Charles Willeford - Way We Die Now

by Unknown

  There was a dish of jalapenos for Hoke, black and green olives, and a bowl of jellied cranberry sauce. Hoke distributed slices of turkey and then sat in his chair as Ellita passed around the other plates of food.

  There was a knock on the front door. Ellita got up. "I'll get it."

  "If it's anyone for the girls," Hoke said as he chopped a jalapeno over his turkey slices, "tell them we're eating now and to come back in an hour."

  "Ellita," Sue Ellen said, "says that little car across the street's a Henry J. How much would a little car like that be worth today, Daddy? I've never even seen one before, and we get just about everything through the car wash."

  "I don't know, sweetie. Back in the fifties you could pick up a secondhand Henry J for about a hundred bucks. A used one, I mean. But after twenty years a car in Florida becomes a classic, so it would all depend on how much a collector would be willing to pay for it."

  "D'you think I could talk the owner into a Simoniz job? I could do it Sunday and give him a better price than he could get down at the car wash."

  "We're going to the Sanchezes' Sunday afternoon. Remember?"

  "If I can make thirty-eight bucks on a wax job, I'll skip the party. I'm not all that thrilled about--"

  Ellita entered the dining room with Donald Hutton. He was carrying a small aluminum coffeepot in his right hand.

  "This is our neighbor from across the street," Ellita said, "Mr. Hutton. You already know Sergeant Moseley, but these are his daughters, Sue Ellen and Aileen."

  The girls nodded and smiled. Hutton shifted the coffeepot to his left hand and shook hands awkwardly with the two seated girls. He cleared his throat and lifted one corner of his mouth in a lopsided smile. "I, ah, was only asking Ms. sanchez here for a pot of hot water, thinking I'd brew up some instant coffee. My electricity hasn't been turned on yet, and I don't want to go out for anything because the man could show up at any time. I certainly didn't invite myself to dinner." He looked at Hoke, who said nothing in return.

  "I invited you," Ellita said, gesturing to Aileen. Aileen got up and brought a chair in from the kitchen and placed it next to her seat. Sue Ellen went into the kitchen for silverware and another plate. Ellita took the plate from Sue Ellen and filled it. Hutton sat in the chair Aileen brought to the table, shifting the empty pot from one hand to the other; then he placed it on the floor between his feet.

  "Dig in, Mr. Hutton," Hoke said. "None of us cares for dark meat, so Ellita usually cooks a turkey breast instead of the whole bird, except when she fixes -mole- sauce."

  Hoke passed Hutton the dressing and the gravy boat. His fingers trembled slightly from rage, although his voice hadn't betrayed him. What he wanted to do was kick Ellita squarely in her big fat ass! What in the hell was the matter with her, inviting this bastard to the table?

  "This really looks good," Hutton said. "It's been a long time since I've had a home-cooked meal."

  "Did your wife die, Mr. Hutton?" Sue Ellen said.

  "That's a personal question, Sue Ellen," Hoke said.

  "Oh, that's quite all right," Hutton said, smiling as he spread a heaping tablespoonful of cranberry sauce on his turkey. "I've never been married. I came close a couple of times, but somehow I just never got around to it. I'm fortyfive now, and it's a little too late to start a family, I guess."

  "We were talking earlier about your Henry J," Sue Ellen said. "How much is it worth, a little antique car like that?"

  "It isn't for sale. It's the only car I've got left. At one time I collected classic cars, but I kept the little Henry J. It's only got twenty-seven thousand miles on it, and I'll just use it for transportation."

  "Would you like a beer, Mr. Hutton?" Ellita asked.

  "I'm not allowed to drink." Hutton shot a quick glance at Hoke. "Doctor's orders," he added.

  What a bastard, Hoke thought; did Hutton think he would turn him in to his parole officer for drinking a lousy beer?

  "I wouldn't mind some coffee, though," Hutton said, smiling at Ellita.

  "We usually have coffee later, with dessert. Cuban coffee. And we're having -Tres Leches- for dessert."

  "Three milks?"

  "It's a homemade custard. I haven't started the coffee yet, but--" Ellita started to get up.

  "Sit down, please. I'm in no hurry for coffee."

  Ellita sat down, and Aileen jumped up. "Let me make it, Ellita. I know he wants his coffee now, or he wouldn't've brought his pot over."

  "Please--" Hutton held up his right hand.

  Aileen went into the kitchen.

  "I work at the Green Lakes Car Wash," Sue Ellen said. "But I can do wax jobs for people on my own time. I could do a nice Simoniz job on that Henry J for you at a bargain price. Thirty-eight dollars. It'll cost you fifty at the car wash. I can't do it this Sunday because we're going to a party. But I can do it next Sunday."

  "That sounds fair to me." Hutton nodded. "I don't have a garage or a carport, so it might be a good idea. If it's going to sit out in the sun all day, that might be the thing to do."

  "Sunday week, then, Mr. Hutton. I'll also bring along a can of new car spray, and you can keep it in your car. It'll look like a new car when I finish, so you'll want it to smell like one, too."

  "Sure. Why not? This turkey's wonderful, Ms. Sanchez."

  Aileen came back from the kitchen. "There's a van over in front of your house, Mr. Hutton."

  "That's probably the FPL man." He started to get up.

  "I'll go," Hoke said. He got up and placed a hand on Hutton's shoulder. "I know where your meter is. Finish your dinner." Hoke left the house and went across the street. He hadn't been able to take another bite after Hutton had sat at the table.

  After the Florida Power electrician had turned on the electricity, Hoke signed "D. Hutton" and the time on the man's clipboard. He finished his cigarette before he went back to his house. He had calmed down by this time and was half amused by his former anger. He decided to say nothing to Ellita. It was as much her house as it was his, and if she wanted to invite the killer to dinner, she was entitled to feed him.

  When Hoke took his place at the head of the table again, Ellita was nursing Pepe. She had folded her T-shirt back, exposing her large alabaster breasts, with faint tiny blue veins. Hutton, a little bug-eyed, was trying to keep his violet eyes off them but couldn't quite manage it. He stared at his plate, and then cut his eyes over, and then shifted back to his plate again, obviously discomfited.

  Hoke was able to eat now. He finished quickly so the others could get to their desserts and coffee. Hoke enjoyed Hutton's uneasiness. Hoke hadn't paid that much attention to Ellita's breasts before, but he saw them with new eyes, thanks to Hutton. Ellita was a D cup before she began nursing, but her breasts were much larger now. Pepe, redfaced, nursed audibly.

  Hutton refused a second cup of coffee, finished his custard, thanked Ellita again, and left the house. Aileen walked him to the front door and then came back, hesitating in the archway between the living and dining room. Aileen looked at her sister and giggled.

  "Did you notice his eyelashes?"

  "Did I?" Sue Ellen rolled her brown eyes. "I'd give my left ovary for eyelashes like that."

  "His eyes are violet, not blue," Ellita said. "Just like Elizabeth Taylor's."

  "Jesus Christ," Hoke said, and he threw his napkin down on the table. He left the table and went into the living room to catch the last half of the -Kojak- rerun on Channel 33. The women cleared the table, and he could still hear them talking and laughing in the kitchen over the cacophony of the New York traffic coming from the television set.

  CHAPTER 6

  Saturday morning after breakfast Hoke mowed the lawn. The lawn mower was old, and the blades needed sharpening; but Hoke enjoyed the exercise. The activity, he felt, was good for him, but he wanted to finish before the sun got too hot. It had been eighty degrees at six-thirty, with humidity to match, when he went out to get the newspaper. The paper stated that the highs would probably be in the low nineties. T
he Henry J was gone, so Hutton, thankfully, was off somewhere. Hoke was pleased about that. He hadn't relished the thought that Hutton might sit out in his front yard and watch him work for two hours.

  At ten-thirty, when Hoke had finished the front lawn and was sweeping grass cuttings off the sidewalk, Ellita called him in to answer the telephone. It was Teodoro Gonzalez.

  "Hello, Teddy," Hoke said into the phone. "How'd you make out?"

  "They let me talk to four Cuban guys wearing orange jumpsuits out in the yard. What they told me doesn't mean much, but they got my Omega."

  "Your wristwatch?"

  "Yeah. One of the bastards took it, but when we shook 'em down later, nobody had it on him. I didn't miss it, you see, until I was leaving and picking up my pistol and cuffs at the main gate. We went right back, but by then whoever took the watch had a chance to ditch it. Security said they'd shake down the barracks this morning and let me know if it shows up. But I'll never see it again, and I paid a hundred and eighty-five bucks for that watch."

  "You should've checked it with your pistol at the gate."

  "Tell me about it."

  "What about the tattoos?"

  "They said they weren't prisoner tattoos. Those stars and circles were new to them, and they thought the little V's might be initials. The dead men could be cane cutters, they said, Jamaicans or Haitians, but whatever they are, they aren't Cubans."

  "What made them so certain?"

  "Because the tattoos don't mean anything. And only cane cutters would be dumb enough to make meaningless tattoos. I don't see how any of this'll help. There's no cane in Miami to cut, so when I told 'em how the men were killed, they said they were probably -droguistas-."

  "It's more than we had before."

  "I had my watch before, too."

  "You don't need a watch. You notice I don't wear one. If you need to know the time, there's always some asshole around to tell you."

  "Well, don't ask this asshole again because I no longer have a watch."

  "Maybe it'll turn up in the shakedown, Teddy."

  "I don't think so."

  "I don't either. Buy yourself a nineteen-dollar Timex."

  "I'll do that, Hoke." Gonzalez laughed. "Soon's I make my last two payments on my Omega. They all shook hands with me when I left, so one of those slick bastards must've slipped it off then. Far's I'm concerned, those Marielitos can rot out there in Krome."

  "Write up your notes, and put 'em in the file. We might as well bury it in old cases now and give up on it. If they're alien Haitians or Jamaicans, we'll never find out who they were. Unless we get some new leads, it can't be solved till we get some positive ID. But you did well, Teddy. See you Monday morning."

  Hoke showered and then took Ellita grocery shopping at the Green Lakes Supermarket. Aileen stayed home to give Pepe a sunbath and then a sponge bath. Sue Ellen had gone to work at the car wash. Saturday was the busiest day of her six-day week.

  While Ellita fixed Hoke a turkey sandwich for lunch, Hoke tried to phone Quevedo and Levine to arrange a committee meeting. Mrs. Quevedo said she didn't know where her son was or when he would be back. Myra Levine said her husband had gone to the races at Calder, and she had no idea when she could expect him home. Hoke thought both women were lying, but he couldn't do anything about it if they were. He'd have to set up a meeting later on next week, when he could corner the two elusive detectives at the station.

  Feeling restless, Hoke drove Aileen to the Cutler Ridge Mall, bought her a pair of Wrangler's jeans, and then they went to the early bird movie at Multitheater No. and watched -Friday the i3th: Jason Returns-. Aileen spent most of the movie with her face buried in Hoke's right armpit. Afterward she told him that this was the best version of the Jason story she had seen so far.

  "That's because Jason killed mostly cops this time, as well as yuppies," Hoke explained. "People hate cops and yuppies, and old Jason keeps up with the trends in each new movie."

  "You always told us that policemen are our friends."

  "We are, and most people know that, sweetheart. But everybody feels guilty about something or other, and cops in uniform remind them of their guilt."

  "Why do people hate yuppies? I don't hate yuppies."

  "Americans hate anyone who's more successful than they are."

  "I don't know a yuppie from anyone else. How can you tell one? I dress well, but I'm not a yuppie."

  "Ask who they voted for. If they like Ronnie and Nancy Reagan, they're yuppies. It's a simple but effective test."

  "But you voted for Reagan."

  "My vote doesn't count. I didn't vote for Reagan, I voted against Carter. Carter let all those Marielitos in and ruined Miami as a decent place to live. You were still living up in Vero Beach with your mom then, so you don't remember what a pleasant place Miami used to be before they let in all that scum."

  "Maria, my friend at school, is a Marielito, and she isn't scum. She's very nice--"

  "I'm not an absolutist, baby. Some of them are all right, I suppose. But crime's gone up twenty-five percent because of the Marielitos since they got here. I was talking to my partner, Teddy Gonzalez, this morning. I sent him out to Krome yesterday to talk to some Marielitos, and while he was talking to them, one of them stole his wristwatch."

  "Right off his wrist?"

  "Right off his wrist, and he never noticed it."

  "But he already knew that the Cubans at Krome were criminals. He should've checked his valuables at the gate before he talked to them."

  "That's right. When you grow up, I'd like to have you as my partner."

  "When I grow up, I'm gonna marry a rich yuppie, buy a penthouse condo on Grove Isle, and tool around town in a red Ferrari."

  Hoke sighed. "My daughter's a yuppie. Where did I go wrong?"

  Aileen giggled and took his arm. They went out to find his Pontiac in the parking lot.

  Hoke pulled into his driveway at five-thirty. Two latin gardeners were finishing their work on Hutton's yard across the street. They had cut the grass, trimmed the Barbados cherry hedges, and lopped off some of the lower limbs of the smelly melaleuca tree in the front yard. A formidable pile of cuttings was stacked on the grass verge at the curb. The yard looks nice, Hoke thought. If he gives the house a new paint job, at least it will improve the appearance of the neighborhood. But he wasn't going to suggest the idea; the less he had to do with Donald Hutton, the better.

  Ellita met them in the dining room. She had rolled up her long black hair in empty Minute Maid orange juice cans. Ellita had an abundance of hair, and she had used eight cans. Her face was flushed, and her nails, freshly varnished, were the color of arterial blood. Her fingers were spread wide, to allow her nails to dry.

  "Can you baby-sit tonight, Aileen?" Ellita held up her hands, palms outward, fingers spread.

  "I'm supposed to sit for the DeMarcoses tonight."

  "Can't you take Pepe along with you? I've already fed and changed him and prepared a bottle of water and another of orange juice. If he wakes later, you can give him one or the other or both."

  "You and Rosalinda going out?" Hoke asked.

  "Rosalinda got engaged a month ago, Hoke. I told you all about that." Ellita blushed and turned her head away. "I've got a date."

  "You've got a date?" Hoke asked.

  "I'll take care of Pepe," Aileen said. "But I'd better call Mrs. DeMarcos and ask her if it's all right to bring him."

  "I already called her. She doesn't mind. And Sue Ellen will be home later, if you run into any problems."

  "You've got a date?" Hoke asked again.

  "For dinner and a movie. But we're going to the movie first and then out to dinner. -Los Olvidados-, at the Trail. It's an old Bufluel movie he made in Mexico about slum children. And I've never seen it."

  "-Los Olvidados?-"

  "'The Lost Ones.' It's supposed to have a lot of surrealistic symbolism, but I've never seen it."

  "Who're you going with, if not Rosalinda?"

  "I have a date
. What do you care?"

  "I don't care. I think it's nice. It's just that you haven't had a date, since, hell, I don't know--"

  "In almost two years. And I don't want you to get all upset about it."

  "I'm not upset. I'm pleased. Why should I get upset?"

  "Good. You'll have to get your own dinner. But there's turkey in the fridge, and you can make sandwiches. There's still enough -Tres Leches- for dessert, and there's ice cream, too. Heath Bar Crunch, the kind you like. Can you help me, Aileen?"

  "Sure."

  They left for Ellita's bedroom (Ellita and Pepe shared the master bedroom), and Hoke got a can of Old Style out of the refrigerator. He didn't recall being told about Rosalinda, Ellita's best friend, getting engaged. If she had told him, he would have remembered. She hadn't told him; she only thought she had told him.

  Sue Ellen roared into the yard on her motorcycle. She stripped off her leathers in the living room. She wore denim cutoffs and a Green Lakes Car Wash T-shirt under her leathers. She tossed the garments and her helmet on the couch and sat on the bean bag next to Hoke's La-Z-Boy recliner. Sue Ellen's nose, prominent to begin with, looked larger because it was plastered with white Noskote.

  "I'm really tired, Daddy. Can I have a sip of your beer?"

  Hoke handed her the can. She took a sip and returned it. "It's good and cold, but I still don't like the taste of beer."

  "Sit there. I'll get you a Diet Coke."

  Hoke brought her a Diet Coke and sat in his La-Z-Boy again. "I think six days a week is too much for you, Sue Ellen, especially out in the sun all day. Why don't you work five days and rest on weekends?"

  "On Saturday I get double time. And I usually don't mind because we trade off jobs. But today I was drying all day and never got a job in the shade. Drying's easier than vacuuming, but when you vacuum, you can sometimes talk the driver into a pine spray, and you get ten percent off the spray job. But Arturo hogged the vacuum all day and wouldn't trade off with anyone."