Naked in Havana (19 page)

“You know my name,” I said, trying to be brave.

He nodded to one of the other men. “Please, assist me,” he said. The man stepped forward and slapped me again. “The señor asked you a question.”

“Magdalena Fuentes,” I said and put my head down, so that he couldn’t hit me again.

He seemed satisfied with that.

“Well, Magdalena Fuentes, shall I tell you why you are here?”

I nodded.

“Do you know a man by the name of Luis Delgado?”

“He’s our family’s driver.”

“That’s right. Did you know you were harbouring a subversive?”

“Luis? He’s not subversive. He stole some jewellery once, but his family are very poor...”

“Is that what he told you? His brothers are all
rebelde
, and Luis himself was captured tonight in the Colón, along with a number of other communists. We found equipment for making bombs.”

“Impossible.”

“You think so? I would bring him in here to tell you all about it himself but he died tonight while trying to escape from custody.”

I felt sick. I wondered if that was who I heard screaming when they brought me in.

He leaned over me, his hands on my shoulders. “Does your father love you very much?”

I nodded.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes.”

“Your father’s a rich man, isn’t he?”

“He owns a music club. He’s not rich.”

“Not rich? Look where he lives, look at the car he drives. How many servants does he have?”

Was it money they wanted? Was this what it was all about?

“Did he not realise his chauffeur worked for the 26th of July movement?”

“Of course not.”

He nodded to one of his men, and they brought up another chair. He put it down in front of her and twisted it around so he could rest his arms on the back of it. He sat down. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“Thirsty. Would you like some water?”

I nodded.

“What about a cocktail?”

His men thought that was funny.

He raised one finger to a guard and the man went to a filthy sink in the corner and poured some brown stained water into a tin cup. He held it to my lips. I sipped some but it was foul.

“Not exactly Cuba Libre,” he said and they all laughed again. What a good time they were all having. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

“What do you want?”

He grinned. “The question is, what do you want, Magdalena Fuentes?”

“I want to go home.”

“Of course. But first you must answer some of my questions. What do you do?”

“I go to school.”

“And what do you learn, economics, politics, history?”

“Drama.”

“Drama. What does that mean?”

“I am learning to be an actress.”

He laughed. “An actress! You know, in the barrio, girls your age they have real jobs. They work in factories. They work in bars. They are dancers. They do something useful. They are not parasites like you. Though I have to admit, you are a very beautiful parasite.” His finger touched my knee. I jumped, as if he had touched me with an electric wire. He lifted the hem of my skirt, slid his fingers underneath. “You want to scream? Go ahead and scream. No one will care. Tell me what you know about Luis Delgado.”

“I don’t know anything about him.”

“He worked for you for how long?”

“Since I was a child.”

“All that time and you know nothing about him? Was he nothing to you?” His hand crept higher, along my thigh. “Are you a virgin, Magdalena Fuentes?”

I wondered what answer would displease him the most. “What do you think?”

“I think you are. I don’t think your rich boys have it in them to make a woman of you.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you.” I looked down at his crotch. “I imagine that’s a feeling you’re very familiar with.”

What in the name of God made me say such a thing? Would I never learn? He put his hand inside my dress and his fingers slipped under my brassiere and fondled my breast. Then he found my nipple and pinched me hard until I screamed. He liked that.

“You need bringing down to size.”

“I’m sure it’s just the opposite for you,” I spat at him, and that got me another pinch and a slap in the mouth as well. He just wanted an excuse to hit me again, and like a fool I kept giving him reasons.

A part of me wanted to beg:
please don’t do this, if you hurt me, it will kill my papi. You don’t know about his heart.
But what would this man--any of these men--care about my father, whether he lived or died? There was no point in bargaining.

I imagined Papi’s face when they told him:
Your daughter’s been taken by the secret police.

Let’s just get this over with, I knew what he wanted. I wondered if it would be just him or if he would let his men at me afterwards as well.

He had his hands up my dress now, pulled my panties halfway down to my knees. I just sat there. I would not let them see me cry, no matter what they did to me. I’ll just turn off, I thought, pretend I’m not here. How bad could it be? Would they do other things to me as well?

I heard voices outside, someone was shouting my name in the corridor outside. He swore under his breath at this interruption. Someone was banging on the door. “You’ll keep” he whispered. “Keep your eyes on her,” he said to his men and went out.

I sat there, head bowed, trying to make sense of what was happening, wondering whether this was my reprieve. I didn’t dare to hope.

One of the guards stood in front of me, a cocky look on his face, his arms folded. There was a bulge in his crotch. He gave me a slow smile and sauntered over, leaned in close. “I’m next,” he whispered.

Then I heard Reyes” voice.

What was he doing here? He and Masferer were shouting at each other right outside the door. He burst in, shoving the guards out of the way. Masferer trailed behind him with another man in an army uniform. When Reyes saw me he lifted his jacket and reached for the revolver in the back of his pants. Everyone started shouting at once then and Masferer's cronies reached for their guns as well. The army man stepped forward, put his arms around Reyes and whispered something to him to calm him down, talking in a slow, calm voice.

Reyes gathered himself, put his arms back at his sides and gave her a sardonic smile. “Am I too late to save your virtue from these gentlemen?”

I looked up at him, helpless and half naked. “Your timing is always perfect.”

He took out one of his famous handkerchiefs, wet it with his tongue and wiped my lip where one of Masferer's goons had split it with the back of his hand. I winced.

“This is none of his business,” Masferer said to the army officer. “She’s my prisoner.”

“The colonel here is a very close friend of President Batista,” Reyes said. “Take it up with him.” He rattled the cuffs and held out his hands. Masferer hesitated, then nodded to his bullies and strode out. The keys were handed over and Reyes freed my hands.

I gasped as the blood flowed back into them. It was agony.

The men stamped out after their boss. The army colonel’s face was immobile. He jerked his head towards the door, it was time to go.

Reyes stood me up and pulled up my underwear, smoothing down my skirt. “Well, I’ve never done that before,” he said.

I tried to walk but my knees gave way under me. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me. I buried my face in his shoulder. I didn’t want to see Masferer’s men leering at me anymore.

His Impala was parked in the street outside. He put me in the passenger seat. I finally looked around. The colonel was gone.

“Where’s your friend?”

A jeep roared past them, full of soldiers. I saw the colonel sitting in the back.

“I wouldn’t call him a friend.”

“Tonight I would. Can I have a cigarette?”

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I do tonight.”

“I only have these,” he said. He took out a silver cigar case and handed me a cheroot. I was shaking so hard I could barely hold it. He had to light it for me. It made me cough. “How did you know where I was?”

“News travels fast in this town. Some friends of mine were at the Shanghai, and they saw what happened. They called me.”

“Who the hell are you to do that?”

“I know people in the army.”

“Who exactly do you work for?”

“I don’t work for anyone. I told you, I never take sides.”

“You did just now. You took my side.”

He started the car and we drove slowly back through the streets towards Vedado. The sun was just coming up, the sky had cleared and there was a lemon aura to the palm trees. Steam rose from the wet cobblestones.

I put my head back on the seat and took another long draw on the cheroot. There were angry red welts around my wrists where the handcuffs had bitten into me. I pulled down the sun visor and checked my reflection in the mirror. Look what they’d done to me. I didn’t recognize the stranger staring back at me; whoever that desperado was, she had a badly swollen lip and a bruise on her cheek the side of a baseball. At least she hadn’t lost any teeth.

“Stop the car,” I said, and I got out and was sick in the street. Afterwards I leaned on the bonnet of the Impala and started to cry. He came around the car, put his arms round my shoulders and held me. “We should get you to a hospital,” he said.

“No, I’m all right.”

“That’s a bad bruise on your cheek. We should get it looked at, make sure nothing’s broken.”

“If anything needs looking at, it’s your head, Señor Garcia. Why would you stick your neck out for me?” I remembered what Inocencia had said to me; maybe he really did love me. Why would he do that?

“Were they going to kill me?”

“No, they just wanted to scare you.”

“They were going to rape me first. That always scares a girl a little, too.”

He didn’t say anything to that.

“Why did they arrest me?”

“I don’t know. Do you think Lansky had anything to do with it?”

“Funny, that was what I was thinking, too.”

“He doesn’t like people saying no to him. He has a lot of friends in the police.”

“What about you? Who are your friends?”

“Me? I’m friends with everyone. I’m a very friendly guy.”

He helped me back into the car and we drove the few blocks to Vedado. When we reached the villa he turned off the engine and we sat there and listened to the clicking as the engine cooled down. “You’re not everything you seem, are you?” I said.

“Who is?”

“You won’t tell my father about this?”

“I won’t have to. He’ll find out himself before he’s even out of the airport. You know that, don’t you?”

“What am I going to tell him?”

“Tell him the truth, that you went to a live sex show at the Shanghai with Angel. He’ll prefer any lie you make up after that.”

I turned to look at his face but it was still too dark to see his expression. “You think I’m a
puta
?”

“No, I just think you have more spirit than good judgment.”

I put my face in my hands. This hadn’t happened. Perhaps when I woke up this would all turn out to be just a bad dream. “He’s going to kill me.”

“He won’t kill you, that wouldn’t be nearly punishment enough. If you were my daughter I’d put you in a convent.”

“
Dios mio.
”

“I still think we should go to the hospital.”

“I just want to sleep.”

“When does your father get back?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Well, good luck.”

I put my hand on his. “Thank you.” I leaned across quickly and kissed him on the cheek, wincing at the pain in my lip.