by Jaden Skye
“We can’t move anything in the room for a few more days,” said Ron. “Got to keep everything like we found it.”
“Where was Pete when they found him?” Cindy was all business.
“Laying here across the bed, butt naked, blood all over the place,” Ron answered, unmoved.
“Who found him?” asked Cindy.
“Charma,” said Ron. “The girl he’d hired that night.”
Cindy took a swift breath. Ron was giving her the official story but she had to take it with a grain of salt. What proof did they have the Pete had spent the night here? But if he’d been somewhere else and had an alibi, Pete certainly couldn’t tell them about it now.
“The police got here fast and took all the evidence they needed,” Ron went on methodically. “After that they cleaned up the blood.”
Cindy was startled by his nonchalance. “This is all routine?” she asked. “Things like this happen down here a lot?”
“Things like this happen everywhere,” Ron mumbled.
Cindy scanned the room carefully. She was disappointed that the blood had been cleaned up and wondered if blood spatter evidence might have told a different story. Had the police been careful enough about collecting it? Aside from the bed, dresser, flowers and cigarette stubs, there was nothing else in the room she could take note of.
“Listen, you’re not gonna have to spend too much time down here,” Ron wanted to take the pressure off her. “We got the girl, Charma, in custody. Pete was a regular customer and we got her fingerprints all over him. We even got the knife she used to kill him. Case is open and shut.”
Cindy needed to push the envelope. “Pete’s wife denies that he ever visited a prostitute,” she declared..
“Yeah, yeah,” Ron looked weary. “What else is a wife supposed to say?”
“She means it,” Cindy pressed forward. “She said someone dumped her husband here and framed Charma.”
“Yeah? So, how come we got Charma’s fingerprints are all over her man?” Ron countered, looking at Cindy as if she were a child. “Believe me, there’s nothing much to investigate, honey. Just a pained wife wanting to remember her husband in a better way.”
“Why would Charma kill Pete? What does she say?” Cindy needed much more than what Ron was giving her.
At that Ron rolled his eyes back into his head. “Why is a question that has no answer down here. These things happen all the time, too much drugs, rough sex gone bad, a fight breaks out, a knife nearby in easy reach and another guy bites the dust. You take your life in your hands when come into these places. Nobody tells these guys that, but they do.”
Cindy could easily see that. “The women who work here live in this house?” Cindy wanted to know all about them.
“Yeah, in this place they do. In others they don’t,” Ron went on. “Sometimes guys come and take them out and return them when they’re done. Some go to hotels. In this place, most of the time the customers come here to see the ladies. It’s legal here, nothing to do about it. It’s not legal to be a pimp, but the rest of it is legal. You know that the Dominican Republic is one of the biggest destinations for sex tourism, didn’t you?”
Cindy didn’t actually know that.
“They got all kinds of hungry guys travelling down here for the thrill,” Ron went on.
“Do you have evidence that Pete was a regular customer?” The image of lots of hungry guys coming down to these places disturbed Cindy. For the moment she only wanted to focus on Pete.
At that Ron stopped, looked up and grinned at her again. “We don’t have any evidence that Pete was a regular customer, or that he ever saw Charma before,” he replied. “The girls here don’t exactly keep records. But it doesn’t matter, the physical evidence is all we need. The case is open and shut.”
“Does Charma know this? Did she confess?” Cindy asked anxiously.
“Nobody down here confesses,” he laughed. “Of course she claims she didn’t do it. What else is she supposed to say? And for all we know she doesn’t remember. These girls are on drugs most of the time.”
Cindy refused to buy into Ron’s confident, easy going attitude. “Did you test Charma for drugs, or for Pete’s semen?” Cindy kept probing.
“Nah, nothing like that,” Ron rubbed his head. “We didn’t need to.”
“Why not?” Cindy was horrified.
“I told you, we got her fingerprints all over the guy,” Ron repeated. “And we got the knife she used to stab him. What more do you want?”
“I want to speak to Charma,” Cindy replied, remembering, once again, how negligent the police could be down on the Islands, especially about protecting the life of a prostitute.
“Sure, go talk to Charma all you like,” Ron agreed. “But it won’t amount to a thing. First go check the medical examiner’s office and find out more about the dead husband. That’s a better way to use your time, if you asked me.”
Cindy suddenly realized that Ron was trying to be supportive. He was telling it as he saw it, trying to save Cindy heartache.
“Thanks Ron, thanks so much,” Cindy said appreciatively.
Ron looked surprised. “Thanks for what?”
“Thanks for being here, thanks for helping,” she said.
Ron seemed touched. “Sure, I’m here and I’ll help you. It’s a crazy thing for a lady to come down and work on this alone. I kind of remembering hearing about you, that you had some kind of partner, right?”
“Yes, C and M Investigations,” Cindy filled him in.
“So, where’s the M right now?” asked Ron.
“He’s busy somewhere else,” said Cindy.
“That’s a hell of a partner, if you asked me,” Ron was surprised. “Look, this place is crawling with drugs, bad money, and lies. If I were you, I’d spend a few days, and then let the police take over. Tell the wife the police are doing just fine. It’ll all work out in the long run.”
Cindy shook her head. “I can’t do that,” she replied. “A life was lost here and someone is on trial for it. I have to be sure exactly what happened.”
Ron took a step closer to Cindy. “Listen, this guy’s life was lost long before he ended up dead here. People come here every day with their lives lost. It’s only a matter of time what happens next.”
Cindy liked and respected Ron. “That’s a good way of putting it,” she replied.
“Well, thanks for the compliment,” Ron was pleased. “And do what I say. Don’t knock your head against a wall. Go to the beach. Enjoy a swim. Take it easy on yourself.”
Chapter 4
Even though Cindy would have liked nothing more than to take a swim at the beach, she headed directly to the medical examiner’s office after she left the brothel. Fortunately, it was only a short cab ride away.
To her surprise the medical examiner, Andrew Grone, was ready for Cindy when she arrived. A balding, middle aged Caribbean man, dressed in white, he greeted her professionally and invited her into his small office.
“We have most of the results ready for you by now,” he started out.
Cindy sat down in his office opposite him. “An open and shut case?” she asked.
Andrew smiled wistfully. “Is that what the police told you?” he asked.
“Yes,” Cindy nodded. “They probably say that about most cases, right?”
“Well,” Andrew paused, “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly. But in this case they’ve got a lot of evidence. I can see why they’d say open and shut.”
“They’ve got her fingerprints all over him,” said Cindy.
“Right,” he replied.“ And her fingerprints on the knife.”
“Where were the wounds, exactly?” asked Cindy. “What exactly was the final cause of death? And, what time did he die?”
“Wow,” Andrew’s eyes opened wide, surprised. “You’re not taking anything for granted, are you?”
“Of course not,” said Cindy. “Everything has to line up in perfect order.”
“Don’t I kn
ow it,” Andrew’s voice dropped. “But most cases don’t line up in perfect order, do they? Not down here anyway. There’s always some strand left hanging that you can pick away at.”
Cindy was grateful for his comment. “But the police don’t pick through those strands, do they?” she asked.
Andrew leaned his elbows closer to Cindy on the desk. “Most of the time they don’t,” he conceded. “They’re satisfied with a preponderance of evidence. And sometimes they can smell the killer a mile away.”
“That’s where I come in,” Cindy smiled. She liked Andrew and respected his honesty. “I’m hired to explore at all possibilities.”
“You’re hired to see if someone else killed this guy?” asked Andrew.
“Absolutely,” said Cindy. “I’m also hired to see if there were drugs or poison in his body? Is there a way to tell if he’d ejaculated recently? Has that all been looked at?”
Andrew leaned a bit back. “There were some drugs in his system, recreational drugs. Nothing particularly significant. We didn’t check for poison, or to see if he’d ejaculated. His death was caused directly by repeated knife wounds he suffered to the neck. Mr. Twain bled out. Time of death was around two a.m.
It was strange hearing Pete suddenly referred to as Mr. Twain.
“The claim is that the prostitute stabbed him,” Cindy zeroed in. “Didn’t Mr. Twain scream out? How is it possible that no one heard him?”
“That’s not my purview,” Andrew stopped her questioning in midstream. “Good questions, though.”
“Have the police asked or answered these points?” asked Cindy.
“Look, I’m not here to defend the police,” said Andrew. “I’m just here to tell you about the condition of Peter Twain’s body. The time of death was around two a.m. The police were called about 6 a.m.”
“He was just left lying there bleeding?” Cindy was appalled. It didn’t make sense.
“The woman in custody, Charma, could have panicked and ran out before she realized the extent of his wounds. When she came back later, she found him,” said Andrew.
“Charma claims she didn’t do it,” Cindy repeated.
“You’ll have to take questions like that up with the police. All I can tell you is that the victim was repeatedly stabbed and died of his wounds,” Andrew really had nothing more to add.
“Can you check the contents of his body further?” asked Cindy.
“Not unless I get a request from the police,” Andrew began pushing himself back from his desk and then stood up, suddenly finished with the conversation. ”Thanks for coming and checking,” he said then before turning away. “You’re one tough gal, that’s for certain. This guy’s wife must mean business. She certainly found herself a great detective.”
*
Cindy left the medical examiner’s office unsatisfied. The visit had actually raised more questions than she had at first. Cindy wondered about what happened between the time Pete died and when his body was found. What was Charma’s alibi? Had it even been checked? This lackadaisical attitude extended through every aspect of law enforcement down here. They probably saw so many cases like this, they did a superficial examination and jumped to a quick conclusion. It was easier and cheaper that way as well. Most people probably went along with their conclusions, didn’t even think about taking the system on.
As Cindy jumped into a cab back to the hotel, she was glad she was down here investigating. Loretta was right, nothing was what it seemed. There was more here than met the eye, much more. And for all anyone knew, Loretta’s life could be in danger as well.
*
Once back in the hotel, Cindy called for lunch up in her room. Before she called Loretta and reported what she’d found Cindy wanted to take some time to herself. She hadn’t taken time alone since she’d arrived and she badly needed it. She would change into shorts and a shirt, eat her lunch and then spend the rest of the afternoon out on the patio looking into Pete’s life. She had to go through his social media and check emails and it would take time. Usually this was something Mattheus would be help with. But it was good to be as busy as she was now though, unable to think much about Mattheus, where he was or how he was doing.
Cindy changed and washed up. Then she ate the crisp salmon, home fries and salad that was brought to the room. She ate slowly, savoring each bite, intermittently wondering whether Mattheus was thinking of her at all?
After lunch Cindy decided to check her own emails before investigating into Pete. She scanned through them quickly, and as she got to the end, despite herself, her heart missed a beat. There was nothing there from Mattheus. So much for that, Cindy thought, as she grabbed her laptop and went out on the patio to get to work.
*
It was warm and moist outside, but good to be outdoors under the sky. Cindy quickly went onto Pete’s Facebook page. Before she even arrived, Cindy had Loretta send her Pete’s passwords and access to his emails. Cindy trusted that Loretta had sent all of them. At least Cindy would start with what she had, if she needed more she’d ask her.
Pete’s Facebook page showed an upstanding, handsome, successful guy, in the prime of life with a beautiful wife and lots of good friends. A pillar of the Midwestern community he lived in. He and Loretta didn’t have children, so that part of his life was absent from his page. His time seemed to be filled with sports, travel, wild life excursions, and community activities. At most of the community activities, Loretta was as his side, smiling for all the world to see. At the bottom of the page there were also photos of endangered species with Pete standing bravely beside them.
Cindy tried to remember anything she could about him back in college, but she’d only met him briefly and it was now a blur. Cindy then flipped onto Loretta’s Facebook page to see the other part of the marriage. Loretta’s life was spread out in its glory, filled with many friends, parties, and social activities she attended, some with Pete, some not. Her well known, wedding gown boutique was front and center, claiming attention immediately. The boutique catered to those who could afford a wedding of their dreams. The caption read, “Come to the boutique and become the princess on your wedding day that you always wanted to be.” How ironic, thought Cindy, that Loretta’s own marriage should end with her husband found stabbed to death in a whorehouse.
Cindy sighed and turned away from the page, thinking of the wedding venues in Aruba she and Mattheus had just been searching through. Most likely that phase of Cindy’s life was now over forever. She couldn’t imagine that she would ever again need or want a wedding dress of her own again.
Cindy put her head back and looked up at the sky. Thick, white clouds were passing overheard, with random birds flying by. From the looks of what she’d seen about Pete so far, Loretta seemed to have a point. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who would want or need to frequent prostitutes. He was great looking and successful. If he’d needed something on the side, he certainly could have had any woman he wanted.
Cindy’s phone rang suddenly then, interrupting her thoughts. She picked up grateful to talk to someone now.
“How’s it going? What happened in the whorehouse?” Loretta asked. “Did you talk to the girl?”
“Which girl, Charma?” asked Cindy.
“Who else?” said Loretta, irritated. “It’s creepy enough that you actually went there, I didn’t imagine you’d be spending time talking to the low life girls who live there.”
Cindy thought for a second of the girls she’d seen lounging around. It was painful to see how they were living but they’d seemed friendly and pleasant in their own way. Cindy hardly thought of them as low lives.
“Charma’s in custody,” Cindy reminded Loretta then. “She wasn’t there to be spoken to.”
“I know that,” Loretta’s voice rose. “So, why did you even go there? What was really the point of it all?”
“We always go to the scene of the crime first,” said Cindy. “I told you, it’s routine.”
“So, what did you find there?
What? Tell me,” Loretta insisted in a strident tone.
Cindy could feel how urgently Loretta wanted to know about the life inside the house where her husband had been found, and how upsetting it was for her to ask about it.
“I saw the room Pete was found in,” Cindy reported and I spoke to a policeman who was stationed there.”
“Stationed in the room? Why?” Loretta grew breathless.
“They’re making sure nothing is moved for now,” Cindy reported.
“What about the room? What about it?” Loretta sounded agitated.
“It was a small, musty room. The bed was stripped bare,” Cindy answered simply.
“So, what was the good of seeing it? What did you find?” Loretta couldn’t let go.
“You don’t always know what you’ve seen immediately,” Cindy tried to calm her. “You look around, you absorb details that become pieces of a puzzle that suddenly fit together later. Sometimes one detail that seemed like nothing when you saw it, brings light to the entire case later on.”
“Oh God, oh God,” Loretta started murmuring. “What are you doing right now?”
“I’m here in the hotel room,” said Cindy calmly, “going over the details of Pete’s life.”
“What kind of details? What do you want to know?” Loretta was on the alert. “I told you to ask me.”
“I need to know whatever I can,” said Cindy. “How else can I find out why someone wanted to kill him?”
“Well, let’s get together immediately then and you can ask me whatever you want,” said Loretta. “I’ll fill you in better than a hundred pages on the web.”
“Fine, said Cindy, “do you want to come my room now?”
“No, I’m sick of being in this hotel,” Loretta became more agitated. “I need to be outdoors. Pete would never have stayed cooped up in a room. Let’s do something he would have done. Let’s get out of here and go somewhere else.”
Although Cindy was momentarily startled, she felt it was a good idea. She didn’t mind getting out of the hotel herself and seeing more of the island. Beyond that, it was very likely that she’d learn much more about Pete from Loretta when she was distracted and they were on the move.
