by Mike Gomes
“Carlos said that they would say I was with them, but he kicked me out of the gang because I said I did not want to rob the festival tonight with him.”
“They are going to rob the festival tonight after this?” asked the boy’s mother in exasperation.
“Yes. He thinks this will make everyone afraid of us.”
“He is a fool.” said Falau pulling himself off the door. “Smart gangs lay low and do not want to be noticed. This guy is looking at crime like it is some music video. He has no idea what he is doing.”
“They are giving me an alibi.”
“But for how long? Cops need to pin this on someone. Cop killings do not turn into cold cases. Somebody needs to be in prison or dead. Then the police will back off. Someone will take the fall. I say you make it them and not you.”
“Now you want him to lie? After what he has done you want him to pin it on another person? I don’t like Carlos, but putting a murder on him is not right.” said Apollonia. “Joaquim needs to make amends for what he has done.”
“This isn’t AA. And unless you want your son raped in prison every night until he is killed you need to change your tune. There is no honor in taking the fall for a crime you were ordered to carry out. Carlos put him there and Carlos told him to stab someone. He is just as guilty.”
“But I did it. Not him. I have to own up to this.”
Chapter 21
The screen door slammed shut behind Falau as he walked out the door and took a seat on the cement step that acted like a stoop back at home. Reaching for his pack of cigarettes he only found one remaining, but he wished the pack were full. His life experience had shown him that nights that started out with craziness seldom settled down before daybreak.
Flicking hard down on the wheel of the lighter the flame popped up and was ready to do its job. The cigarette clamped firmly between his lips found the mark and he drew in the flame lighting the thick tobacco filled calming stick that he had come to use with increasing frequentness since he stopped drinking.
Pulling away the cigarette with his index finger and thumb the big man let out a long exhale shooting the smoke out in front of him. His eyes fixated on the boys at the center of the courtyard as they laughed and passed a bottle back and forth between them. Knowing their plans for the night the obligation to step in was growing but finding the proper approach was a different matter altogether. The boys were liquored up by the looks of things and they had mayhem on their minds. They would be quick to fight and a long reach to get them to listen to anything he had to say.
Watching the boys in the center of the courtyard he saw Carlos holding court over the other boys. He directed them with authority and a charisma of a natural leader. How he had convinced a well raised boy like Joaquim to abandon everything he had known was impressive despite it all being for the negative. If Carlos had put that same drive to something positive, he could have achieved greatness, but he was not giving himself that chance. Falau’s mind jumped back to his grandfather saying, “Youth is wasted on the young.” Never had that become more real to him than right at this moment watching Carlos and the other boys planning to squander their lives for a handful of quick cash and a little bit of half assed fame.
The big man attempted to train his eyes on the back belt of Carlos to see if the handgun was sitting in its usual spot. The entire island knew he now carried it all the time and he was not shy about brandishing it if needed. He liked the power of making people run and it brought him one step closer to being just like his rap idols. The loose fitting jacket he wore reached just below his waist line obscuring the view. That, combined with the distance, left positive confirmation out of the question unless something out of the ordinary were to happen.
Looking down to his watch he pressed the small button on the side causing a blue tinted light to go on inside the watch showing the time was 10:30pm. If the boys were going to do separate jobs and then gather for the big robbery of the festival, they would be making their move soon. Taking them down one by one was appealing. It would greatly stack the odds in the big man’s favor, but he had no idea where they were going. Making a grand gesture now was the way to keep them from ever leaving the courtyard to begin with.
Pushing himself up to his feet Falau took another drag off the cigarette and let the smoke out with a sigh. Taking the direct approach, he cut across the grass approaching the boys head on showing them he did not fear them and was not attacking them.
The laughing of the boys stopped as the big man got to within thirty feet of them and entered the ring of light that was cast off by the fire. José stopped his talking immediately seeing the figure emerge from the darkness. His eyes looked in disbelief as the big man got closer.
“Yo. It’s him.” said the young boy pointing a finger to Falau who now stood just 15 feet away. The other boys turned in an instant and positioned themselves for a fight.
Falau put his hands half way up in the air with the cigarette now being held in his hand.
“Hold on, guys. I am not here for a fight. I came to make the peace.”
“And why would we want to make peace with you?” questioned Candido getting a sharp look from Carlos.
“Because nobody should get hurt. I have no desire to hurt you and you boys should have no desire to hurt me. We should be able to work together.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” snapped Carlos. “Work? What are you saying work for?”
“We have a common goal. You guys and I. We want the same thing.”
“And what is that, American?” asked Carlos.
“For nobody to go to jail for the killing of Officer Silva.”
Everything fell silent and within seconds looks exchanged between the boys and Carlos brought his attention back to Falau. He studied the mad face as the light from the fire flickered casting change in his perceptions of the big man. The face was hard and unwavering. He showed no change in his breathing or temperament. He was as solid as a statue.
“Yes, I know about that. Joaquim came home with blood all over him. Not much he could say to disguise what happened. Seems that the boys in his gang would not even help him get cleaned up after killing a man. Some brotherhood that is.”
Carlos’s jaw tightened listening to the man knowing that what he said was true.
“Seems to me if a bunch of guys are going to say they are more important than family and will always be there to take care of each other, they shouldn’t be casting a brother behind at the first problem. I mean how could the other guys in the gang feel like they would be protected if the same thing happened?”
“Keep your mouth shut, American.” said Carlos through gritted teeth. “You will not get off this island alive so there is no problem with you telling anyone about what happened.”
Candido and José rose from their seats on the picnic table and came to stand side by side with Carlos. A hunting knife slid smooth and slow from its sheath on Candido’s side. The blade was fixed and was approximately 4 inches of stainless steel that glinted in the light.
“Have you boys ever killed a man?” asked Falau getting his response from the boys. “I have. It’s not something that is easy to get over. It will haunt you all the days of your life. Especially the first one. I still have dreams of death and so will you. Is this little gang of yours worth it?”
“You die now, American!” yelled Carlos running toward the big man while reaching to the back of his jeans. Falau read the move in an instant and charged himself cutting the distance and the time he had to draw the gun. The big man leaped to the air placing a hard kick to the boy’s exposed chest knocking him to his back and the gun slid next to the fire.
Lunging at the big man Candido led with his knife. He slashed to the right, his natural side, but had no concept of how to return the knife to its starting spot with lethalness. Falau stepped forward breaking all convention in Candido’s mind. He should have been running not moving forward in the attack.
Falau grabbed his wrist an
d grasped the small finger and sent it back causing the boy to buckle to his knees.
José stepped up to defend his friend only to be met with a back kick from the big man that landed in his stomach and knocked the wind out of him. The small boy heard the cracking of his friend’s finger as it broke, and the big man looked back over his shoulder at him.
“GO HOME BOY!” shouted Falau with all the power of Satan filling his voice. The boy shuttered and ran from the man that showed the boy just how young he was.
Yanking hard the little finger broke all the way at the knuckle and the knife dropped to the ground. Falau released his right hand and drew it back before landing a punishing hammer fist to the boy’s nose. Blood spurt on impact from the boy’s nose and his eyes filled with water. A steady and harsh groan filled the air as it came from Candido deep down inside. He reached up and held his face. His hands and face covered in blood within seconds.
The big man reached down and picked up the knife that had been held against him just moments before. Carlos laid on the ground having rolled to his stomach gasping for air. Falau moved in behind the boy and placed a knee firmly behind his shoulder blades pinning him to the ground. Grabbing a hand full of hair, he pulled his head back and had Carlos look directly at Candido.
Placing the knife under Carlos’s chin Falau dragged the point of the knife over the boy’s throat. “If I have to come back here again, I will kill you all. The gang is over now. No robbing the festival. No attacks on the people. You leave Joaquim and his mother alone. If you don’t, I will let the police know it was you who killed Officer Silva, or, I will just come back here and kill you all. Do you understand?”
“Yes” said Candido holding his face and still laying on his side.
“And your big leader. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” grunted Carlos with the tip of the knife starting to draw blood from his neck.
“Good boys. Now go live a good life. One you can be proud of.”
Falau pushed down on Carlos’s face pushing it into the dirt as he got up to his feet. He moved the knife and smiled as he tossed it into the fire. Taking a few slow methodical steps, he looked back at Carlos and Candido laying on their sides watching him.
“Guess you will not be needing this anymore.” said the big man kicking the gun into the center of the fire. Within seconds the pop of the six bullets firing on themselves filled their ears leaving the revolver in pieces and Falau walking to the exit of the courtyard.
Chapter 22
The quiet city of Funchal came alive with the blue lights of the police cars racing through the streets. The sides of the hotels taking on the color of the lights as they passed by letting go of their traditional look. The tourists and locals watched as police cars would rip by, sirens bouncing off the walls of the hotels and businesses. Most of the tourists had no idea that any of this was out of the ordinary. This was New Year’s Eve and a night that was set aside for people to drink and be merry. Often that merriness would lead to accidents and fights that the police had to clean up in cities across the world. Funchal would be no different to most taking the night in. As long as the police didn’t interrupt their fun then there was no reason to care what was happening. But for Funchal this was a starkly different first night. The city was known for its low crime and safe neighborhoods.
On this night the police raced between the hospital and the park where Officer Silva met his demise. The members of the local police force were thrown into action and as the news spread officers who were not scheduled to work showed up on the scene to help with the investigation for their fallen brother. Their cars blocked the roads and people were diverted from the park to keep the investigation scene as pure as possible. The body had already been moved and taken to the morgue with the notification of the next of kin. Officers wanting to pay their respects to their friend and brother would have to wait for the funeral services that would be bumped out for a few days as to not disturb the tourists leaving the island. All the police wanted revenge and retribution for their fallen comrade. The local police stations were hard at work keeping the event as quiet as possible. The news could be catastrophic for future tourism and the whole economy for the island.
At the top of the courtyard two police cruisers screeched to a halt and emptied six police officers out of them. The officers of the criminal investigations unit were heavily armed with their night sticks and Glock 22 holstered to their waists. Four of the officers kept their hands close to their weapons. That was the preferred weapon for the police officers in the United States and across the world.
A young and slim looking officer that looked like he was more of a military man than police held a Mossberg 500 tactical shotgun in front of him. The weapon was all black but the steel on it shined in the minimal light and it was fully loaded with eight shells containing buckshot that would cause a wide spread of pellets when fired. If the officers were to find trouble inside the courtyard it would be the first gun fired to create a distance with the offender and hopefully render them incapacitated to continue the fight. The Mossberg could result in death, but it was more likely to injure with some distance between the shooter and the recipient of the buck shot. The Glock 22 however was often a kill shot. Despite their training the police on the small island had few times they were called on to even draw their firearms in a live situation and now there had been the murder of a police officer.
Falling into lock step without intent the police officers walked in two by two with the shot gun posted in the front left. The police officers made no attempt to disguise these or to sneak up on the boys at the center of the courtyard.
The footsteps hitting the ground caused Candido and Carlos to turn their heads and see the small platoon of officers walking into the light. The shotgun jumped out at Carlos who instinctively reached for the revolver in the back of his pants only to find nothing there. He glanced to the side and saw the tattered remains of the handgun twisted and bent in the fire.
“Not a move boy!” snapped the police officer standing to the side of the man with the shotgun. The man wore a beret and hand embroidered marking indicating his position on the left chest pocket of his uniform.
Stopping abruptly the men behind him fanned out making a semi-circle around the boys. The tactic was simple and used throughout the world. The boys were trapped with only one way out. Each shooter in the semi-circle was given a clean shot at the offender without chance of hitting one of his own men. If need be, they could make the semi-circle tighter by walking in or spread themselves wider if needed.
Watching the men hit their spots Carlos wiped his neck with his right hand and inspected the blood that was now dried. Glancing to the side he could see Candido concerned more with his own pain than that of the police that had made their way up to them.
“Whatever you say officer.” said Carlos.
“I didn’t ask you to speak. You do not speak until I tell you to.”
Carlos nodded his head in agreement and cast a smile to Candido who had shortened his attention to the police as their anger grew.
“My name is Principal Chief Diaz. I oversee this unit with special investigations. We are investigating the death of Officer Silva who was murdered just a few hours ago.”
The boys at the table continued to look down and not react to the words of the commanding officer.
“It is my understanding that Officer Silva had several conversations with you over the last few weeks. Is that true?” questioned Diaz.
“No, officer. You must have us confused with some other guys.” responded Carlos slightly lifting his head to make minimal eye contact and then dropping it back down.
“He had pictures of you all. And names. Carlos is you.” said Diaz pointing with his nightstick at the boy. “And you’re Candido. Where are the other two? Joaquim and José?”
“They must be at home.” said Carlos.
Principal Chief Diaz walked closer to the boy sitting at the picnic table who was clearly not giving him t
he information that he wanted. Moving within two feet of the table he stopped and lifted his nightstick. THWACK!
The stick cracked down on the table causing it to splinter and flake chunks of wood from its rotting planks. Carlos pulled up his head with Candido looking to Diaz as he stared hard at the boy. “No, do not lie to me, boy. I have every mind to crack this stick across your head and leave you for dead. Officer Silva was under my command and now he is dead. According to him you and your little gang were the biggest risk to this island. What do you have to say to that?”
“I have nothing to say. I didn’t kill Officer Silva. He never gave us a hard time. He just talked with us and told us to not break the law or he would crack down on us.” said Carlos.
“But you did keep breaking the law. You or one of your boys shot that officer in the pharmacy. One foot to the side and that would have been a murder charge. But you shot a police officer and bragged about it.”
Carlos looked back at Candido and then to Diaz who raised one eyebrow.
“What? You didn’t think the people would come to us with news like that. The people of this island may not have fought you, but they were far from being afraid of you and your little play group. They don’t want scum on this island. They want to enjoy a good life and if that means sending you boys far away then that is what they will do. Did you know they were talking to us?” said the commanding officer as he slid his nightstick under the chin of Carlos and pushed his head up with it.
The boy snapped his head away and looked hard into the eyes of the officer. The distinctive sound of the of the shotgun sliding one into the chamber pushed the tension to a high level.
“Give me an excuse boy.” said Diaz. “Just one wrong move is all I will need to have justification to avenge my friend’s death. I know it was you and your boys who killed him. You probably knew he was close to nailing you for the shooting of the other officer at the pharmacy. So, you killed him leaving a wife and kids behind.”
