By Miguel Reyes Razo
On Lafragua Street, headquarters of the Permanent Commission, the Investigative Commission of the Chamber of Deputies scrutinized the life and work of engineer Jorge Díaz Serrano. Powerful magnifying glass on his days in the General Directorate of Petróleos Mexicanos. Did he waste public money? Did he handle them on a whim? Did he use the position to enrich himself? Did you violate regulations of the Ministry of Finance? Was he irresponsible and authoritarian in that role?
From Tezonco 180, -Lomas de Chapultepec- his home, the Sonoran senator – recently arrived in office – traveled to that building in the Plaza del Monumento a la Revolución.
Deputies questioned him. Severe and relentless, they pressed him. Strength that they made him feel when they surrounded his house with police officers poorly disguised as civilians. The appearance of these individuals made them unmistakable. And if perhaps they judged it insufficient, they instructed him:
“If you decide to leave your house, engineer, give three hours’ notice. This time will allow us to organize the convoy that will accompany you.
“Don’t forget to specify the address where you are going.
“Notify who or who will accompany you. Provide the names of people you will visit.
“If you decide to go to a restaurant and eat there, you must pay food in that same place to four people who will watch you.
They suffocated Senator Jorge Díaz Serrano.
“I invite you to eat, Reyes Razo,” he told me. It’s a restaurant on Palmas Avenue. If you want to come to the house, we’ll go together. Whatever you want. Quarter to three, is that convenient?
That luxurious restaurant was in fashion. A man named Lorden was its owner. Their dessert “cherries with cognac” is famous.
“Here at your table,” Lorden boasted, “we inject them with great delicacy and Cognac XO.
“Do you prefer them flamed?
Lorden was, according to the tenacious reporter – trained in the police source – Don Manuel Buendía Téllez-Girón, the Chief of the CIA station in Mexico.
“Lorden and his agents proceed here as if they were James Bond. They act,” he published on his Private Network, “with a license to kill.” They violate Mexican laws. They meddle in matters of national relevance. They spy…
This is how the famous – unforgettable teacher – reporter warned.
It was Lorden who received us. Engineer Díaz Serrano and I entered. Attorney Enrique Mendoza Morales was two steps behind. He greeted the artist Adriana Roel. Lorden gave us a small private room. As soon as we sat down, an individual entered with a monstrous vacuum cleaner.
With snorts and pushes he looked for a place to connect it. She did so and there was a hell of a noise. He roared the engine of that device. Díaz Serrano controlled his anger and while he took a teaspoon he asked him:
“Please jump, son…
That man didn’t joke. He bundled up cables, pulled up the vacuum cleaner and left.
He thus confirmed that the small room had no hidden or poorly concealed exits. The character would not escape. With his pursuing colleagues he ate in front of the door of the small dining room. Díaz Serrano would pay for his expenses.
“How are you, engineer?” I asked him to start the conversation.
Without letting go of the tea spoon, playing with it, turning it, looking at it, he replied:
“I’m calm…But not very calm…
“The Investigative Commission does not seem to work on the path of truth. It offers excuses. It rejects my arguments. It ignores the whereabouts of people who should be called to appear. They argue that one of the individuals that I pointed out, who is key in this trial , now lives in the Republic of Chile.
“And what does that have to do with it, engineer?” I became interested.
“Well, given that Mexico’s relations with that nation ceased due to Pinochet’s coup d’état, it is not very easy to investigate that person. The difficulties are insurmountable.
“I see some bad intention in all this. It is vital that two individuals are brought in to corroborate my statements. Otherwise… Hey,” he cut in unexpectedly, “what are you going to have as an aperitif?”
“You first, engineer.
“I don’t drink a single drop of alcohol. I have it totally prohibited. Not even in dishes that have wine among their ingredients. Nothing. Not even in those “cherries in liquor.” Nothing. I think I already told you – he stressed – that I am members of a Group of Alcoholics Anonymous. A very exclusive one that – by the way – these days tries to support me, stimulate my spirit. They almost beg me: “Don’t relapse, Jorge.” They are very supportive. We “Double A” get stronger. ..
Engineer Jorge Díaz Serrano was right. Already in our first meeting on the table that adorned a beautiful piece of crystal given to him by Gromyko, the Russian chancellor, he had answered my first question:
“I will not run away. Nor will I commit suicide. I am an alcoholic and that is why I was on the verge of losing my life…
It was true. This is what I had written in Excelsior a few weeks ago…