Cliff Diver (Detective Emilia Cruz Book 1) (29 page)

Chapter 29

“This is beyond my
experience, Emilia,” Padre Ricardo said.

Emilia shook her
head. “That’s not the worst of it, Father.” She wasn’t crying but she felt the
tears roll down her cheeks nonetheless. “He would come into the bathroom at
work when I was there and he’d see me with my own roll of toilet paper. The one
I kept in my desk because there wasn’t ever any in the bathroom. And . . . and
. . . when he raped this woman and his own child he made them hold toilet
paper, too.”

Padre Ricardo
covered her hands with his. “This was not your fault, Emilia.”

Her own guilt rose
up. “If I’d never become a detective, Father,” Emilia said chokingly. “If I
hadn’t been so stubborn about using the detectives’ bathroom.”

“We deal with
things as they are, Emilia,” Padre Ricardo said. “Not as we would have them be.
This man’s soul was corrupt.”

“I can’t understand
this.” Emilia’s throat felt scraped dry. “He raped his own daughter. When he
had a wife and hookers. Lots of women. He didn’t need to do this.”

“This was your
murder investigation, wasn’t it?”

“We actually
thought he’d been killed by one of his drug smuggling partners,” Emilia said.
She was in her dark uniform, her police hat with the shiny visor and gold trim
on the priest’s kitchen table. “Because he’d tricked them out of money used to
ransom a child. He substituted counterfeit money and did something with the
real money. Probably paid his gambling debts with it.”

“He was involved
in all that?” Padre Ricardo got them both a glass of juice from the small
fridge in the rectory kitchen.

“We just didn’t
have a way to prove it.” Emilia accepted the glass of juice with a shaky hand.
Silvio hadn’t understood at first when she’d called him from the Costa
Esmeralda building yesterday but then he’d come to the apartment, collected the
children and deposited them with a shocked Rita Inocente who’d immediately called
her husband at his office.

“What will you do
now that you know the truth?”

“I don’t know,
Father.” The juice was fresh and cold and helped clear her head. Besides
herself and now the priest, only Silvio, Bruno, and Rita knew the truth. But
Chief Salazar was expecting her report later today. “What good does it do to
ruin this boy, Father? He’s 16, a golden child who wants to be a professional
baseball player. A man before his time who was trying to protect his sister.”

“What choices do
you have?”

Emilia listed the
options that had been running through her head as she’d gotten ready for the
funeral.
What would Rico do?
had drummed in the background the whole
time. Which lie would he have told?

Padre Ricardo
pressed his lips together in distress.

“The mayor had
hinted that she’d give me a job,” Emilia said. She fingered her uniform hat,
knowing she had to leave soon for the funeral. “Huge salary. Car and driver. If
I made the city look good. Had an appointment with her people and everything.
But they’re all so . . . so  . . .” The right words wouldn’t come to mind.
Corrupt? Grasping self-serving snakes?
“I said I wasn’t interested.
Besides, if I leave the police, who else will keep looking for
las perdidas
?”

“You have a strong
heart, Emilia.” Padre Ricardo knew of the list and occasionally directed family
members of the lost her way.

“I don’t know,
Padre,” Emilia said miserably.

Padre Ricardo
stood up. “Let us pray for strength, Emilia. And someday we’ll pray for the
repose of this man’s soul.”

“But not today,”
Emilia said.

Chapter 30

Emilia stepped to
the witness box, warm in her stiff gray suit. The courtroom was in the city’s
new judicial building. The walls were paneled in pale wood and there was a huge
Mexican flag painted across one wall. The judge’s desk was a massive carved
affair.

She’d been to a
few inquests before. They were generally small, private affairs. The inquest
for Lieutenant Fausto Inocente wasn’t small. 

Maria Teresa was
there, with her parents and two attorneys, studiously ignoring Bruno and Rita
Inocente. Emilia knew that Juliana and Juan Diego, as well as CeCe, were still
with them in the house high above Las Brisas.

Chief Salazar and
Obregon were in the courtroom as well. In the past week both of their offices
had made statements about the discovery of the smuggling route under the
Maxitunnel that praised the heroic efforts of the police and mourned the deaths
of officers Villahermosa, Fuentes, and Portillo. Knowing the official line
didn’t keep Emilia from being speechless with anger when she’d read the words
in the newspaper. As she promised to tell the truth she thought of using her
testimony as a pulpit to shout out the guilt of the dead men.

But she wouldn’t;
she’d do it just like they’d rehearsed. Antonio Prade would testify after
Emilia. Substantive experts would be last.

Silvio was there
but he was not scheduled to testify. His bruises had healed fast and he was his
usual scowling self again, although for once he was wearing a suit and tie.

The court
investigator was an attorney named Enrico Calves with a reputation for
toughness and national-level political ambitions. He crossed the space between
his desk and the witness box like a bull charging into the arena.

“Detective Cruz, I
understand you were in charge of the investigation into the death of Lt. Fausto
Inocente. Is this correct?”

“That is correct.”

“Can you give me
the details of how you found the victim?”

“The victim was
found in his own speedboat, off the beach owned by the Palacio Réal hotel on
Punta Diamante. The boat was out of gas. Water Patrol towed the boat to the
hotel marina.”

“At which time you
and your partner Detective Portillo discovered the body.”

“The water patrol
officers had already informed us via radio that there was a body on board.”

“Thank you for
that clarification. Please tell us the conditions of the body as you saw them.”

“Fausto Inocente
was face down in the cabin of his boat,” Emilia said, keeping any emotion out
of her voice. “With a plastic bag over his head that was knotted tightly around
his neck. The back of his head inside the plastic bag had suffered a . . .
fracture. Blood from the head wound had soaked the shirt.” She purposely
avoided saying the word
victim
.

Calves asked her a
few more questions about the location and state of the boat and Emilia answered
them briefly, not saying more than necessary.

“Now your
investigation results,” Calves said presently. “Your investigation was very
intense for approximately four weeks. Is that correct?”

“Approximately.”

“And please share
with us, Detective, your findings as to the cause of death of Lt. Fausto
Inocente.”

Emilia took a deep
breath. “Our investigation concluded that this was a self-inflicted accident.
The Acapulco police intend to take no further action in regard to this
investigation.”

She saw Obregon
give a start. Antonio Prade looked down and crossed his legs. Emilia caught
Silvio’s eye. His expression didn’t change but she knew he was telling her to
go on.

“The cause of death
was blunt trauma.” Her voice was completely even and without strain.

Calves gestured to
her. “Please detail your reasons for that conclusion, Detective.”

“Given the
position of the body, the blood alcohol level, and the traces of semen found on
his clothing, it would appear that Lt. Inocente used the plastic bag to
restrict his wind while masturbating. A lack of oxygen is reported to enhance
male pleasure.” Emilia’s heart pounded but the whole thing came out naturally,
not as if she’d said it fifty times in front of her bedroom mirror. She went
on. “We concluded that he was unable to control the boat while performing a
sexual act. He fell and hit his head on a large metal flashlight which was
found on the deck of the boat next to the body.”

“I see.” Calves
folded his arms. “This would appear to be a simple deduction, Detective. Why
did it take four weeks to arrive at this conclusion?”

“Given Lieutenant
Inocente’s position in the police department,” Emilia said. “We wanted to rule
out all other possibilities and make sure his death was not related to any
cases. We ran down all the fingerprints found on the boat, all marina activity
that night, questioned all the residents of his apartment building and those
with access to the beach near the hotel where he was found. We also looked into
his personal activities. Hobbies and associates.”

“This sounds like
a thorough investigation,” Calvo said.

“It was.” Emilia
pressed her hands together in an effort to hide her sweaty palms.

Calves nodded.
“Thank you, Detective. You are to be commended and please accept my condolences
on the recent deaths your department has suffered.”

“Thank you,”
Emilia said.

“No other
questions, Detective Cruz. You may step down.”

Emilia moved out
of the witness box to the seat assigned to her.

Antonio Prade
talked at length about blood alcohol levels while operating a powerboat and
masturbation techniques practiced by risk takers, until Calves thanked him and
allowed him to sit back down. A local meteorologist testified about rough seas on
the night in question. The speedboat company representative was sworn in next.

The judge looked
bored.

Calves looked as
if this wasn’t worth his time. He dismissed the company representative and
looked at a red-faced Maria Teresa. “Señora, our condolences to you and your
family for the loss of your husband, a loyal official of our city government.”
He addressed the judge. “No further comments.”

The judge
pronounced for misadventure, banged his gavel and it was over.

☼

Loyola, the former
teacher, had the best English, so he made the call. All of the detectives were
impatient to hear what he found out. Phone pressed to his ear, he scribbled
furiously, then asked another question. Emilia tried to make out what he’d
written but it was upside down and his handwriting looked like fireworks.

At long last
Loyola punched closed the connection on Villahermosa’s cell phone and rubbed
his ear. He looked around at the detectives clustered around his desk. “Those
cops in Arizona are all right,’ he said grudgingly. “Guess what Señor Hudson
does?”

“Say it before I
kill you,” Silvio growled impatiently. He’d lost the tie and suit coat he’d
worn at the inquest.

“Owns a company
that provides equipment to casinos,” Loyola said in triumph. “They’re sending a
fax tomorrow with everything they’ve got on him but it includes at least two
prior arrests for fraud. They were all over the counterfeit shit and the link
to Morelos de Gama. We can ask for extradition.”

“They were
laundering through El Pharaoh,” Emilia guessed.

“With Inocente’s
gambling helping it along,” Silvio said. “Maybe that’s how they met.”

“Closing down El
Pharaoh and the Maxitunnel drug ring in the same week,” Macias said. “A good
week for the Acapulco cops, eh?”

Something from
the wreckage
, Emilia thought. She unlocked her desk drawer, hauled out the
list of counterfeit serial numbers, and gave it to Macias.

Somebody made a
pot of coffee and the conversation in the squadroom swirled with ideas for El
Pharaoh. Emilia went into the office with her shoulder bag. She took out the
key she’d found in Lt. Inocente’s cabinet. It fit perfectly into the keyhole of
the last locked desk drawer.

The drawer
revealed a roll of white toilet paper and two thick bundles of peso bills, each
in a plastic zip-lock bag. Emilia laid the bags on top of the desk.

Each bag held
thousands of pesos, much more than a police detective made in six months. It
looked real, too. Emilia walked shakily to the office doorway and asked Silvio
to come in.

His eyes bulged as
his eyes fell on the cash. Emilia closed the door behind him.

“Where’d this come
from?” Silvio asked.

“His desk drawer.
I found the key in his study, along . . . along with the other things.” Emilia
held out one of the bags. “It’s not enough to be the real ransom but there’s no
way I’m giving it to Morelos de Gama or Maria Teresa. Give it to your wife. She
can feed the neighborhood kids for a year.”

Silvio took out
the pesos, looked at them intently then shook his head. “It’s real. Give it to
the maid. Tell her to get a doctor to fix her face.”

Emilia showed him
the other bag. “This one’s for her.”

Silvio hesitated
then nodded. “You know, nothing’s changed between us, Cruz.”

“I know,” Emilia
said. She put the other bag of pesos into her bag to bring to CeCe.

Silvio pocketed
his share. “Maybe you can eat with the kids some night.” He looked around the
room, at everything except Emilia. “Isabel would like to meet you. For real
this time.”

“I’d like that.”
Emilia grinned. This was as close as they’d ever get to thanking each other.

Silvio seemed on
the brink of saying something more when the office door crashed open, slamming
against the opposite wall. Obregon walked in, his perfectly tailored black suit
hardly seeming to crease as he moved. He stared at Silvio. Emilia crossed her arms
as her heart thudded an all-too familiar warning.

“Detectives.”
Obregon acknowledged both of them.

Silvio nodded.

“I need to talk to
Cruz,” Obregon said.

Silvio sat in one
of the chairs in front of
el teniente’s
desk.

“Sure,” Emilia
said, still standing.

Obregon’s mouth
twisted in a cold half-smile. He gazed around the room. “You didn’t exactly
make this place your own, did you, Cruz?”

Emilia didn’t
reply.

“The mayor is
pleased with your handling of the Inocente investigation,” he said.

“Are you?” Emilia
couldn’t help asking.

“A personal issue
with no implications for the city.” Obregon moved restlessly past the desk, not
bothering to look at Emilia. “Carlota is sorry you’re not going to pursue a
position with her administration.”

Silvio cut his
eyes to Emilia. She shrugged. “I like being a cop,’ she said to the back of
Obregon’s finely tailored jacket.

“Of course Carlota
isn’t too pleased with the Lomas Bottling scandal,” Obregon went on as if
Emilia hadn’t spoken. He examined the papers stuck on the wall.

“No, I guess she
wouldn’t be,” Emilia said.

“Unfortunate,”
Obregon replied, drawing out the word. He stood in front of the detective phone
roster and slowly drew his finger down the list.

Emilia waited for
him to say something else. A silent tension filled the room. As she tried to
think what he really was there for, it dawned on her that Obregon was waiting
for her to tell him how much she knew about Villahermosa and Inocente and the
whole smuggling scheme.
He’s looking for the real money
, she thought.
He’s
been looking for it all along, setting me up to find it for him.
Cold sweat
prickled the back of her neck.

Finally Obregon
turned around. Once more Emilia was reminded of a hunter. He was a hawk
silently assessing its prey from a great height. “The union has considered the
case of an alleged altercation between yourself, Detective Cruz, and Detective
Gomez.”

“That was quick,”
Emilia said. No one from the union had asked her any questions, called her, or
otherwise been in touch.

“Detective Gomez
has been fined for the destruction of public property and a letter of reprimand
will go into his file.”

“I see,” Emilia
said. She wondered what her own censure would be.

“The union is also
recommending that unisex signs be placed outside police restrooms that are so
designated.”

Silvio made a
gagging sound that subsided into a cough.

“That would be
very helpful,” Emilia said neutrally. It was a subtle message but she
understood it. With the ruling on Gomez, Obregon was reminding her that he had
the power to protect and to punish.

Obregon turned,
gave a last look around the office and let his gaze rest on Emilia. “You’re
smarter than I thought, Cruz,” he said. “I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”

She didn’t reply.

He nodded at
Silvio. “Nice to see you’re making friends, Silvio.”

Silvio didn’t
react.

“My condolences on
the passing of Señor Villahermosa,” Emilia said.

Obregon strode to
the door, gave Emilia a lingering look, and then walked out. The squadroom had been
hushed before, as no doubt all the detectives tried to make out the
conversation going on inside
el teniente’s
office, but as Obregon passed
the space was deathly quiet. Emilia heard the door to the squadroom open, then
close as someone walked through. The noise level went back to normal.

Emilia sat down
abruptly, her knees wobbly.

“You think he was
in on it?” Silvio asked.

“One and two,”
Emilia replied.