Havana Bay (18 page)

"I was asked, remember?"

He blew out the flame, but he felt her eyes still intent
on him. He no longer knew why he had answered a
summons he could have easily ignored, but exhuming the reason was more than he cared to do for the Policia
Nacional de la Revolution. All the same, control of
the situation had clearly passed to the hands of the
detective.

Because of the heat they camped on the balcony in
metal chairs. Streetlamps were still lit, and the balcony
was a vantage point to see Luna if he returned on the
ocean side of the Malecon. Osorio seemed to have a different concern, following Arkady's every move, as if
he might suddenly execute a dive to the pavement.
Perhaps candy-colored top and shorts were
jinetera
fashion—she'd given him a brief account of the surveil
lance—but as they only accentuated how fine-boned
she was, with hair in rows of black curls and her eyes
set under extravagant lashes, it was like being tended by
a child. Why he was with her rather than pounding at
the door of the Russian embassy for asylum he didn't
know.

A wave collapsed along the wall, and he wondered
whether the fishing lights farther out rode ebb or flow.
He couldn't see the village of Casablanca across the bay,
but the lighthouse cast and retrieved its beam. Osorio
nudged him and he saw sitting on the seawall the girl
who had been possessed at the
santero's.
Hedy appeared
freshly cleaned and shined and had engaged the atten
tion of a late-night stroller wearing the elegantly blousy
shirt of a European male on vacation.

"Italian is the official language of
jineteras."
Ofelia
had dropped her voice.

 
 
"So I've heard. It's Hedy, the girl from the
santero's.
At least she's on her feet again."

"Not for long." Osorio laid down the words like a
bet.

There were times when Arkady thought Osorio spoke
with the satisfaction of a hangman.» So, just what
happened to her? She was possessed but the
santero
couldn't help her?"

"The drummers were Abakua."

"So?"

"Abakua is from the Congo and she was possessed
by a Congo spirit.
Santeros
don't deal with Congo
spirits."

"Is that so? That sounds awfully ... departmental."

Osorio narrowed her eyes on him.» We can believe
in Santeria, Palo Monte, Abakua or Catholic. Or any
combination. You think that's impossible?"

"No. It's amazing the things I believe in: evolution,
gamma rays, vitamins, the poetry of Akhmatova, the
speed of light. Most of which I take on faith."

"What did Pribluda believe in?"

Arkady thought for a moment because he liked the
question.» He was hard as a barrel and did a hundred sit-ups every day, but he thought the key to health was
garlic, black tea and Bulgarian tobacco. He distrusted
redheads and people who were left-handed. He liked
long train trips so he could wear pajamas day and night. He never picked a bad mushroom. He still called Lenin
'Ilyich.' He warned you never to say the devil's name
because he might come. In the bathhouse he washed
first, then steamed, which is more polite. He said vodka
was water for the soul."

Hedy and her new friend walked out of view. Osorio
stretched her feet out onto the balcony rail, ostensibly getting comfortable, though there was little comfort in
deck chairs. Arkady noticed that the soles of her feet
were a delicate pink.

Arkady said, "I know that Dr. Bias has determined
that Pribluda had a heart attack and he has a point
about the fishing gear seeming to be intact. But maybe
there was more than fishing gear. If you told me
Pribluda keeled over trying to run a marathon, I might
believe it. Basking in the water, no. Let me ask, how
well do you know Dr. Bias? Can you depend on his
honesty?"

She took a moment to answer.» Bias is too vain to be
wrong. If he says a heart attack, it was a heart attack. Have the body examined in Russia if you want, they'll tell you the same thing."

"There are other questions that can only be answered
here."

"There will be no investigation," Osorio said.

"An investigation of Rufo?"

"No."

"Of Luna?"

"No."

"Of anything?"

"No." Her disdain would have flattened a man of
any sensitivity.

A black swell moved under the beam of the light
house. There were times when he could almost feel the
sea reach out to him like a wonderful, dreamless sleep. The balcony faced north toward familiar constellations.
The truth was that he didn't believe in an expanding
universe anymore; he believed in an imploding universe, a furious rushing together of everything down a celestial
drain to a single point of absolute nothing. He sensed
Osorio's eyes watching him.

"I have two daughters, Muriel and Marisol," she said.»
Do you have children?"

"No."

"You're married?"

"No."

"Married to your work? Dedicated? Che was like that.
He was married and had children, but he gave himself
to the Revolution."

"More like divorced from my work. Not like Che,
no."

"Because you have the same ..."

"Same what?"

"Nothing." After a space, she asked, "You like Cuban music? Everyone likes Cuban music."

"It has a certain beat."

"It has a
beat?"

"Primarily."

There was a longer pause.

"You play chess, then?" Osorio tried.

Arkady lit a cigarette.» No."

"Sports?"

"No."

 
"Cuba invented baseball."

"What?"

"Cuba invented baseball. The Indians who lived here,
the ones Columbus found, they used to play a game
here with a ball and a bat."

"Oh."

"You never read that?"

"No, what I read in Moscow was that Russia invented
baseball. There is an old Russian game with a ball and
bat. The article said that Russian emigrants to the
United States took the game with them."

"I'm sure one of us is right."

"The only difference is that Sergeant Luna used a
steel bat."

"Aluminum."

"I stand corrected."

Osorio recrossed her legs. Arkady leaned back to
release a long plume of smoke.

"If there were an investigation," she finally said,
"what would you do?"

"Start with a chronology. Pribluda was seen first at
eight in the morning by a neighbor, a dancer. He was seen last by a co-worker at the embassy between four
and six in the afternoon. She said he was talking on the
street here to a
neumdtico,
a black man. If I could speak
Spanish I'd go up and down the Malecon with this
picture until I found everyone who saw him that day."

"I suppose we can talk to the block CDR."

"I know who that is."

"Okay, we'll do that."

 
 
"And take another look where the body was found."
"But we found it across the bay in Casablanca. You
were there."

"Not in the daylight."

"This is not an investigation."

"No, absolutely not."

"You're not afraid of being attacked again?"

"I'll be with you."

Her eyes seemed get even darker.»
Que idiota."

That seemed to be her name for him.

Finally, he fell asleep in the chair, although he was
aware of her perfume, a faint scent of vanilla that tinged
the air like ink in water.

 
Chapter Eleven

Predawn lent the Malecon an underwater light, as if the sea had covered the city overnight. Arkady and Osorio followed the faint glow of Abuelita having a morning cigar at her windowsill. She invited them into an apartment with walls as worn as old clothes, with layers of color, offered them
cafe cubano
in dark, heavy glasses
and seated them by a statue of the Virgin that had a
peacock feather at its back and at its feet a copper
crown stuffed with sandalwood and dollars. Arkady felt fine, virtually rejuvenated by the fact that Luna had not
returned in the middle of the night with a baseball bat
or pick. Detective Osorio was back in her blue uniform and dark mood. Abuelita showed no burns from having
juggled live coals the night before. In fact, she had the
manner of a young girl only pretending to be old and
at once was flirting with Arkady, thanking him for coming to her aid the night before, allowing him to
relight her cigar, and although the smoke, the scent and
golden hues were disorienting, he managed to explain
to her that while there was no official investigation into
Pribluda's death, there was curiosity about his life and
asked whether she as a vigilant member of the Com
mittee for the Defense of the Revolution could describe
his routine.

 
 
"Boring. Sometimes your friend would be gone for
weeks,
daw,
but when he was here it was always the
same. He would leave at seven with his briefcase and
come back about seven at night. Except Thursdays.
Thursdays he would be back in the middle of the
afternoon and out again and back again. Saturdays, he shopped at the Diplomercado, because he always found
a little something for me. Chocolates or gin. A kind man. Sundays, he went fishing with Mongo off the
seawall or tied inner tubes to the car to drive somewhere
else."

"You're very observant."

"Is my duty. I am the CDR."

"Thursday was his busy day?"

"Oh, yes." Her eyes and her smile widened.

He was aware of missing an insinuation but he
pressed on.

"Besides his extra trip, did anything else make his Thursdays different?"

"Well, he took the other briefcase."

"'Other'?"

"The nasty green plastic one. Cuban."

"Just that day?"

"Yes."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"I'd have to think.
Hijo,
let me think."

Arkady may have been confused but he was not
stupid.» What is the money in the crown for?"

"Offerings from people who want spiritual advice, to
cast the shells or read cards."

 
"I need advice about Pribluda." He added five dollars
to the crown.» It doesn't have to be spiritual."

Abuelita concentrated.» Now that I think about it,
maybe two Fridays ago was the last time? Yes. He left a
little later than usual and came back a little earlier,
around four."

"Four in the afternoon?"

"In the afternoon. Then he left again around six. I
remember because he changed into shorts. He always wore shorts when he went out with Mongo on the bay.
But Mongo wasn't with him."

Osorio was unable to contain herself.» See, every
thing points to Pribluda being the body."

"So far."

Arkady was pleased, too, because everybody had
something. He had a version of Pribluda's final day. Osorio had her moment of triumph. Abuelita had five
dollars.

Outside the day approached more as distinguishable
shadow than as light. As Arkady and Osorio walked up the Malecon a huddled mass proved to be four PNRs
stealing smokes. They approached Arkady out of curi
osity until they registered Osorio's uniform and the
detective gave them a heavy-lidded look that sent them stumbling in retreat. In her uniform and cap, heavy belt
and holster, she constituted a small armored column,
Arkady thought. Or a little tank with laser eyes.