Hernandez took a long, close look at Cindy, as if to make sure she was who he thought she was. “Okay, I’ll tell you straight, Cindy. Sarah, she was a looker with a very fine body. A lot like you, if you don’t mind me saying so, but maybe a little more, eh, up top and in the bottom. Smart and smooth as any girl going to U. VA. But she was from the street, you know? And she wasn’t ready to forget that. Now Irene, she was the real deal, and that was the shit Wash was looking for, you know. The right accessory to get him into the right place in society.”
“And she was a white girl,” Hannibal said. “I’m betting Sarah wasn’t.”
“Sarah? Perfect ebony skin, like Mary J. Blige,” Hernandez said, refilling Cindy’s glass, then Hannibal’s and then his own. “But you right, Esai, Wash always played the long game and his plan called for a white girl with debutante style. One day it was Sarah, the next day she was just gone.”
“What was Sarah’s last name?” Cindy asked. Hannibal grimaced.
“What, you think you’ll find her in the phone book? Oh, you’re thinking she drove up here, shot Irene and set Wash’s house on fire. No, the girl didn’t have that kind of hate in her.”
“Where were her people from?” Hannibal asked.
“Jamaica, I think,” Hernandez said. “Or St. Thomas. One of them West Indian islands. No, her name was Thomas. Sarah Thomas. Don’t know that’s still it. The three of us pulled some nice bits back in the day. But you can’t think she’d do this. If she was going to come after Wash it would have happened years ago.”
Hannibal wasn’t going to tell him that any number of things could make a woman hire a hit man years after a man dumped her. Aloud he said, “Sure would like to talk to her, though. Sounds like she knew Wash pretty well. She might know something useful. And she might want to know what happened. Any idea where she ended up?”
“Even if I did, I’m not sure she’d want me to go spreading it around.”
Cindy emptied her glass, stood slowly and smoothed her skirt. Hannibal saw the change but wasn’t sure if Hernandez did. But her face slipped through a subtle transformation and in five seconds his seductive chica was gone, replaced by the lawyer who had faced down government agencies and big businesses in court so many times.
“This can go two ways, Manuel,” she said. “Down one path, we go to the police with news of a woman who might have information concerning three recent murders.”
“Three?” Hernandez’ eyes narrowed. He must have been in court at some point in the past, because he certainly recognized her tone.
“Yes,” Cindy said with unnatural calm. “One of my coworkers was caught in the middle of this mess. Collateral damage as they say in war. Anyway, we give the police a name, a sketchy description, a college and an approximate attendance period. Oh, and naturally we’d have to name our source. They go thrashing around, as the police are prone to do, question everyone they can find, flash badges all over the place, harass her family and friends and finally hunt her down. She probably has nothing to contribute to their investigation but they make her life miserable anyway because they’re frustrated.”
The corner of Hernandez’ lip curls and he looks at Hannibal. Their eyes exchange silent conversation.
Your woman?
Yeah, and she’s more than either of us can handle.
Hernandez returned his focus to Cindy. “And the other way?”
“Well, down the other path, you tell us where you think we can find her. Hannibal and I speak to her quietly. Your name never comes up. If, as I suspect, all we get is background information we just go away and the police never hear about that conversation, or this one. That’s the beauty of working with a private investigator, after all.”
Hernandez raises the bottle again. Hannibal shook his head, but Cindy accepted a refill. He emptied the bottle into his own glass and stared at the dark red liquid as he spoke.
“You, chica, are a dangerous woman.” After seven seconds he continued. “I heard she married, but that could be just a rumor. I do know that she never left the state. The last I heard, she was running a gentlemen’s club over in Arlington. There ain’t that many so she shouldn’t be too hard to find. Good enough?”
Cindy nodded. “Thank you for your time, Manny. If this lead works out, I’m pretty sure we can keep your name out of this.”
Hannibal held the door for her and was about to follow when Hernandez called his name. Hannibal stopped to look back over his shoulder.
“One other condition for that info I just gave you,” Hernandez said. “You got to call me when this is all over. I got a feeling about you. You don’t quit until the job is done, do you? Well, I want to know what happened to Wash. He was a shit there at the end, but we were partners for a long time.”
Hannibal nodded and walked on. Outside he saw Cindy squinting to find the car. After the dimness of the club the outdoor brightness took on a surreal quality. They didn’t speak again until they were leaning back in their seats and the engine was murmuring under the hood.
“That wasn’t what I expected,” Cindy said. “Maybe there is a kind of honor among thieves.”
“Did you believe him? The whole time we were in there I was reminding myself that I was listening to a world class con man. Was any of that sincere?”
“I don’t know,” Cindy said. “That was a mighty expensive bottle of Spanish wine he popped, and that was before we asked the hard questions. I think he was really mourning the loss of a friend.”
Hannibal nodded as they pulled away from the curb. “Well, I don’t really care as long as his lead pans out. Right now we have some research to do and since we’re in the District already I’d rather do it at my own computer.”
“What? You mean you don’t know all the gentlemen’s clubs in Arlington?”
-15-
Four days had passed since Hannibal had last pulled into his traditional space across the street from his apartment. The sky was as clear there in his neighborhood in Southeast Washington as it was in the rest of the city he had just driven through, but somehow the sun didn’t seem to shine as brightly. Overarching trees certainly weren’t the cause of the difference. Even the older trees on the block were stunted and wispy. But the street, and even the buildings on either side of it, were dark with the accumulated dirt and air pollutants driven into them over the last century. And the narrow street and buildings crowded together in rows combined to cast one side of the street into shadow at any given time of the day except noon.
Hannibal wondered how many of his neighbors missed home as much as he did after just a few days.
Ray Santiago, who lived upstairs from Hannibal, stepped out onto the stoop as Hannibal approached. Hannibal smiled and nodded as Cindy sprinted past him and up the sandstone steps. She flew into Ray’s arms and clutched him to her. Ray was a little shorter, but stocky enough to lift her off her feet in the hug. Hannibal wondered if she would crush the breath out of her father’s body.
After a long moment Hannibal slipped past them and led them into his office. After the long embrace an awkward silence grew up between Cindy and Ray. Hannibal filled it by busying himself with the details of grinding coffee beans, fetching water and getting the coffee pot going. When Cindy walked over to look out the window, Ray stared after her, and then turned to Hannibal.
“Is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?”
Hannibal moved to his desk and started his computer as if he didn’t hear. Ray turned to Cindy and said something in Spanish. His voice was soft and low. Cindy responded in the same tone. Ray repeated his question, with just a touch more of an edge in his voice.
“I’m sure Hannibal has already told you the important parts,” Cindy said in English, never taking her eyes off the car across the street.
Ray shook his head. “Are you nuts, girl? Hannibal wouldn’t tell me shit. But I know when there’s something wrong with my little girl and I want to know what the hell it is.”
Hannibal kept his nose in his monitor, bu
t out the corner of his eye he saw Cindy’s head pop up as if jerked by a noose. She looked quickly over her shoulder at Hannibal before turning all the way to face her father.
“Papa, I’m really sorry I didn’t come to you, but you mustn’t be upset with Hannibal. I just wasn’t in any condition to tell anyone about the friend I lost, or even more that I let myself get swindled out of the money.”
“The money?” Ray asked, stepping closer. “What money?”
“All the money,” Cindy said with a heavy sigh. “Papa it’s all gone. All the climbing, all the progress I made, and now I’m back to square one.”
Ray chewed his lower lip. “This is about money? Come. Sit down.” Ray guided Cindy into the visitor’s chair and squatted on his haunches in front of her. Hannibal guessed that this was how their conversations were staged when she was ten years old. Ray watched Cindy’s eyes. Cindy stared at Ray’s shoes. Her face clouded up.
“I’m sorry I let you down, Papa,” she said. “I know you came to this country with nothing and scraped all your life just so I could make something of myself. I was there, Papa, I had the brass ring in my hand, and I got greedy and stupid and let it get snatched away from me.”
“How can a girl be so smart and so stupid at the same time,” Ray said, shaking his head. “What, you think the path to success is a set of stairs you just walk up? You think you fell down the stairs and can’t get up. Let me tell you, Cintia. It’s more like a game of chutes and ladders. That’s the way it is for everybody. Even Donald Trump has been dead broke a couple times. Nobody’s disappointed in you but you.” He turned to Hannibal, “Right?”
“What?” Hannibal looked up, surprised to have been pulled into their private conversation. Ray glared at him, clearly expecting instant support. “Of course, Ray. You’re right. I told her so before. But I think it means a lot more coming from you.”
Hannibal returned his eyes to the screen. He was trying to so hard to stay out of their moment that he was unaware of Ray’s approach until he was standing in front of the desk.
“So what are you working on that’s so important, Chico?”
Hannibal looked up, as if he had been caught cheating on a test. “Me? Oh, I have to try to find this woman who might have had a motive for these murders.”
“Murder case, huh? Well if the guy’s dead he could wait. I think Cintia needs you right now.”
“What she needs right now is for me to close this case,” Hannibal said. “And it’s murders, plural. That friend that Cindy mentioned that she lost? He’s one of the victims.”
“Oh.” Ray stopped for a moment, looking from Hannibal to Cindy and back. Then he cleared his throat said in a lower tone, “You do know what she needs, don’t you? You think a woman did it?”
“We had a couple other suspects, but right now this woman seems like our best lead.”
“You got an address?”
Hannibal chuckled. “It never works like that, Ray. But we got this lead from another suspect we’ve pretty much cleared. He thinks she might work at a club in Arlington.”
“A club?” Ray asked.
“Yes, a, er, a gentleman’s club.”
“Class girl or street girl?” Ray asked. Cindy looked at him, her mouth falling open.
“She graduated from U.VA,” Hannibal said.
“Oh, well save yourself some computer time, Paco,” Ray said. “She’s got to be working at The Lucent. There’s only a couple of these places around here. The Grill is a dive and Dauphine out in Springfield closed a while back.” “Daddy? Are you a regular at one of these places?”
Ray shook his head and stared at his daughter. “And if I was, would it be any business of yours, little girl?”
“I didn’t mean… I was just surprised, that’s all.”
Ray chuckled. “Not my scene, really. But hey, I’m a cab driver, remember? I get calls to those places all the time. And I can tell a lot by who goes, you know? Now the Lucent City Restaurant, it’s kind of an upscale gentleman’s club, and for sure they got the prettiest girls around here.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” Hannibal said. “A strip club hidden in Arlington. I thought they were all down in Richmond or Virginia Beach.”
“Well, yeah, they got a ton of them down there,” Ray said. “But don’t make no assumptions here, Paco. First of all, this place serves a decent steak. And they ain’t really strippers, more go-go dancers.”
“I think the term they use today is exotic dancers, Papa.”
“Whatever,” Ray said. “But the other thing is, it ain’t hid. It’s right on the main drag, around the corner from Route One, in the middle of Crystal City.”
“It sounds like Sarah Thomas might not be too hard to find,” Hannibal said, rising and reaching for coffee. “Wonder if these places are open on Sundays.”
“What, you think guys don’t want to see girls work a pole on Sunday?” Ray asked, pulling his favorite mug from a shelf.
“Never really thought about it,” Hannibal said, filling both their mugs. “Guess I can follow up on this lead right away.”
“You’re not thinking of going to this place,” Cindy said, stepping between the two men. Hannibal tipped his head slightly to glare at her.
“You want to rephrase that question, miss?”
Surprise moved quickly across Cindy’s face. After a brief glance at her father her expression softened and she placed a hand on Hannibal’s arm.
“What I meant was, you’re not thinking of going to this place without me, are you?”
Ray snorted and Hannibal worked to stifle a chuckle. “Well of course not, babe,” Hannibal said. “It sounds like a good place for dinner and a little investigating. The only question is, are you dressed right for the place?”
“Hey, my little girl don’t own that kind of clothes,” Ray said.
In fact, Cindy chose the basic black mid-length dress with pearls and her highest pumps. Hannibal had driven her back to her own townhome in Alexandria so she could get ready and watched the whole process with more amusement than lust. When she had changed her choice of earrings five times and gotten her hair just right they returned to the Volvo. But as Hannibal opened the door for Cindy he froze.
He was watching her face and saw her smile replaced by a look of curiosity. She was looking over his shoulder at something unexpected. Still, she sat down so he figured whatever she saw was not threatening. He closed the door and casually looked up the block.
The man walking toward them slowed his pace when Hannibal looked toward him. He was too far away to identify, not far from the corner. Hannibal would not have given the man a second thought if his face had not been obscured by the hood of a gray George Mason University sweatshirt. Of course there were millions of such garments in the area. This could be anybody.
But just to be sure Hannibal took a few steps toward the man in the hoodie. That man stopped, turned and retraced his steps. He walked quickly but didn’t run. When he rounded the corner, Hannibal broke into a sprint. His heart pounded as a feeling of déjà vu rushed over him. It was as if Irene Monroe had just dropped to the ground in front of him. He reached the corner in seconds and drew his pistol.
The street was empty. There was no one in sight on the entire block. His quarry could have stepped into any of a number of doors, or slipped into one of several cars. Swallowing a mixture of frustration, curiosity and slight embarrassment he holstered his weapon and slowly returned to his car.
“Want to tell me what that was about?” Cindy asked as he slid behind the wheel.
“Thought I saw someone I recognized,” Hannibal said, hoping Cindy had not seen him draw his pistol. “Did you know that guy?”
“No,” Cindy said. “And I thought I knew all my neighbors. That’s why he caught my attention.”
“Probably nothing,” Hannibal said. He fastened his seat belt and settled in for the ten minute drive to the edge of the state. In those four miles Washington Street became Route One and then Jefferson Davis Hi
ghway as they rolled into the non-town of Crystal City.
Crystal City is a commercial area in Arlington, but doesn’t quite qualify as a neighborhood. Sitting within walking distance of Reagan National Airport, Crystal City might best be described as an urban village, composed of corporate offices, hotels, shops, restaurants and high-rise apartment buildings. It’s also just south of Washington D.C. and straddles the busy main road into the city from Virginia. That makes the area rather unfriendly to pedestrians, at least on the surface. However, its core of offices, hotels, stores and residential buildings is linked not just by narrow landscaped parks but by an extensive underground shopping and entertainment complex with connecting corridors in all directions.
Hannibal was surprised to find the Lucent on street level, one of the many inconspicuous storefronts on one of the side streets. Evening was just rolling into the area, and foot traffic was heavier than he expected. With Cindy on his arm and no idea what to expect he pulled open the door and stepped inside.
His first impression was how clean and bright the club was, but that may have been exaggerated by his preconceived notions. It was indeed set up like a middle class restaurant, at least half of it was. The far half was more of a bar with two stages. One was already occupied by a shapely young Asian lady who moved more like a ballerina than a stripper.
“I thought we could get a meal before the entertainment began,” Cindy said in a stage whisper as the hostess approached.
“On Sundays the dancers start at four.” The brunette who met them at the door wore a broad smile and a modified bikini. A mini skirt covered the bottom part, but Hannibal thought her smile was bigger. “My name is Tahnee,” she said. “Welcome to The Lucent. We have no cover charge, but there is a one drink minimum per person, and the use of cameras, including camera phones, is not permitted. May I show you to a table?”
Hannibal nodded and Tahnee escorted them through the dining area. The music was not quite loud enough to be annoying, but it was upbeat and driving in its way. When they reached their table Hannibal turned to hand Tahnee his card.
Pyramid Deception Page 14
