by Kahn, Denise
"Anything?" he asked.
"The bastard was careful. He wiped everything off.”
Martinez was determined to nail him but all he had to go on was a dead prostitute who could not talk and Isabel Gonzalez who could, but wouldn’t.
Isabel had just returned home from an eight-hour shift of grilling hamburgers when she opened the front door of her apartment to Detective Martinez. "What do you want?" she asked through the screen door.
"I would like to know if you would join me for dinner this evening.” He held out a bouquet of flowers. “You pick the restaurant."
How nice that sounded. The detective was obviously a gentleman and not the usual man who wanted her for only one thing. But still, he was a cop and he was after her for something else. "I'm sorry but I can't."
"Isabel, please,” he said in Spanish. “You wouldn't let a poor man starve or eat all alone, would you?"
"Please, you must understand, I cannot get involved."
"This has nothing to do with the case. I’d just like to take a nice girl out to dinner, especially a nice beautiful girl. Please say yes. Oh, and here’s some chocolates."
“Well, I—but I have to change.” She opened the door and took the flowers and the box of chocolates from him.
“I can wait outside,” he said.
Isabel was ready in fifteen minutes. She wore a pretty cotton dress. She had her black hair pulled back with a flower in it and some eye shadow enhanced her dark eyes. Her cheeks were naturally colored and rouge covered her lips.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked.
“It doesn’t really matter,” she said shyly.
“Okay, I’ll choose.”
They went to an outdoor restaurant in Miami Beach. They ordered the house special and ate to the sounds of merengue. They talked about themselves, about their backgrounds, their hobbies, and his profession as a detective. This last was an opportunity and he took it. He showed Isabel a picture of a man wanted by the police. It was a long shot. “That’s him, isn’t it?”
Isabel nodded ever so slightly.
“Would you be willing to testify?”
“Is this why you brought me here?” She asked heatedly.
“I won’t lie to you. Yes, I need to find out. But I want you to believe me when I tell you that I wanted even more to go out to dinner with you.”
She looked at him, not sure what to say or do.
“I’m scared, Ernesto. If I do, maybe something will happen to my family or me. I cannot risk that. You must understand, and I would not be able to go back to work at the hotel.”
‘You shouldn’t be working there anyway. That’s no place for a lady.”
“Fine!” She snapped. “Then you find me a job for a lady. It’s not easy, you know.”
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. If I find a job for you, will you testify?”
“I guess so. Well, maye.”
“Good. Now, what would you like to do? Go dancing maybe?”
“But Ernesto, I have to go to work.”
“No, that’s out of the question, it could be dangerous.”
“I need the money.”
“Tonight you will have a well deserved good time, and tomorrow we will look for a new job.”
“It sounds too good to be true. Are you really sure about all this?”
He was very sure.
Isabel and Ernesto spent the rest of the evening dancing—to reggae, salsa and jazz. They both loved to dance, something neither of them had done in a long time. They made an impressive couple on the dance floor. For such a big man, Ernesto was light and graceful. He complemented Isabel’s movements perfectly.
It was a magical evening. When Ernesto dropped Isabel off at her house, they made a date to meet the next afternoon to look for a job for a lady.
Isabel met Ernesto as promised at his office. As soon as he saw her, he got up from his desk and kissed her on the cheek.
“You look very nice today, Isabel. I see you are ready for an interview.”
“I’m nervous.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like interviews and I’m afraid I won’t get the job. My qualifications are limited.”
“Would you be less nervous if I conducted the interview?”
“Yes of course, but—but—is that possible? How could you?”
“Sometimes policemen get special privileges.”
“Stop, Ernesto, you’re making me even more nervous. But have you found anything yet?”
“I think so, but first we must do a preliminary interview.”
“But why?”
“Don’t you trust me?”
“Well yes, but...”
“Now, tell me,” he interrupted, picking up an application and a pen. “Name?”
“Ernesto, you know my name.”
“Isabel, please, just answer.”
She sighed. “Isabel Gonzalez.”
“Birthplace?”
“La Havana, Cuba.”
“Any convictions?”
“No, of course not. But my father was a political prisoner in Cuba.”
“Not important. Most of our families were or at least one of our relatives were.”
They continued the questions and answers until the application was filled out.
“I think you have a very good chance,” he said. “Wait here and don’t move.”
Ernesto returned with another policeman, who was a little older. “This is Lieutenant Ray Peterson.”
“Miss Gonzalez?”
“Yes.”
“Welcome to our family,” he said extending his hand.
“Excuse me?”
“You are our new receptionist. We need someone bilingual. Your qualifications are precisely what we’re looking for. Of course Sergeant Martinez has vouched for you.”
“Thank you very much, Lieutenant.”
Petersen winked at his Sergeant and left.
“Ernesto, you knew all the time, didn’t you? You-you diablo.”
He laughed. “Come, let me show you what you’ll be doing. Mainly answering the phones.” He introduced her to the rest of the staff and told her how much she would be earning. It was more than she made from both of her jobs combined.
“I don’t know what to say. Ernesto, how can I ever thank you?”
“Well, I can think of a way. You could have dinner with me tonight.”
“My choice?”
“Of course. Your choice.”
“I suggest eating at my house. Would that be alright?”
“Home cooked? Wonderful!”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you again very much, Ernesto.”
When she left the precinct he still had a smile on his face. He could not get her out of his mind. Or the man she identified as the one with the prostitute at the Flamingo Hotel the night of the murder.
For days, Detective Martinez studied the Grady file, his habits, his quirks, his hobbies, his temper, his hangouts, and his crimes. All he needed was to find him. He had a key witness. Isabel had agreed to testify.
It did not take long to find Grady. Martinez arrested him at the dog track, read him his rights and took him to the precinct. He was allowed one phone call. He called Gina Thornton.
“This is Simon,” he said. “I’m calling for my payback. You owe me.”
Gina Thornton provided Simon with the alibi he needed. She told the police that he had been with her the night of the murder.
Martinez was furious. He had no case. He knew Gina was lying, and perhaps for a good reason, probably to protect her ass from that son-of-a-bitch Grady. But that scum was guilty of murder-one and unless he could get Gina Thornton to change her mind, Grady could walk off a free man. Again. Simon Keith Grady had many convictions but nothing ever stuck. He kept getting off for lack of evidence.
“Do you know that lying under oath is perjury?” Martinez asked her. “You could be arrested, you could go to jail.”
“I’m not lying,” she said. “
Can I go now?”
The woman was obviously afraid of Grady. Martinez gave her his card. “Should you need to contact me.”
Gina posted Grady’s bail which she had borrowed from a loan shark, according to Grady’s directions. They left the police headquarters together. Martinez watched them through the window. He swore he would put Grady behind bars if it was the last thing he did.
Isabel could not understand this American form of justice. “But I testified that I saw him. How can he just walk out of here? That’s not justice!”
“No, Isabel, it’s not justice,” Martinez said. “It’s the law. It’s just the law and the law is not necessarily justice. Laws are made by men, imperfect men.”
Now Isabel feared for herself and her family. Martinez assured her that he would have Grady behind bars soon. “We are having him followed. The first wrong move he makes will be his last.”
Gina could not forget the picture of Simon dragging her brother to safety. They owed him. And she knew that one day he would ask her to repay him. The day had come. She remembered how Simon had saved her brother’s life. It was at the track and they were both drivers in the third race. Simon Grady was out front, but not by much. There were three cars only inches behind him, coming around the last curve. As Johnny pulled ahead of the pack, another car clipped Johnny’s rear fender. It was just enough to throw him off course and into the cement wall. The engine exploded on impact.
Simon crossed the finish line in first place. When he looked back, he didn’t see Johnny Thornton get out of the car, and he knew the car would soon be engulfed in flames. Simon raced back. He pulled Johnny out of the flaming car. Seconds later the flames reached the front seat. Johnny might have been burned alive.
Johnny was grateful to Grady, but he couldn’t help wondering why Grady had risked his life to save his. They were in the same racing circuit, but Johnny had never entirely trusted Grady. His temper could be violent, and he could suddenly become very moody. But now he owed him one. Simon had said so. “You’ll pay me back one day.” Gina prayed that her brother would get out of racing for good, get an education, and stay away from men like Simon.
The accident had been enough to convince Johnny to quit racing. His sister was right. He needed a respectable profession. Gina was the one who had provided for him all his life. It was time to repay her. Johnny matriculated at the University of Miami. He was in the engineering college. The day he told Gina was the happiest day of her life.
“We’re even now, Simon,” Gina said angrily. “I don’t owe you any more and Johnny doesn’t owe you. Don’t ever come to my house again.”
Simon grabbed her arm. “Be careful, Gina, be very careful.”
“Let me go!”
He twisted her arm around her back.
She cried out in pain. “You don’t have to worry. Now, let me go. Please.”
“I’m glad we understand each other,” he said, slowly releasing his grip.
Bastard, she thought. When he was out of sight, she considered returning to the police station and confessing her lie. She just wanted him out of their lives for good.
♫
CHAPTER 20
Ernesto Martinez and Isabel Gonzalez married that summer. Isabel’s mother liked the detective almost immediately, and although she understood that his job was dangerous and demanding, she knew he was perfect for Isabel. They had her blessing.
They spent a week honeymooning in the Bahamas. Although they saw each other every day at the office and almost every night, they did not make love until their wedding night. They were raised as Catholics and didn’t mind being called old fashioned.
Isabel moved into Ernesto’s condominium, and they happily resumed their days at the police precinct but with a difference. Now they were man and wife. Every night was like a honeymoon, every night they tenderly explored each other’s bodies and uncovered more of the secrets of making love.
It was four a.m. when the phone rang and Ernesto Martinez grumbled into the receiver.
“This is Peterson,” his superior said. “I think your buddy has been at it again. Meet me on Biscayne at the Palms Hotel.”
Martinez quickly dressed and kissed his sleeping wife.
The blue lights of police cars illuminated the front of The Palms Hotel on Biscayne Boulevard. Lieutenant Ray Peterson leaned against his car. “Same M.O., slit throat. Dried semen on the face and neck, prostitute, can’t be more than sixteen years old.” He led Martinez into the hotel room. The dead prostitute lay in a pool of blood, her eyes still open.
Martinez looked away. Animals like Grady didn’t deserve to be on this earth. In this free country, it so happened that criminals could have more rights than innocent people.
Peterson seemed to read his mind. “Don’t let it get to you, Ernie. You can’t do that. It’ll eat you up.”
He knew Peterson was right. The room was suffocating. He had to leave it.
Martinez spent the next forty-eight hours in his office. Isabel, who knew what had happened, didn’t bother him. She brought him his meals and hot coffee and stayed with him at the office even though he had begged her to go home. At the end of the third day of this, Peterson walked in.
“Ernie, go home,” he said. “That’s an order, and you too Isabel. Go have a nice meal somewhere. Go home and watch TV. Just get the hell out of here.”
They got take-out Chinese food and then they climbed into bed. They spent hours like this, making love and talking.
“Ernesto,” Isabel said, seeing the preoccupation on his face, “are you alright?”
He was gazing at the ceiling. “Yes, it’s just that this case has gotten to me. I need more information, some good news for a change.”
“Maybe I have some,” she said cuddling up to him.
“Some what?”
“Some good news, Daddy.”
“Daddy? Did you say Daddy? No! Really? Isabel, are you telling me that you’re...” He put his hand on her stomach.
“Yes. You will soon be a father, my love.”
Ernesto let out a cry of joy and went to the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” Isabel called after him.
He returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “This calls for a celebration!” He poured the sparkling wine. “May the child be healthy, strong like his father and beautiful and kind like his mother,” he said, kissing his wife softly on the lips. They sipped champagne and then Ernesto made a phone call.
“Who are you calling? It’s after midnight!”
“Hello? Lieutenant?”
“Yes, what is it?” Petersen grumbled. “Didn’t I tell you to get some sleep?”
“Yes, you did, but I have to tell you something. I’m pregnant! I’m going to be a daddy.”
“That’s great, Ernie. Do me favor, don’t come in tomorrow. You and Isabel stay home, and that’s an order. And get some sleep! Daddy!” Lieutenant Peterson fell asleep with a smile on his face.
♫
CHAPTER 21
In his first year as an electrical engineering major at Miami U, Johnny Thornton became a new person. His studies and his new friends had changed his life, but the expenses of a college education overwhelmed him. His sister worried about the money as well, and while she worked overtime and saved everything she could, it was still not enough. Johnny suggested they take in a boarder, a Brazilian he met at school who was looking for a place to live. The big advantage was the house was near the college. The Brazilian, his name was Zeferino, would rent out Johnny’s large bedroom, which had its own bathroom. As an added incentive, Johnny agreed to do Zeferino’s laundry. Johnny would sleep in his sister’s bedroom with her. Gina was most agreeable to this, and she found a used table and a lamp that she put in her room for Johnny. She was a little anxious the day Johnny brought their new boarder.
Zeferino da Cunha was pursuing his master’s degree in architecture, following the family tradition. Before this, he had studied at the University of Sao Paulo. He wanted to make
his father proud of him. He had always regarded his father as a man of strength and great knowledge, a man who had cunning business perception. His father had been the main constructor for the new city of Brasilia, which became the nation’s capital, and Zeferino intended to continue the tradition, but with greater emphasis on the architectural aspect of the business. The da Cunhas were one of the leading Brazilian families, very rich and very powerful, with interests all over the world, ranging from construction companies to factories that built equipment for their trade. Following in his father’s footsteps would be an enormous task, Zeferino knew, but that was his goal and he intended to achieve it.
The da Cunha fortune was easily worth billions of dollars. Zeferino could have stayed at any luxurious Miami hotel or condominium. When he met Johnny, he liked him immediately and he wanted to help him out of his financial difficulty. So when Johnny shared his idea about taking on a boarder, Zeferino said he would take him up on it. “You’ll love my sister,” Johnny said. “She’s so cool.”
Zeferino thought so too. He considered this a real bonus. He brought Gina a bouquet of yellow roses. “I thank you for allowing me to stay in your nice home.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Gina said, staring at the dark handsome Brazilian. His eyes were blue, a kind of crystallized blue, like the blue off the Florida Keys, and he was charming.
“We want you to feel very comfortable here,” Gina said. “If there is anything you need, please ask us.”
They ordered out for pizza that night, the three of them.
“This is the national food of the United States,” Zeferino said, holding up a piece of pepperoni pizza.
“Really?” Gina said. “I always thought pizza was Italian.”
“It is!” Johnny said.
“Ah, what you don’t know about your own country!” Zeferino teased. “I would like to visit some American places I have heard about here in Florida, like Disney World and Universal Studios. You have been of course?”
“Yes, you should go,” Gina agreed.
“But we need a car,” Johnny pointed out.
