it's too convenient that the CCTV in the bar area suddenly went bad the same night my sister came to your club?" Bernal asked.
"I swear… I.. Don't ..."
"You are not giving the right answer Jorge," Bernal tsked as he got up from the chair.
Mateo applied more pressure on Jorge's neck cutting off his air supply, Jorge started to turn purple, his eyes rolling backwards and Mateo released his hold on him. Jorge crumpled on the floor coughing and gasping for air.
Bernal came and crunched in front of Jorge. "Now, you are going to tell me everything that you know. Every tiny bit of detail that you think will lead to finding my sister."
"Start talking!" Mateo said kicking Jorge's abdomen.
"I don't know who took her, but I suspect my former bartender might know something," Jorge said still coughing.
"Who is that?" Bernal asked.
"He started working here about a month ago, but he resigned this morning without giving any reason."
"Where can we find this former bartender?" Bernal asked.
Mateo pulled Jorge up to his feet and pushed him to his desk. "Write out his name and address," Mateo said, placing a pen and paper in front of Jorge.
"I need to check my files to get his address," Jorge said in a shaky voice.
"Then do that fast!" Mateo snapped.
"We don't have all day Jorge, be snappy," Bernal snapped his fingers at him.
Jorge opened his laptop and wrote out his former bartender's address for them on a piece of paper.
"Will we be back, you had better made sure to inform us the moment you hear something."
"Okay," Jorge nodded, his voice filled with fear.
***
An hour later Bernal and his brother were at the Bartender's threshold. He lived on the outskirts of the city. The house was dilapidated with its rickety porch and a door that seemed to be barely hanging by its hinges.
Instead of knocking, Mateo kicked the rickety door down with his feet.
A young guy was in the living room with a duffel bag swung over his shoulder, he looked like he was about to step out when they arrived and the moment he saw them, he turned around making a run for the window.
Mateo chased after him, pulling him by the waist of his trouser before he got the chance to jump out through the window.
He took a swing at Mateo but Mateo dodged it and then gave him a punch in his nose, causing him to double over, holding his nose.
"I hear you are…" Bernal paused as he looked at the piece of paper where Jorge had written out his name and address. "Your name doesn't even matter to me," Bernal squeezed the paper and threw it across the shabby-looking living room.
He walked over to where the bartender was, still holding his bleeding nose and groaning in pain. Bernal punched him in his stomach and the Bartender doubled over groaning loudly.
"My sister, where is she?" Bernal shouted at him.
"I don't know who the fuck your sister is man," the bartender said, his voice filled with pain.
"Fucking wrong answer," Mateo kicked him on his chin and he fell to his knees.
"I'm going to ask you this last time. Where is my sister?"
"I don't who your sister is man," The bartender repeated and as Mateo raised his hand to punch him he quickly shouted, "how about you show me a picture or something?"
Mateo paused, and he took out his phone from his pocket, punching the screen he brought out a picture of Gemma and showed it to the bartender. His expression was a dead giveaway the moment that he saw Gemma's picture.
"I don't need to remind you to start talking, where is she?"Bernal demanded.
"I don't know her."
Bernal and Mateo both looked at each other and they chuckled. Mateo brought out his gun and shot the bartender in his foot, causing him to scream out in pain holding his bleeding foot.
Bernal walked closer to him and stepped on the Bartender's bleeding foot and he screamed louder.
"Your second foot will be gone, and so will your head if you don't tell me where my sister is." Bernal pointed a gun at his head.
"Ok… okay, I will tell you, please don't shoot!"
"Get talking," Mateo growled.
"The… there is this guy," the bartender sucked in a breath. "He came to me last week showing me a picture of your sister, he gave me some money asked me to give him a call whenever your sister shows up at the club, and he promised to give me more money if I do."
"So when my sister showed up at the club last night, you called him?" Mateo asked his nostrils flaring.
"Yes." The bartender nodded.
"What happened after he arrived? Where did he take her to?" Bernal asked.
"I don't know, they had a few drinks and left the bar together."
"Who is this guy? What is his name?"
"I don't know, he didn't give me a name."
"Do you think he is saying the truth?" Bernal asked Mateo.
"I think he needs another bullet to his leg," Mateo raised his gun to the bartender's left leg.
"Please don't shoot, please… I'm saying the truth….." he pleaded.
"
Bernal could tell that he wasn't lying, so he asked, "What does he look like?"
"Tall, about the same height as you, with short brown hair."
Mateo and Bernal both exchanged looks, and then Bernal asked,
"my sister's best friend, she danced with a certain guy, but doesn't seem to remember what happened next after she drank the beer the guy handed her. Do you know anything about that as well?"
The bartender hesitated before he answered and Mateo wasted no time in shooting his second foot.
The bartender fell on his side, holding both feet as he cried out in pain.
"My brother doesn't have much patience, and neither do I. So I suggest that you answer my question quickly."
"I was asked to slip a drug into one of the beer bottles after opening it," the bartender said between harsh breaths.
"How much were you paid?"
"Ten grand."
"Are you fucking kidding me? You practically sold two grown-up girls out for measly ten grand?" Mateo sounded even more pissed.
"I'm s…sorry," the bartender cried.
"But I'm not," Mateo said, as he shot a bullet into the bartender's skull and they both walked out the door.
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