Hungry Ghosts (32 page)

“That's not in South America,” said Ramirez. “That's here in Cuba.”

63

Maria Vasquez waited outside the hotel
for her client. A burly security guard walked towards her, about to tell her to move on when her client came out through the revolving glass doors.

“Now, you leave her alone, she's waiting for me,” Denise Labelle said, wagging her finger at him. The security guard shook his head and sidled away.

“I've rented a car,” she said to Maria. “A day at the zoo. Doesn't that sound grand?”

“Are you able to spend that long on your feet?” asked Maria, looking at the woman's cane.

“You mean this?” said Labelle. “Don't worry; I'll be fine. Here, I brought something for you. All the way from home.” She handed Maria a large plastic bag.

“But this is lovely,” said Maria, pulling out a pink leather purse from inside the bag. She folded the plastic bag carefully; they were hard to find. “Really, you shouldn't have.” She admired the purse in
the reflection of the hotel window, shifting the handle to her shoulder. “It's so hard to get nice purses here.”

They walked slowly to the parking lot across from the hotel. Labelle pointed to her rental car, a red Peugeot. She opened the door and tossed her cane in the back seat along with a paper bag.

“Look inside,” Labelle said, smiling. She climbed into the driver's seat and put the key in the ignition. “I got some other things for you too, from the duty-free shop at the airport.”

Maria got in and pulled the door closed. She opened the purse. Inside was a gold compact with a small mirror, as well as a lipstick, condoms, and a pack of cigarettes, Parliament brand.

“The lipstick's your shade of pink. I remember you telling me how hard it is to get lipstick here.”

“
Gracias
,” said Maria. “It's a beautiful colour.” She turned the lipstick to look at the name on the bottom. Last Tango.

“Lovely,” said Labelle. “You'll look absolutely lovely when I take your picture.”

“It used to be a wonderful zoo,” said Maria, as Labelle paid the admission price of two tourist pesos each. “Many of the animals live the way they do in the wild. They're not caged up.”

They walked past dilapidated concession stands, most deserted. Some children swung on noisy metal swings. A peacock scrawed nearby, holding its bright plumage upright like a woman's fan. “That's a male,” said Maria. “The females are brown and quite plain. He's showing off.”

“Men,” said Labelle. She laughed. “We should sit somewhere and have a bite to eat. I had the hotel make a lunch for us. It's in the paper bag.”

They walked slowly past the enclosure for the rhinoceroses, looking for a place to sit. Labelle leaned heavily on Maria's arm, picking her way carefully with the cane. They found a wooden
bench overlooking the island built for monkeys. Across from them was a lion pit with huge rocks. A scrawny lion perched on top of one, carefully watching an ibis graze in a field on the other side of the fence.

“It seems so cruel,” said Labelle. “To keep a predator trapped like that. Letting him see his prey every day but not letting him kill it.”

“I'm sure they're reasonably well fed,” said Maria. “Probably better than we are at times.”

Labelle shook her head sadly. “It's not the same.”

They ate the sandwiches the hotel had provided, drank the juice, finished the pears. “They call this variety Clapp in North America,” said Labelle. “They're delicious, aren't they? The hotel got them this morning; I always check to see if they have fresh fruit from home.”

They began their tour. A notice on an exhibit in the birdhouse explained that some of the more unique species couldn't be bred with birds at other zoos because of disease.

“There are only a few Cuban parakeets left,” said Maria. “I hate to see endangered species. It's so sad.”

“My family's like that,” said Labelle. “I'm the last of the line. I was an only child. My mother and father died years ago. They didn't have any brothers or sisters, so that's it. When I'm dead, there won't be any more Labelles.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” said Maria. “But you're married, yes?”

“It's just the two of us.”

“You don't have any children?”

“Oh, no,” said Labelle. “My husband . . .” She sighed. “It's hard to explain, but you've been so kind to me. I feel like I can tell you anything. We've had our problems.” She fell silent for a moment.

“Do you want to talk about it?” said Maria, taking her hand.

“We used to have a wonderful relationship.” Labelle lowered her voice. “And a really great sex life too.” She looked around to make sure no one overheard. “He liked me to get dressed up. Put on stockings, high heels. Sometimes I'd pretend to be a French maid, or he'd be the pizza delivery man. Having fun, you know? The sex was fantastic. And then I got pregnant.”

They walked to the snake house and stopped to examine the python cage. The giant snake watched them, lazily flicking its tongue.

“I didn't know it, but I had chlamydia. You've heard of it? It's a sexually transmitted disease. One of the bad ones. But sometimes there are no symptoms. That was the case with me. I ended up with an ectopic pregnancy. That's when the baby develops outside the uterus. It almost killed me, the internal hemorrhaging. I had a blood clot. It caused a stroke. I'm still recovering from it. That's why I have to use this cane to get around. And of course the pregnancy was over. We can never have children.”

“Oh my,” said Maria. “That sounds so terrible. But how . . . ?”

“The chlamydia? My husband gave it to me. He didn't know he had it either. Some doctor.” She laughed, but there was no humour in her voice. “And that's not the worst thing he did.”

Maria said nothing, not sure how to respond.

“I found out he was sleeping with prostitutes,” said Labelle. “That's how he got infected. Here I was, trying so hard to live up to his sexual fantasies, and he was acting them out for real.”

“But you stayed with him.”

“Of course,” said Labelle. “I love Adam. He's the most exciting man I've ever known. We met mountain climbing, you know. I . . .” She hesitated. “We used to love climbing together. The rush. There are only a limited number of ways to get that kind of high. He was here with me a few weeks ago. I wanted him to stay. But he said he had to go back to work. I didn't believe him.”

“You don't blame him for what happened to you?”

“No,” she said bitterly. “I blame
them
.”

To get back to the city, they took Airport Road.

“I'm sorry, Maria,” Labelle said suddenly, “I have to stop and pee. Can I go into the woods? Is it safe here?”

“Of course,” said Maria.

Labelle parked. She stepped out, stretched, and retrieved her metal cane from the back seat of the car. She opened her purse and removed a metal-pronged tip that she screwed to the end.

“It's an ice tip. I used to use it when I was climbing. I find it helps me walk a little better when the surface is uneven. Can you come with me? Keep an eye out to make sure no one sees me? Sometimes I need a little help.”

“Of course,” said Maria. She stepped out of the car.

“I don't suppose you have any toilet paper with you?”

Maria shook her head. “It's hard to get here.”

“Well, I guess I can use one of these, then. Damn. I don't have many left.”

Labelle reached into her purse and pulled out a nylon stocking. A black one, Maria noticed. With a long seam that ran down the back.

“You're not limping anymore,” said Maria, as they walked into the woods. The hair on the back of her neck stood up when she saw the yellow caution tape strung between the trees.

A new purse, a brand new lipstick, nylons. Hector had warned her to be careful, but she never expected the killer to be a woman. Maria cast her eyes desperately searching for help. But no one could see them in the trees; they were too far from the road.

“I'm sorry, Denise. I forgot something in the car. I'll be right back.”

Labelle prodded her in the side with the needle-sharp tip of the
cane. “You do what I tell you, or I'll stick you like a pig. I'll end your life right here, I swear to God.”

Maria looked around frantically.

“No, I'm not limping anymore,” said Labelle. “I lied. I recovered. But it's your fault I'll never have children. For a few dollars, a lipstick, a pair of pantyhose, you stupid, careless bitches will spread your legs for anyone. No one uses protection in this goddamn country. The girls here are like the whores in Canada. They kiss, they use their tongues.”

“I don't know what you mean. I'm clean. I'm always careful with my clients. I live with a doctor.”

“My own husband won't have sex with me now, not even with condoms. Doesn't matter what I do. I can tart myself up and he won't even look at me. See these stockings? I ordered them all the way from England, trying to look sexy. The only women he has sex with now are women like you.”

“I'm sorry that this happened to you. But the problems in your marriage have nothing to do with me.”

“They have everything to do with you. Keep walking.”

Labelle prodded Maria sharply with the cane, forcing her deeper under the forest canopy.

“You don't understand; you have this all wrong.”

“You're a whore, just like the others. Women like you ruined my life.”

“But I've never met your husband. Trust me, I pose no threat to you. I'm not like other women, believe me.”

“Don't think you can charm your way out of this.”

She pushed Maria again as they entered the clearing. “My husband is so fucking stupid. He's a medical examiner. He investigates murders all the time. He's been at every one of my crime scenes. I thought that was one way we could spend time together, if he was going to claim he had to work every night. I left clues. They were all dark-skinned women, the women I killed, and it's light powder in
the compacts I left behind. You think he would have noticed it was chalk.”

“Chalk?”

“For mountain climbing. We use it on our fingers to get a good grip. I don't know how many times he'd come home from an autopsy and tell me what he found, and he still didn't realize it was me. He'd even show me the photographs from the crime scenes. I thought for sure he'd figure it out when we got to Cuba and I did it again, but there was nothing in the goddamned media about the deaths. Then I realized it didn't matter. I wasn't doing it for him anymore. I was doing it for me. We're here. Get down on the ground.”

“No. You'll kill me.”

“I'll kill you right now if you don't.”

Maria looked around for a weapon. There were no broken tree limbs, no sticks, no twigs. There was nothing in the purse that she could use. She couldn't defend herself with lipstick or condoms and the purse wasn't heavy enough to make a dent. She'd made the mistake of wearing sandals for the long walk around the zoo instead of her usual stilettos.