Chapter 14
After coffee and brandy, the guests left, winding their way along the toll road through the mountains on the hour drive back to Mexico City. The cameras and equipment had been dismounted during dinner and the film was being rushed to a lab in Mexico City where it would be developed and then edited. A maid was posted in a chair in Jane's room, instructed to call Dr. Gorman if Jane might awaken and harm herself or someone else. He explained that she was in a state of shock, apparently triggered by the remark from Carlos about marijuana.
"I doubt there is any lasting damage," he told the group assembled in the living room, "but it's too early to say. I'll know more by tomorrow, and I suppose we have some decisions to make in that area anyway."
Mark was sitting back in the large colonial chair with his hands clasped in his lap watching Dr. Gorman intently. Consuela had just brought in fresh coffee in a silver service and was pouring for each of the three men. Mark put his hand over his cup when she approached.
"Thanks, but if I have another cup of coffee I won't sleep for a week!"
"Yes, I suppose we will have to consider that problem," Senor Guzman said to Dr. Gorman. "I frankly hadn't given it any thought."
Mark, who now understood most of what was going on, couldn't contain himself any longer. None of it made any sense.
"I've got a few questions, if this is the appropriate time to air them," Mark said. "I've done everything you assigned me, but to be perfectly honest it doesn't make one damned bit of sense to me.
"You've done well, Mark," Guzman replied.
"I wasn't fishing for compliments, Senor Guzman. You pay me well for what I do here, but I can't make heads nor tails out of what I've done. As I see it, all of this film we've taken is going to be cleverly edited into a pornographic movie starring Jane Horner, with an introduction by Jane Horner."
"Precisely," Guzman replied with a smile. "And it should be quite a stag film!"
"That be as it may," Mark continued, "you're then going to send copies of this film to about thirty P.T.A. and church groups who will all view it on the same night about ten days from now."
"Correct," Guzman replied, lighting a long cigar and sipping his coffee while Mark continued.
"From what I wrote on the script it would seem that the theme of the movie is that Jane is telling them that marijuana does contribute to sexual behavior, that she has experimented herself and finds sex with marijuana just great."
"Don't forget to add," Dr. Gorman interrupted, "that she wants the groups to stop persecuting the kids for enjoying some of nature's fun."
"It seems to me that you understand it all very clearly, Mark," Senor Guzman said.
"No, not at all! I've just stated what I know is going to happen. What I don't understand is why. It seems to me that these groups of upright citizens will go into orbit when they see this film. They'll be hopping mad and sharpening spears for battle!"
"Precisely, Mark!" Guzman replied enthusiastically.
"Then it seems to me we're defeating our purpose!"
"Which is?" Guzman asked.
"To see marijuana sales go up not down. The more tolerant the society is, the more we sell. It's as simple as that. When they get tough and crack down, our sales suffer. And believe me, this film will bring on the biggest crackdown in history!"
Senor Guzman motioned to Consuela. She picked up the silver coffee service and poured him another cup while he answered Mark.
"So you think we're working at cross purposes for our own goal?" he said. "Well, let's discuss some basic economics for a moment. If marijuana sold at a penny a reefer, where would we be? We'd be in deep financial trouble! So, you see, in the law of supply and demand, price must be a factor. That's why we can't afford to have marijuana legalized. If it were legal and taxed, all the profits would be gone from the business. Look at what happened to the liquor industry! During prohibition they were turning two and three hundred per cent profit on their investment. Today, they're pleased to earn five per cent on their invested capital."
"I understand all that," Mark said somewhat impatiently.
"I hope so, Mark, because that's what this is all about. This entire project is designed to do two things: create a demand, and keep the price up. When the leading anti-marijuana advocate turns pothead and sex maniac, the word is bound to leak out. Kids and adults alike will hear about it, and secretly they'll want to try marijuana and see what kicks they can put in their own lives. At the same time, pressure will be put on to really stomp down on the marijuana trade. There will be arrests and convictions, and marijuana will be just a little harder to come by. The result? The price remains firm, or even has a slight increase at the same time the demand goes up!"
Mark was stunned. It was so simple, yet it had completely escaped him!
"What about the adverse publicity?" he asked, his mind reeling under the impact of what he was now beginning to see.
"Mark," his employer answered, "we're one business that thrives on adverse publicity. Every time some local citizen's group cracks down on pot, our sales jump. Injustices like your felony conviction gain us hundreds of new allies. The law forces them underground. They see how the law is used by a small minority to rule the large majority and they become a lawless society, defying the very thing of which they are so proud-their social order. Take a good look at the United States today. It's going downhill fast. Demonstrations, riots, assassinations, heavy debt and personal bankruptcy. What causes all this? It's simple: the people have lost their respect for the law. Bonnie and Clyde are heroes because they defied the law. The law has become a tool used by a few miserable, frustrated Puritans to hold down the great majority.
"Give us plenty of bad publicity! It makes us look better, and it makes our product more desirable. As businessmen, we could hardly ask for more!"
Mark stood up and walked to the window. Stars twinkled through the branches of the jacarandas and the moon, a pale yellow coin, was rising above the mountain ridge He could see a few glimmering lights in the homes of the late people in Cuernavaca below. He knew his next question was dangerous, but he had to ask it.
"And what about the girl upstairs, Senor Guzman? We've ruined her life. What do we do with her now? What does she do?"
Consuela looked sharply at Mark, and Avillo Guzman's brow knitted with the beginning of a frown.
"You yourself said she deserved no better, Mark," Guzman replied. "I'm sure the doctor can bring her through her current crisis. She can pick up the pieces and start her life over. It's the very same thing many of her victims have had to do. She'll be all right. A little sadder perhaps, but much wiser."
"Do you really believe that?" Mark replied.
"Of course I believe it!" Guzman shot right back, a slight edge creaping into his usually well-controlled voice. "In any event, I'll not lose any sleep over Miss Horner's fate. She served us well, and that's all that concerns me."
"We could sell her for a handsome price on the African market," Dr. Gorman interjected. "With that lush, creamy body of hers, we could get the African whorehouses to pay a fortune. When those Negro bucks get hold of a white woman they maul her. Girls don't last long over there, and they have to pay good prices for them."
"My God, Doctor!" Mark said. "She's a human being! You can't go around selling human beings like they were horses!"
Hoping to head off the argument which was obviously brewing, Consuela stood up, stretched and yawned.
"I don't care what you do with Miss Jane Horner," she said, "I'm going to bed and get a good night's rest!"
"Consuela's right," Guzman said. "We're all tired. We can worry about Miss Horner's future tomorrow. Let's call it a night and get our beauty sleep."
"Senor Guzman," Mark said. "Yes?"
"I wonder if I might have a few minutes with you privately?"
"Mark, why don't we wait until first thing in the morning when we're both fresh? Let's you and I have breakfast together in my suite at nine, okay?"