by J. D. Robb
“Record on. Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, and Peabody, Detective Delia, in interview with Inez, Joe, and Inez, Consuela. I’m going to read you your rights at this time.” Once she had, she sat at the table across from them. “Do you both understand your rights and obligations in this matter?”
“Yeah, I do, but Connie isn’t involved.”
“This is for her protection. Mr. Inez, have you come in to interview of your own volition?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“I’d like you to tell me, for the record, why you chose to come in and make a statement today.”
“I . . . I did a lot of things I’m not proud of, in the past. But I got a family. I’ve got three kids, three boys. If I don’t do what’s right, how am I supposed to tell them they have to do what’s right?”
“Okay. Do you want something to drink?”
“I—no.” Obviously flustered, he cleared his throat. “I’m good.”
“Mrs. Inez?”
“No, thank you. We just want to get this over with.”
“Tell me what happened, Joe. What happened back in the spring of 2043?”
“Ah, most of us, even if we didn’t go to the school, went to the dances. Maybe to dance, or pick fights, do some dealing, look for recruits.”
“Who are we?”
“Oh. The Soldados. Lino and Steve were co-captains then. Well, Lino mostly ran the gang. Steve was more muscle. Lino wanted more recruits, and he figured you got more recruits when you had trouble. When you had, like, a common enemy. He talked like that,” Joe added. “But I didn’t know, I swear to God, I didn’t know, until later.”
“Didn’t know what?”
“The bomb. I didn’t know. I’d been a member for about a year, year and a half, and Lino liked that I was good with my hands. That I could fix stuff. That I could boost cars.” He let out a breath. “He used to say I’d be somebody. He’d make me somebody. But I had to make my mark.”
“Your mark.”
“The kill mark. I couldn’t be upper level until I did a kill, until I’d made my mark.”
“You still wear the Soldado tattoo,” Eve pointed out. “It doesn’t include the kill mark, the X below the cross.”
“No, I never made my mark. I didn’t have it in me. I didn’t mind a fight, hell, I liked fighting. Get out there, get a little bloody. Blow off steam. But I didn’t want to kill anybody.”
“And still, you and Lino were friends,” Eve prompted.
“Yeah, or I thought we were. Lino used to razz me about it, but . . . just like guys razz each other about shit. I guess that’s why I didn’t know what he had going, what he set up.”
“He didn’t tell you about the bomb.”
“He never said anything to me. He said how he’d meet up with me there, at the dance. The bomb at the dance, when it went off, I was right there. Right there. Ronni Edwards got killed. She went up ten feet away from me. I knew her.”
He stopped, and rubbed his hands over his face. When he dropped them again, Connie took one in hers.
“I knew her,” Joe repeated. “Since we were in kindergarten I knew her, and she blew apart in front of me. I never . . .” He lowered his head, fought for composure. “Sorry.”
“Take your time,” Eve told him.
“It went—it went to hell in seconds. Music’s playing, kids are dancing or hanging. Then it went to hell. The noise, the fire. More kids got hurt, and then they’re running around, crazy scared, and more get hurt in the trample. Lino and Chávez and Penny, they’re hauling kids out like heroes, and saying how it was the Skulls, the motherfriggin’ Skulls.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “But they weren’t there, not when it went down.”
“Lino, Steve, and Penny weren’t there,” Eve qualified.
“Yeah. I mean no, no they weren’t there when the place exploded. I’d been looking for Lino. I had a couple guys who wanted in—wanted in the gang, so I was looking for Lino. Nobody’d seen him. Just minutes before it blew, nobody’d seen him or Penny or Steve. He never missed a dance. I figured, well, he was just late getting there. And probably lucky for him, I thought that after. Lucky for him because we figured he was the target. It was later when I realized he was the one making the noises about being the target.”
“Were you hurt in the first bombing?”
“Got some burns, cut up some from the stuff that was flying around. Not real bad. If I’d been standing where Ronni was . . . I thought about that. Thought about that and how Ronni had just blown. It got me up, got me thinking, yeah, those Skulls needed some killing. So I’m up, think I’m up to get my mark because of that, and I hear Lino and Penny talking.”
“Where were you when you heard them?”
“We had a place we used, like a headquarters. This basement in a building on Second Avenue, right off 101st. Big basement, the place was like a maze. Rattrap,” he said with a sour smile. “They fixed it up about ten years back. It’s apartments now. Nice apartments.”
“Just for my curiosity, do you know who owned it?”
“Sure.” He looked puzzled by the question. “José Ortega—the old guy—kind of a big deal in the neighborhood. José was one of us. Soldado—I mean the old guy’s grandson was one of us. But the fact was, Lino said it was our place.”
Ripples, Eve thought. “Okay. So you heard Lino and Penny talking when you went into the basement, into the headquarters.”
“Yeah, like I said, it was a big place, lots of rooms, and corridors. I was heading for the war room. I was up, and I wanted in on the retaliation. Hell, I wanted to lead the charge. But I passed one of the flop rooms, and I heard them talking about how it worked. How planting the boomer at the dance got the community—that’s how Lino put it—the community involved. How they’d hit the Skulls now, and everyone would cheer. The Soldados would be heroes because everybody thought the Skulls attacked, the Skulls brought blood to neutral territory. And Penny said they should’ve used a bigger bomb.”
He looked down at his hands, then lifted his gaze back to Eve’s. Tears glazed it. “She said that. Said how Lino should’ve built a bigger boomer so there’d be more dead instead of just that little bitch Ronni. How a bunch of bodies would’ve gotten people really juiced. And he laughed. He laughed and said, ‘Wait a few days.’ ”
He reached for his wife’s hand. “Can I get some water? I think I could use some water.”
Peabody rose, walked over to fill a paper cup. “Take your time, Mr. Inez,” she told him.
“I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe they’d do that. To our own. Chaz Polaro was in the hospital, and they didn’t know if he was going to make it. And they’re in there, laughing. They’re the ones who did it, and they’re laughing.
“It could’ve been me that night, dead or maybe dying. It could have been any of us, and he’d done it. They’d done it. I went in, so pissed off. They were on this old mattress we had down there, and she was mostly naked. I said, ‘What the fuck, Lino.’ I’m sorry, Connie, that’s what I said.”
Joe began to talk quickly now, pushing the words out, pushing the memories. “I said, ‘You fucking bastard, you set that boomer on us.’ He started telling me to chill, frost it up. How it was strategy, for the good of the gang, and all this bullshit. I told him to get fucked, and I walked out. He came after me. We had a lot of words—and Connie’s going to get steamed if I say them all. Upshot was he told me he was captain, and I’d follow orders, I’d keep my mouth shut or he’d set Chávez on me. He said we were going to hit the Skulls and hard, that he’d already made the boomer for the hit. If I didn’t want him to shove it down my throat and hit the remote, I’d keep my mouth shut. I guess he wasn’t sure I got the point because I got jumped a few hours later, got the shit kicked out of me.
“I kept my mouth shut. I kept it shut and the next day Lino and Chávez took off. I kept it shut when Penny hunted me up and told me to remember it might be Lino�
�s boomer, but her finger was on the trigger now, and if I didn’t follow orders they’d do to me what she and Lino had done to her old man.”
“Hold it there a second,” Eve told him. “Did Penny Soto tell you what she and Lino had done to her father?”
“Hell, they bragged on it all the time. How they’d diced up Nick Soto. How they made their mark together.”
“Okay. Keep going.”
“I guess there’s not much more. A couple days after Lino left, the bomb hit the diner. And I kept it shut. I didn’t say anything to anybody, and five people died.”
“You knew about the second bomb beforehand?”
“Yeah, I knew.” He crushed the water cup in his hand. “I didn’t know the when and where, but I knew they were going to do it. I knew people would die, because Penny wanted bodies, and Lino liked to get Penny what she wanted. I didn’t do anything about it. I went and got drunk, and stayed drunk for a long time.”
“When did you last see Lino Martinez?”
“The day we had it out. I kept waiting for him to come back, but he never did. Chávez neither. Penny ran the Soldados for a while after, but it all fell apart. I got busted for robbing a 24/7, did some time. She looked me up when I got out to remind me worse things could happen than a beating if I ever thought about running my mouth.”
“Okay, Joe, let’s go over some of the finer points again.”
Eve worked him through it, then punched details. When she thought she’d run him dry, she nodded. “I want to thank you for coming in today. You’ve been a big help.”
He stared up at her when she rose. “That’s all?”
“Unless you have something to add.”
“No, but . . . am I under arrest?”
“For what?”
“For, I don’t know, withholding evidence or . . . accessory or something.”
“No, Joe, you’re clear. You may be called on to testify in court as to the statements you’ve made today. If so, will you testify in court as to the facts?”
“We’ve got three kids. I have to show them how to do the right thing.”
“That’s all I need for now. Go home.”
Eve stepped out, wound her way to Observation and Reo.
“He’s clear,” Reo said, “but if you think we can make and win a case against Penny Soto on the word and the memory of a former gang member, ex-con—”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll get you more. I’ll get you plenty. The next on our lineup is Juanita Turner, the mother of one of the bodies Penny wanted, and the woman who poisoned Lino Martinez. She’s in A. I might as well tell you, I’ve got Mira coming to observe the interview, and believe she’ll conclude diminished capacity.”
“Today you’re a cop, lawyer, and shrink.” Sarcasm coated each word. “How do you do it?”
“You’re going to put her away, Reo, but if after the interview you want to put her away for first, I’ll send you on an all-expense paid vacation to Portafino.”
“I’ve always wanted to go there.”
Eve fueled up with a coffee, then turned to Peabody. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
“Take the lead.”
“What? What?” Peabody jogged after Eve. “Did you say I should take the lead?”
For an answer, Eve stepped into the interview room. She sat, said nothing.
“Ah, record on,” Peabody began and recited the salients. “Mrs. Turner, have you been read your rights?”
“Yes.”
“And do you understand those rights and obligations?”
“Yes, yes.”
“Mrs. Turner, are you a member of St. Cristóbal’s Catholic Church?”
“Yes.”
“And were you acquainted with Father Miguel Flores?”
“No.” Juanita lifted her head now, and her dark eyes smoldered. “Because Father Flores never came to St. Cristóbal’s. A liar and a murderer came with his face. He’s probably dead, this Father Flores. Probably murdered. What do you think about that? What are you doing about that?”
Peabody kept her voice clipped, cool—and whatever her thought might have been, they were boxed outside the room. “Do you know the identity of the man who posed as Father Flores?”
“Lino Martinez. A murderer.”
“How did you come to be aware of his identity?”
“I figured it out.” She shrugged, looked away.
First lie, Eve thought.
“How?” Eve demanded. “Just how did you figure it out?”
“Things he said, how he acted, certain looks. What does it matter?”
“You worked with him at the youth center for over five years,” Eve added. “Went to the church. How long had you known who he really was?”
“I knew what I knew.” She folded her arms, stared hard at the wall. But the gestures of defiance lost impact with the quick, light shudders that worked through her. “It doesn’t matter how long.”
“Mrs. Turner, isn’t it true you were told his identity?” Peabody drew Juanita’s attention back to her. “You didn’t figure it out. You were told.” Peabody’s voice softened, into that confide-in-me tone Eve considered one of her partner’s finest tools. “Has Penny Soto threatened you, Mrs. Turner?”
“Why would she?”
“To ensure your silence. To make sure you take the fall for Lino Martinez’s murder alone. You did kill Lino Martinez, didn’t you?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
“Bullshit.” Eve stood so abruptly, her chair flew back. “You want to play, Juanita, let’s play. Penny Soto told you Martinez was conning you, conning everyone. Lino Martinez, the man responsible for your son’s death, was right under your nose, playing priest. You could see it then, you could see right through him then, once she told you. Once she told you all about how he’d planted that bomb that ripped your son to pieces.”
Eve slammed her hands on the table, leaned down close. The gesture and the words had Juanita jolting, had tears sheening over the defiance in her eyes.
“And she helped you plan it, every step of your vengeance. She walked you right through it, didn’t she?”
“Where were you?” Juanita demanded. “Where were you when he killed my baby? When my husband grieved so he took his life. Took his own life and will never see God, never see God or our boy again. This is what that bastard did. Where were you?”
“You had to exact payment.” Eve rapped a fist on the table. “You had to make him pay for Quinto. The police didn’t so you had to.”
“He was my only child, our only child. I told him, I taught him never to look at skin—the color of skin is nothing. We’re all God’s children. He was a good boy. I told him, he had to work, that all of us must earn our way. So he took the work there, there where they killed him. Because I told him to.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks, streaming out of misery. “Do you think it matters what you say, what you do? I sent my boy to the place where they killed him. Do you think it matters if you take my life from me now, if you put me away for the rest of it? I can’t see God, just like my husband. There’s no salvation without redemption. I can’t ask for true forgiveness. I killed the one who killed my son. And I don’t repent. I hope he’s burning in hell.”
“Mrs. Turner. Mrs. Turner.” Peabody’s voice soothed, calmed. “You were Quinto’s mother. He was only sixteen. It must have been devastating, the loss. It must’ve been devastating all over again when Penny told you that the man you believed to be Father Flores was Lino Martinez.”
“I didn’t believe her. At first I didn’t believe her.” When Juanita lowered her head into her hands, Eve gave Peabody a small nod of approval. “Why would she tell me this? She’d been his whore once. How could I believe it, believe her? I worked with him, took Communion from him, confessed to him. But . . .”
“She convinced you,” Peabody prompted.
“Little things. The way he walked, the swagger of it. The basketball, so much pride. He had so much prid
e in his skill with a ball and a net. His eyes. If you really looked, if you really looked he was there. Inside the priest’s eyes.”
“Still she could’ve been lying,” Eve insisted. “You killed a man on her word? The word of Lino Martinez’s whore?”
“No. No. She had a recording, she’d recorded him, talking to her. Talking about how he was fooling everyone. How he could play the priest and be the sinner. She asked him to say his real name, and he laughed. Lino Martinez, he said. And even his mother didn’t know it. But how everyone would know him again, respect him, envy him. In just a little more time.”
“She made the recording for you.”
“She said she made it because I’d need proof. That she was ashamed of what he’d made her do. What he made her do still. She had loved him as a girl, and she’d fallen back when he’d come to her. But then he told her what he’d done. The bomb, and she couldn’t live with that.”
She wiped at her eyes. “Who could live with that? Only evil can live with that. She couldn’t. She’d found God, found strength, and came to me.”
“And helped you,” Peabody said, very gently. “She understood how shattered you were, and offered to help.”
“He wouldn’t pay for Quinto. He would never pay, unless I made him pay. Unless I stopped him. I could get the poison. I could get in the church, the rectory, the tabernacle. Still, I waited. I waited, because to take a life, even in justice, is a terrible thing. Then she showed me another recording, where he’d talked of the bombing, bragged about it. How he’d pretended to leave days before, but how he’d watched the store blow up. Blow up, with my boy inside. How he’d watched that, and then drove away. His work done.”
The memory straightened her spine. Defiance cut through again as she stared at Eve. “Would God want him to go unpunished?”
“Take us through it, Juanita,” Eve said. “How did you do it.”
“Old Mr. Ortiz died. He was such a good man, so well loved. I took it as a sign. I knew the church would be full, and this murderer on the altar. I went to the rectory before Rosa got there, when Father López and that one were at morning Mass. I got the keys for the tabernacle. I waited until Father López left from morning Mass, and I went in, put the poison in the wine.”
