Endangered Species (23 page)

I
studied Eli and Adelina for a moment. They looked as tired as I felt. Even the air in the room smelled tired. I got up and opened one of the windows a crack, then sat back down. It helped a little, but not much.

Eli hung his head and contemplated his hands. “If I had known Nestor would end up dead, I never would have gotten into this. I feel awful,” he said again.

“Under the circumstances, I don't think that's nearly enough.”

“I know.” Eli began kneading one hand with the other.

I massaged the back of my neck to relieve some of the tension in it. It didn't help. My muscles felt like rocks. “Where were you going to sell them?”

“We had a buyer in New York. Down in Chinatown. One of Nestor's cousins. He was going to sell them in Germany and Japan.”

“Didn't you think Chapman was going to hear from his sources that people had bought them and trace them back to you?”

“No, I didn't. Nestor's cousin is in one of the Tongs. They're very secretive. They have connections all over the world.”

I shifted my position. My legs were stiffening up. “I think you might have been underestimating Chapman. He has a large network available to him, too.”

Eli nervously pinched at the roll of fat around his middle. “Even so. Nestor was doing the selling, so he was taking most of the risk.”

“Is that what he told you? Because I think he lied,” I informed Eli. “According to the way Chapman looked at it, you were the responsible party.”

Eli licked his lips. “Do you think he knew I was lying?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I'll ask him when I see him.” And I changed the subject. “Why did you ask me to meet you at that house?”

“That was Nestor's idea, too.” Eli's glasses had slipped down the bridge of his nose. He moved them back up.

“It seems as if everything was Nestor's idea and you just went along for the ride,” I couldn't resist pointing out.

“It
was
all Nestor's idea,” Eli told me, relieved at finally being able to pass the blame for this mess on to someone else. “All of it.”

“Which is why he deserved to die?”

“I never said that,” Eli cried. He looked contrite, but Eli's looks meant as much as a fake ID. “Really,” Eli said. “I mean it. I'm sorry he's dead. I didn't know that would happen.”

Manuel snorted and turned away.

I stood up. “I'm sure that's going to be a great consolation to Nestor's parents.”

Eli gulped.

“What do you think they are going to feel like when they find out? What would your parents feel like?” I pointed to Adelina. “Or yours?”

Adelina and Eli both studied the material on the sofa. Adelina pulled at a stray piece of thread that was sticking out of one of the seams.

Looking at them made me angry enough to spit. “What a stupid way to die.” As if, I thought, there was a good way.

For a moment everyone was silent. The only sounds in the house were the scritch scratch of the tortoises' claws on the floor. Somewhere off in the distance a dog was barking. I took a big breath and got myself under control.

“Tell me about the house,” I ordered, changing the subject.

Eli fiddled with his glasses for another few seconds before answering. “By that time Nestor was getting nervous. We were going to give you a couple of the tortoises to give to Chapman and tell you that the rest had died. We were hoping that would buy him off. That he would figure that twenty thousand dollars was better than nothing.”

“I was going to deliver them,” Adelina told me, taking up the narrative. “Nestor was coming straight from work and he didn't want to leave them in the trunk of his car. Too cold. Tortoises don't like the cold. Especially these ones.” Adelina paused for a second. “Only the fan belt on my car went. Which meant the car wouldn't move. So I phoned Eli and he came over.”

“And put on an Academy Award performance for me.”

Eli gulped. “I called Adelina when I couldn't find Nestor and asked what I should do. She told me I should give you the tortoises, but I didn't want to do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you'd know what a big liar I was and you'd tell Manuel and he'd tell his mother and she'd tell mine.”

“It's nice to know you still have a slight sense of shame,” I observed.

Embarrassed, Eli picked up a piece of lint on his pants and flicked it away.

I pressed him. “Then how come you came in?”

“I called Adelina back and she told me I had to. I was going to.” He gave Adelina a beseeching glance. She examined a scratch on her bracelet. Eli looked back at me. “But when I saw you looking at me, I knew I was wrong.” He hung his head. “I knew I'd made a big mistake.” He shuddered. “And Nestor. Lying there like that. The gun. Saying those things. Nothing was right. I couldn't breathe. I had to get out of there.”

“Who lit the candles?” I asked.

“Nestor did,” Eli said.

“Why?”

Adelina sat up straighter. She gently touched one of her gold hoops, as if to make sure they were still there. “He thought it gave the place more atmosphere.”

“Very romantic.” I thought about how much I wanted something to eat. Something chocolate. Something chocolate with almonds.

“That wasn't the point,” Adelina said. “It was supposed to have made it harder for you to follow him.”

“How?”

Adelina looked peeved. “How the fuck should I know? He read it in some stupid book. He was always reading these stupid spy books. He thought that made him so smart. All it did was give him these crazy ideas. People shouldn't be allowed to buy stuff like that. It makes them think about things they've never thought about. If I were in charge, I'd make that kind of stuff illegal and jail the people that wrote it.”

“I'm glad to know where you stand on First Amendment rights, but can we get back to the matter at hand?”

“I mean it,” Adelina said. “If it weren't for those books—”

I interrupted. “Can we get back to Nestor?” I repeated. “Was he staying with you, too?”

“No. He was staying with a cousin of his out in Mattydale. He was washing dishes in his restaurant and sleeping in the basement of his house.”

I studied her face. “Are you sure you didn't kill Nestor?” I asked.

“Me,” she cried. She flushed. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“The question is, why wouldn't you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave me a defiant look. “You can't prove that I had anything to do with that.”

“I'm not so sure.” I took a guess. “What about this gun, for instance?” I indicated the 9mm I'd taken away from her at her house.

Adelina patted her necklace and sat up straighter. She was trying to give the impression she had nothing to hide, but she wasn't succeeding very well. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, if the forensics unit does a ballistic test, will they find that the shell that killed Nestor was fired from this barrel?”

She gave an unconvincing little laugh. “How would I know?”

I smiled. “You're right. But I feel certain the police will. I'm sure they're going to want to talk to you.” My eyes rested on Eli. “And him, too. I think it's time I called them.”

“But I didn't have anything to do with Nestor's death,” Eli protested. “I swear.”

“After what you've been doing, you expect me to believe you?”

“But it's the truth,” Eli insisted.

“A much abused commodity around here,” I observed.

“The police are never going to believe me,” Eli said.

“Quite possibly,” I told him unkindly.

“I've made such a mess of things. Such an incredible mess.” Then he buried his face in his hands and began to cry.

“Give me your cell phone,” I said to Manuel, trying to ignore Eli's weeping.

He handed it to me.

I touched the top button of my shirt. “Manuel,” I said.

He gave me a vacant look.

“Remember. We agreed.”

“On what?”

“You're going.”

“Oh, yeah.” He scratched his sideburn. “I decided I'd rather stay.”

“What about your mother?”

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“Who are you calling?” Adelina demanded as I powered up.

“I already told you. The police.”

Eli's sobbing filled the background. He was rocking back and forth. “I'm so sorry, so sorry,” he kept on repeating over and over and over again.

Itwas an appalling display. Sometimes there's such a thing as being too in touch with your emotions.

Adelina put her hand out to stop me. “Don't,” she said. “Please.”

I waited.

“Sulfin is the one you want.”

I snorted and resumed dialing. “You hate Sulfin and Sulfin hates you.”

“You have to listen,” Adelina pleaded. “Sulfin and I had a deal going and Nestor found out.”

“You were going back to Sulfin?” My voice crackled with disbelief.

Manuel turned. “Get out of here,” he told Adelina.

She looked at Manuel and then at me and nodded.

Eli lifted his head up and stared at her. His eyes were swollen from weeping. His complexion was mottled. She avoided his gaze.

“And you were going to bring the tortoises with you?” I asked.

She swallowed. Then she nodded again.

Eli sniffed. “You were going to do that to me?”

Adelina didn't reply.

“But I thought you liked me,” he wailed. “I thought we were friends.” He sounded so stricken I had to look away.

“We are,” Adelina assured him.

I wondered what Adelina's definition of friendship was as Eli spoke. “Then why'd you do it?” he demanded, curling his hands into fists. “Why?”

“Some things are more important.” Adelina pressed her lips together into a thin line and narrowed her eyes. “I needed the money. I started thinking about it when Nestor wanted to give you two of the tortoises to take to Chapman.” She lifted her head up. “Eighty thousand dollars is good, but one hundred thousand dollars is better.”

“Especially if you split it two ways instead of three,” I observed. “Eighty thousand dollars, split three ways or one hundred thousand split two. I can see your point.”

Adelina's nostrils flared. “Fifty thousand dollars is enough to give my mother a little peace of mind, a little breathing space. She deserves it. She's had a tough life.”

“Don't blame this on her,” I told Adelina. “Lots of other people are having a tough time, too, and you don't see them doing what you are. Does your mother even know about this?”

Adelina studied the ceiling.

“I thought not. From the little I've seen of her, I don't think she's going to like it very much, either.”

Eli wiped his nose with the back of his arm. “Why didn't you take the tortoises and go to Sulfin's if that's the case?” he demanded. “Why are you here now with me?”

“I'm here,” Adelina said, “because I didn't like what he did to Nestor.”

“And what exactly was that?” I asked.

“You were right. That is the gun that Sulfin used to shoot Nestor with.” She pointed to the automatic I was holding. “I was there. I saw it happen. I arranged everything. I should have left it all alone. I didn't mean for him to die. I didn't. It was an accident.” And she started sobbing, too.

“Stop it,” I said.

While Adelina was sniveling, Eli took the opportunity to run for the door.

“D
on't!” I yelled.

Eli ignored me and kept going.

“I'll shoot,” I warned.

Eli was almost at the front door when I fired a shot into the floor. The noise wasn't loud, but it was loud enough to get Eli's attention.

He froze.

“Get back here.”

Manuel sniggered as Eli pivoted and walked toward me.

“Can't do anything right, can you, dipstick?” Manuel sneered.

Eli ignored him. His hand went up and fixed his glasses. His lower lip was trembling. “I don't know what I was thinking,” he said to me.

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed not to smash him in the face with the butt of my gun. Instead, I told Eli to get back on the sofa.

“I think I panicked,” he told me as he edged around me.

“Shut up, Eli. I don't care.”

“I ...”

“Shut the fuck up!” I screamed.

His eyes widened.

“Next time you do something like that, I swear I'll shoot you,” I said as I gave the gun to Manuel.

“You wouldn't,” Eli stammered.

“Why not?” I told him. “What's another dead kid? Keep an eye on them,” I said to Manuel.

He watched me with surprised eyes as I stalked into the kitchen. I needed to call George, but first I needed to calm down and get myself under control. I filled a glass of water and gulped it down. I refilled it and drank the next one more slowly. Sipping it, I thought about how at one time in my life I couldn't have understood how someone could have beaten the crap out of someone and about how now I could. This was not progress, I decided as I dialed George's number. He picked up on the second ring.

“I'm thinking about Belize,” I told him in a tone I normally reserved for talking about sex.

“Good. Because my cousin called. We're on.”

“Tell me about it,” I implored.

“I'll tell you that if we don't get this Chapman thing squared away, you might not be going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” I put the glass down on the kitchen table and wiped my lips off with the back of my hand.

“Mike called. Chapman is downtown, talking about swearing a warrant out for your arrest.”

I cursed under my breath. “For what?”

“I don't know exactly. Something about having something in the store that you shouldn't. Do you?”

“No. But I bet that bastard's going to put something there. Probably tonight when the store is closed.” God only knows it would be easy enough to jimmy open the door and leave something behind. I closed my eyes. I felt a pain in my gut. This was Chapman's way of letting me know what he was going to do if I didn't do what he asked.

“Wouldn't you notice?”

“Not if I weren't looking for it. Some of the CITES stuff . . . well, you wouldn't know what is was if you weren't looking for it . . . but Tim's good. He'll be able to pick it out.”

“Where the hell are you anyway?”

“At Eli's.”

“You've got to start checking your answering machine,” George complained. “I've been leaving messages on it for the last hour and a half. Did you get the tortoises?”

“I have eight. I have to get two more.”

“Where are they?”

“One is at Sulfin's. The other is at Littlebaum's.” I opened my eyes and reached for the package of matches sitting near the stove and started lighting them one after another. “I have to go get them.”

“And then what?”

“Then I call Chapman. I'm going to crucify the son of a bitch.”

“Robin, what are you going to do?”

“I don't know yet. When I do I'll let you know.” And I hung up.

There were only two things I was certain of: One, I wasn't going to let Chapman get those tortoises, and two, I wasn't going to let Chapman ruin my life. I lit a few more matches and watched the arc of their flames as I flicked them into the sink. By now the kitchen was beginning to smell of sulfa, a smell I liked. I pondered over what that said about me as I called Tim.

“Yeah?” he said in a voice that was sodden with sleep.

“It's Robin.”

There was a short pause, then he said, “Do you know what time it is?”

Why did people always say that when you woke them up? I wondered. Would it be better to wake them up if you didn't know the time?

“Sorry. I have a favor to ask.”

Tim coughed, but didn't say anything. I heard the bed creak and bed sheets rustle. He must be sitting up.

“It's important. Please.”

“What do you want?” Tim finally asked.

“I want you to get dressed and go down to the store and go through our stock and see if you can find anything that needs a CITES certificate.”

“Have you started doing drugs again?”

“Chapman is setting up a raid on our store. He's planting some stuff there.”

“Like what?”

“That's the problem. I don't know.”

“Jesus.” Tim groaned. The sheets rustled again. I wondered if anyone else was there. “How do you know this?”

“George told me. So will you?” I asked after another interval of silence had gone by.

“I told you not to get involved in this.” I swear, sometimes Tim reminded me of my mother.

“And you were right.” I lit another match and watched it burn until the flame was almost down to my fingertips before I blew it out. “You're always right. Now will you go?”

“If I find anything, what do you want me to do with it?”

“Take it to Eli's house and leave it in the living room. I'll leave the key in the mailbox for you.”

“You should be glad you have me working for you,” Tim said.

“I am,” I told him, but he'd already hung up.

As I replaced the receiver, I contemplated what I was going to do with Adelina and Eli. Ordinarily I would have called the police and let them sort everything out, but I didn't want to do that before I got the tortoise from Sulfin, which was why I'd marched Eli and Adelina and Manuel down to my cab.

I would have preferred to drive over to Sulfin's apartment by myself, but that wasn't feasible. I had to take everyone with me. I couldn't leave Adelina and Eli in the flat and expect to find them there when I returned. And I couldn't leave Manuel behind to guard them because I was afraid he would beat up Eli. Anyway, I was thinking it would be interesting to hear what Adelina and Sulfin had to say to each other.

We were cutting across Teall when Adelina leaned forward and tapped me on the shoulder. “You're not taking us downtown?”

I stopped for a red light. “Don't worry. You're going, but we have a couple of stops to make first.”

Manuel leaned his head against the front seat, and closed his eyes. “These seats are really uncomfortable, Robin. You know that? I think you got a broken spring.”

I ignored him and turned my head slightly toward the back. “We're going to Sulfin's to pick up the tortoise.”

“He's probably sold him,” Adelina said.

“I hope for your sake he hasn't,” I replied as I turned onto Burnett.

Adelina compressed her lips and sat back.

It turned out Sulfin kept two places, the one where he lived and the one where he bred his rats. One was conveniently located next to the other.

About five minutes later, Adelina leaned forward and tapped my shoulder again.

“Yes?” I said.

“Sulfin's going to lie,” she informed me. “He's going to say he didn't have anything to do with this, but don't believe him because he has.”

Manuel snorted. “But you, of course, are telling the truth.”

“Keep out of this,” Adelina snapped at him. “I ain't asked your opinion.”

Manuel twisted around in his seat to face her. “Well, I'm giving it. You know, girl, you should keep your mouth shut. Everything you touch turns to shit.”

Adelina put on a hurt face. “You got no cause to say that.”

“I got every cause. You fucked up my cousin. That gives me every right. Look at him.”

I could see Eli in the rearview mirror. He was hiccuping and quietly crying at the same time.

“He was fine until you got to know him,” Manuel continued. “Now he's a mess.”

“What do you care?” Adelina taunted. “Given what you said to him.”

We came to a stoplight. I told everyone to shut up.

Manuel turned back around and faced front. “Well, I'm only telling it like it is,” he replied. “She fucks over everyone she meets. Eli, Sulfin, Nestor. Man, I'm surprised . . .”

“Don't go any further,” I ordered, cutting him off.

Manuel shut up, but a few minutes later, he and Adelina started in again. By the time I parked the cab, I was deeply regretting having done this. Unfortunately, the evening's fun really began when we got inside Sulfin's apartment.

His apartment building hadn't gotten any better since the last time I'd been here. It was still a wreck of a place, a large asphalt-shingled house that had been subdivided into several apartments. Sulfin's was number two. The place where he bred his rats was number three. We walked up a narrow set of worn down steps to the first landing. I told Adelina to knock on Sulfin's door. When he opened it, Adelina and I stepped inside. Manuel and Eli reluctantly followed.

“We're here to clarify a few things,” I said to Sulfin, who was dressed in jeans and a tight T-shirt that made his head look even larger and his chest punier.

He looked at all of us. “At this time of night?”

“Why not? Are we disturbing you?”

“No. I was just watching TV.” And he indicated the set, which was on.

“How come you're up?” I inquired.

He shrugged. “I don't go to sleep until late. I never have. I like the night better than the day. Not that it's any of your business.”

“So ratboy is a vampire,” Manuel commented to no one in particular.

“Shut up,” Sulfin told him. “At least I've got me some plans, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you.”

“I got plans,” Manuel shot back.

“Like what?” Sulfin demanded.

“Like going to OCC, right, Robin. Right, Robin,” Manuel repeated when I didn't immediately reply.

“Of course,” I replied absentmindedly as I glanced around the apartment. “Absolutely.”

Sulfin's place was small and somewhat messy, but it appeared rodent free. It also looked as if someone had run amok with paint samples. In the living room someone had painted two walls pale orange and the other two bright green. The ceiling was yellow. None of the colors went with the purple cloths draped over the love seat and sofa. The red rug, one of those cheap ones you get from a roadside stand, with a picture of the pyramids embossed on it, added another pleasing touch. The effect was enough to make me seasick.

“Interesting decor,” I commented as I walked over to the coffee table. It was covered with parts of a model airplane, a couple of knives, and a tube of cement.

“Thanks. I like it.”

I picked up a gray plastic wing.

“I'd appreciate if you didn't touch that,” Sulfin said, and took it out of my hand. “It's delicate.”

The model box had a picture of a World War II German Messerschmitt on it.

“Where's Barnaby?” I asked.

“Sleeping in his cage. Now what do you want? I want to get back to my program.”

“I want the tortoise for openers.”

Sulfin put his hands on his hips. “I bought him.”

“Then I guess you made a bad purchase.”

“You can't take him from me.”

I laughed. “Of course I can. You shouldn't have him in the first place. Now where is he?”

Sulfin folded his arms across his chest and planted his feet on the floor.

“Come on. Make this easier. It's not as if I'm not going to find it.”

“It's not here.”

“I think it is.”

Sulfin remained silent.

“Manuel, go see,” I ordered.

He straightened up. “Why me?” he whined. Then he took a look at my expression and left.

Sulfin's mouth looked like a prune as he watched Manuel leave. “I want my money back,” he told Adelina.

“Talk to her,” Adelina said, indicating me with a toss of her head.

“Don't bother asking, because it's gone,” I informed him.

“That's not right,” Sulfin protested.

“Neither are a lot of other things,” I said, thinking of Nestor. I was about to say something else when Manuel returned. He was carrying the tortoise in his hand. It was a little larger than his palm. The starburst pattern of its shell was lost in the room's bright colors.

“Where was it?” I asked him.

“In a box in Sulfin's bedroom. Now what?”

“Call George and tell him to pick you up and drive you back to Eli's. I want you to leave the tortoise there.”

Manuel grimaced.

“And be sure and wrap the tortoise up in something before you take it out—I don't want it getting cold.”

“Anything else?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes. You can hand me the phone when you're done.”

While Manuel spoke to George, I watched Adelina, Sulfin, and Eli. They were all glowering at each other. Their brief partnership had dissolved like sugar in hot water. Now all they wanted to do was save themselves.