Sacrifice Fly (Raymond Donne Mysteries)

by Tim O'Mara

  “It’s a different league.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said. He took the cap and threw it into the darkness.

  We stood in silence for another minute, waiting for Cruz—his back still to the four of us—to speak. When that didn’t happen, I said, “So, I can take Frankie home now?”

  Cruz turned and eyeballed me. Then he laughed, as did Vega. Ape just smiled. Frankie tried to take a step toward me, but Ape pulled him back.

  “I don’t think that would be a smart business decision, Mr. Donne,” Cruz said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “You’re probably right.” I reached back into the book bag and pulled out the two discs I had Edgar make for me. “You might want to take a look at these, Elijah.”

  “And why would I want to do that?”

  “It might be a smart business decision.”

  Vega looked at Cruz, who was trying to make up his mind as to whether or not to humor me. After a while, he nodded. Vega took the first disc and repeated the steps he’d just gone through. “It’s a copy, Elijah.”

  “Why,” Elijah Cruz said, “would you go to the trouble of making a copy of the disc, Mr. Donne?”

  “Another four copies,” I said. “Of both discs. The first one has to do with EC Medical and Medicare. The other has quite a lot of info regarding your relationship with John Roberts.” I pointed at the discs. “I labeled them.”

  Elijah Cruz digested this new information. “You have been busy since we last met.”

  I smiled. “Idle hands…”

  “No matter,” Cruz said. “They prove nothing. The information can all be explained away. Changed if necessary. They are of little significance.”

  “Not to my people,” I said. “The same folks who’ll be getting copies of those discs. And definitely not to the doctors, and service providers, and patients listed there. A lot of people’s lives are involved here, Elijah. You said so yourself the other night.”

  Elijah Cruz said nothing. He was exuding complete control as he tried to figure out if I was bluffing; if I knew as much as I was letting on.

  “Now,” I continued, “are you willing to take a chance with all those people’s lives? Your people? After all you’ve done so far?”

  “What guarantee do I have,” Cruz asked, “that this … information will not be delivered to your people if I choose to let you and the boy go?”

  “All I want,” I said in as clear and steady a tone as I could manage, “is for Frankie to go back home.” I looked at Frankie, Ape’s hand still holding him in place. As Frankie struggled, his eyes filled with anger and fear. “That’s all I’ve wanted from the beginning. You let us walk out of here, I’m not going to give a second thought to your business dealings. You want to beat the government at their own game, fine. I honestly don’t give a shit.”

  Cruz stared at me for a while, then turned and walked away. Ape, Vega, Frankie, and I watched as he made a slow circle, contemplating the situation before him. Ape and Vega exchanged almost imperceptible glances, and I could tell they had never before seen their boss caught by surprise. They looked at me like they wanted to do some real damage.

  Just wait. It’s about to get better.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught some movement on one of the small towers at the other side of the pool. I couldn’t look very long for fear of being noticed, but I thought I saw a flash of red disappear behind the concrete. Billy?

  “You!” Cruz walked back to me. “Are not the one making decisions here. You…” His finger was about a foot from my face. “I am in charge here. I will tell what happens next.”

  “Now,” I said, “you sound like Father Rodrigo.”

  That stopped him. Vega took two steps closer to us. Frankie moaned, and I guessed that Ape had increased the pressure on his neck.

  “You,” he said, quieter this time, “have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s amazing what information you can find online these days. Like the fire that destroyed the church.” Cruz said nothing, so I continued. “The papers called it suspicious. The police suspected arson.”

  “There was nothing to prove. It was an accident.”

  “And all the allegations that came out,” I said. “Years later, the rumors about Father Rodrigo and his boys. Horrible stuff.”

  “Again,” Cruz said, “nothing. A bunch of unhappy young men, looking for someone to blame their weaknesses on.”

  “How long did it take, Elijah, before you’d had enough? Before you asked yourself what kind of god would allow that to happen?”

  “You … you question my faith? You are a little man in the scheme of things, Mr. Donne. How long do you think it will take before you are forgotten by all except your family?” He allowed himself a small grin. “Your sister, Rachel. Your mother, Anna. She has a nice home, by the way. Close to the park.”

  “As nice as your mother’s?”

  Cruz flinched at the mention of his mother. I hoped that was a flash of red in the tower and not just my imagination.

  “She’s still down in Puerto Rico? Luquillo Beach?”

  That stopped him again, and before he could think of something to say I went on.

  “But her last name isn’t Cruz. She still goes by Morales. You changed your name.”

  Cruz put his hands together and then brought them up to his mouth. He kept them there while he thought. “You are a smart man. Resourceful.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” I looked over at Frankie. “We’ll be going home soon.”

  “Good,” Frankie said, struggling to get the one word out.

  “Just like that?” Cruz said. “You come here with some computer discs and some information you found on the computer, and you think it is enough to intimidate me into letting you dictate the outcome of this morning? You are greatly overestimating the value of what you have.”

  “How about this?” I asked, reaching into my shirt pocket and pulling out my trump card: the picture of the crucifix I had taken a few hours earlier. I handed it to Cruz. “How much is that worth to you?”

  Cruz just stared at the picture. His breathing became labored, and his confident stance wavered slightly, as if a cold hand were touching his back.

  “You broke into my church?”

  “Someone left a window open. You should be more careful in a neighborhood like that. It is still Brooklyn.”

  “You violated my church?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “But like I told you the other night, I’ve lost my faith. It’s no more to me than, say, breaking into a travel agency.” I took a step closer. “You took that crucifix from the church,” I said. “But not after the fire. By then the cross would have burned up with the rest of the church. The news reports said everything in that church was destroyed.” I pointed to the burn marks on Jesus’ feet. “You took it during the fire, and the only way you could have done that is if you were there when the fire started.”

  Cruz reached out and grabbed me by my shirt.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” he yelled.

  I waited a bit. “Yes, I do.” Looking over Cruz’s shoulder, I definitely saw the flash of red again, moving left to right. My hat was off, and I hoped Billy wouldn’t do anything reckless. “You set the fire, and now you use that cross as a symbol of your own power.”

  Cruz released my shirt and punched me in the stomach.

  I straightened up and caught my breath. “How will your people feel,” I whispered, “when they find out the foundation of your church is proof that you killed Father Rodrigo?”

  “No!” Cruz shoved me to the ground. I stayed there, looking up at him. Vega went over to his boss, but Cruz held up a hand to stop him. He pointed his finger at me. “When I am through with you, you will see your father in Hell.”

  “If that happens,” I said, getting to my feet, “I’d have to agree you were right after all. But when you don’t believe in Heaven, Hell doesn’t scare you all that much.”

  He turn
ed away from me. I now noticed the gun Vega was holding. He looked like nothing would give him more joy than using it on me.

  Elijah Cruz was not used to being spoken to like that. This was a man who lived his life in complete control. Smarter than the government bureaucracy he was so willing to steal from, and on the side of God. Who was I when it came down to it? A non-believing nobody.

  A schoolteacher.

  “It’s like you told me the other night,” I said. “A man has to believe in something.” I took a step toward him. “What is it you believe in, Mr. Cruz?”

  Elijah Cruz stared into my eyes for a half minute, took a step back, and motioned for Vega to join him. As the two of them spoke, I gave Frankie my best reassuring smile. Ape caught the smile and tightened his grip on Frankie’s shoulder.

  Cruz and Vega separated, and Cruz walked over to me.

  “I have decided,” he began, a touch of defeat in his voice, “to let you go.” Cruz looked at Ape and nodded. Ape gave one more squeeze to Frankie’s shoulder and pushed him toward me. I put my arm around Frankie and turned toward the exit. I wanted to get out as quickly as possible.

  We had taken only a few steps when Cruz said, “Stop!”

  I turned around to see Vega stepping toward Frankie and me with his gun raised.

  “I cannot let you leave, Mr. Donne,” Cruz said.

  “You’re willing to lose everything you’ve worked for?” I tried.

  He shook his head. “You’ve left me with no choice.” He sounded almost as if I had beaten him, yet I was the one with the gun pointed at me.

  Vega came closer and aimed at my chest. The smile he gave me was one of long-overdue pleasure. It disappeared as a shot rang out, spinning him around, causing the gun to fall to the floor of the pool. Ape lumbered over to his wounded partner, held him upright, and looked around to see where the shot had come from. I took Frankie by the back and pushed him toward the exit. “Go!”

  “But what about—?”

  “Just get out of here!” I turned back as Cruz scrambled for Vega’s dropped pistol.

  “Don’t do it!” A voice from the dark.

  Cruz picked up the gun anyway and, before he could raise it, a second shot fired. Cruz fell to the ground. He looked at the gun in his hand, but seemed unable to raise his arm. “Alex,” Cruz whispered. Ape just stood there, holding Vega, still looking around for the shooter.

  I stepped over and removed the gun from Cruz’s hand. I pointed it at Ape and thought about all the explaining this scene would take, and how much shit Billy and I were in for. I didn’t know how badly Cruz and Vega were injured, and I was not going to wait around to find out. With the gun pointed at the three of them, I ran backward out of the pool as fast as my feet would take me.

  I spotted Frankie by the corner and ran over to him. He looked like he was about to fall, so I put my arm around him. To our right, coming through the darkened playground, we saw a lone figure, head down, walking toward us. He was wearing a red cap and holding a black case, the kind pool players carried.

  “Billy,” I said. “You made it.”

  He looked up. It was Jack. Jack Knight. And he had a grin on his face you couldn’t knock off with a shovel.

  “Hey, Teach,” he said. “Everything work out okay?” We looked at each other for a few seconds. “Oh. I guess Billy didn’t tell you I was one of the ones he reached out to. He musta been scraping the bottom of the barrel when he got to me.” He looked at Frankie. “Hey, kid. Sorry about having to take that guy out when he was so close to you and all, but, if I hadn’t … we wouldn’t be here talking now, would we? Of course, if I missed by a bit, probably would’ve hit your teacher here.” He turned to me. “The old pussy got your tongue? Or you just searching for the right words of gratitude?”

  “I don’t know what to say, Jack,” I said.

  “That’s a first. ‘Thanks’ might work for some people, but coming from you? I don’t think so. I’m here for Billy.”

  “Yeah … well…”

  “Thanks, mister,” Frankie said.

  “No problem, kid.” Jack took a step closer, took off his red baseball cap, and placed it on Frankie’s head. “I’m sure Mr. Donne here has taught you all that important stuff, huh? Like, just ’cause you think what you’re doing is right, don’t always make it so. That how it goes, Ray? Did I get that one?”

  Before I could even think of a response, Billy pulled up in his Jeep. Edgar was right behind him. They both screeched to simultaneous halts and jumped out of their vehicles.

  “Christ!” Billy said, rushing over to us. “I thought we’d lost you.”

  “You did,” Jack pointed out.

  Billy slapped Jack on the back. “Thanks for getting back to me in a timely fashion.” He looked at the case Jack was holding. “I see you got my message and came prepared.”

  “It’s the boy scout in me,” Jack said.

  “How did you…?” I began and then stopped. I wasn’t sure what question to ask.

  “I was making a pass by the river when I spotted Ray here getting into the van,” Jack explained to Billy. “Tailed them around for a bit, and then we ended up back here. Positioned myself above the action and waited to see how the shit was gonna come down.”

  “Outstanding,” Billy said. “What’s with the bad guys?”

  “Three in the pool,” I said. “Two injured.” I nodded toward Jack.

  “Okay,” Billy said. “Let’s get the hell out of here. We’ll talk more tomorrow about this. I wanna hear all the details.”

  “Over beer?” Jack asked.

  “Lots of them.”

  Jack Knight turned and walked away. I took a step after him, wanting to say something. Billy stopped me. “Let him go, partner. He’s not going to hear you.” Then he called Edgar over. “Can you take these two home?”

  “You got it,” Edgar said.

  “Good work tonight.”

  “I didn’t do anything. I just…”

  “‘Just’ nothing. You were there, man. Sometimes that’s all you need to be.” Billy turned to face Frankie and offered his hand. Frankie stepped forward and took it. “You must be one helluva kid, Francisco. My man Ray took quite a chance on you.”

  Frankie held Billy’s hand and looked to me. “I know.”

  “I hope you don’t disappoint.”

  “I won’t, sir.”

  “Good.” Then to me he added, “You’re gonna have a shitload of explaining to do.”

  “I’ll think of something.” I stuck out my hand, and Billy pulled me into a hug.

  “Keep it simple,” he said. “Let’s not make it too long before we get together, partner. I’m available for nonemergencies, too.”

  “Thanks.” I searched for something more to say, but nothing came.

  “I think it’s time to go home,” Billy said.

  “Absolutely,” I said.

  On the way, Frankie and I went over his very simple story.

  Chapter 36

  DETECTIVE ROYCE LOOKED AT me and said, “So the grandmother called you, huh?”

  “Right after she called you guys, I guess.” We were standing on the balcony outside of Mrs. Santos’s apartment. It was a few minutes after nine, Sunday morning, and the sun had just disappeared behind thickening clouds. A breeze was picking up, and I could make out the smell of the ocean. Weather coming this way.

  “Gee,” Royce said, jotting that down in his notebook. “Missing grandson returns early Sunday morning, and the second person she thinks to call is the kid’s teacher, who rolls out of bed and gets here just before the police. That’s pretty … impressive. Whose phone you think she used, Mr. Donne? Hers is out of service.”

  “She’s pretty close with her downstairs neighbor,” I said. “The one she’s having coffee with in the kitchen.”

  “Right.” He wrote something else down. “She’s got a good-looking daughter, that one.”

  “Elsa.”

  “Elsa. Sure. She can make coffee for me anytime.”
He took a sip from the cup that had been getting cold on the outside table.

  “What about you?” I asked. “You made it all the way in from Long Island on a Sunday just for this?”

  “No, not just for this,” he said. “I was spending some late-night quality time at the shop with my good buddy Oscar Thomas.” I smiled at his use of cop slang for overtime. “Got a call about a gunshot victim at a local church early this morning.”

  “A church?”

  “The one the grandmother goes to.” He looked back inside and lowered his voice. “And when the responding officers arrived on scene, they found that guy we met the other day at the station. Elijah Cruz? That’s why they called me.”

  “Elijah Cruz?” It looked like I had more explaining to do. “I’m not sure what Frankie—”

  Royce held up his hand. “How about I tell you what I know, and then if you think you have anything of value to add, I’ll let you do that.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  Royce took out his notebook. “Priest called it in. Father…”—he squinted at his writing—“… something or other. Opened up this morning and found Cruz on the altar.”

  He went back to the church? “What did Cruz say?”

  “Not much,” Royce said. “He’s dead.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well,” Royce said. “Here’s the damnedest thing. Did you know that churches have security cameras?”

  I thought about my late-night visit to the church. “No,” I said, doing my best to keep my tone even. “I didn’t.”

  “Yeah. ‘Trust in the Lord, but everyone else—smile for the camera.’” Royce grinned. “Anyway, they got one camera, inside, focused on the entrance. Priest said they’d been broken into a few times the past two years, so—get this—Cruz springs for a little video surveillance.”

  “And?” I asked, thankful the church only had the one camera.

  “And … we got Cruz coming into the church very early this morning. He’s clearly alive, but he’s practically being carried in. By two guys. One huge, the other not so much. And the smaller of the two…”