Suspicion of Rage (43 page)

"Well, he wouldn't have just left her," Gail said.

"I'm sure he wouldn't."

Irene's head turned toward a noise from upstairs, a long wail, muffled by distance and the thickness of a bedroom door. The wail turned to sobbing. There were voices. Then silence.

"What in the world?"

Gail said, "Anthony had to talk to Marta about something."

"Is everything all right?" Irene laughed. "Well, obviously not. Gail, it's been crazy around here. Anthony was screaming at Danny this morning so loudly it woke me up, and after you and he left, Marta started. If it wasn't Marta, it was Janelle, and then Angela wanted to go look for Mario, and I said absolutely not. Karen wouldn't stop asking me what was going on, and you know I couldn't tell her anything. I sent her to the bakery with Danny just to get her out of my hair, if you want to know the truth, but if something happened to her, I will never forgive myself"

"Mother, she's fine."

"You think so?"

"They're probably just having a good time and forgot."

"That must be it," Irene said.

Gail couldn't imagine Danny wanting to hang around with Karen, or vice versa. Perhaps they had called a truce. She crossed to the front windows. "They have to be all right. He's sixteen, and he's not small. And you know Karen wouldn't go anywhere with a stranger." She turned around and saw that her mother's forehead was still creased.

Irene said, "This isn't like Karen. She was supposed to go to the bakery and come right back. She's always very good about that."

"If she's with Danny, I'm sure nothing happened to them. Kids don't go missing in Havana." Gail looked out the window again. "Where's Cobo? If it would make you feel better, we'll send him to look for them."

"I thought of that, but he doesn't answer his door. He must have taken Ramiro to work. I didn't dare knock on Marta's door."

"When Anthony comes down, I'll ask him forthe car keys," Gail said.

Irene nodded, then noticed what she had on. "I should change clothes. Don't I look a mess, though?" She went back to her room, and Gail went to stand by the windows. After a few minutes of staring at an empty yard, she opened the door to stare out at the street.

She turned around when Anthony's footsteps sounded on the stairs. He looked at her from halfway down, glanced to see if anyone else was about, then came the rest of the way. Gail followed him through the dining room out onto the patio. The sun had gone behind the trees to send shadows across the yard.

"It was Cobo," Anthony said. "He went over to Olga's to talk to her, they argued, and he killed her."

Releasing a breath, Gail put her forehead on his shoulder. "It wasn't Marta. Thank God. What happened? Can you tell me?"

"He called her from Olga's on his cell phone in a panic. She said she'd call him back, and she jumped into the minivan. She told him what to do. To clean everything he touched. Fingerprints, footprints. Not to leave anything behind. She parked a few blocks away, and when he was finished, she picked him up and brought him here. He had some bloody towels with him in a bag. When he got in the car, one fell out and landed on her. That's what you heard outside her door, Marta washing the blood off of her clothes. She said she had to help him. If anybody had found out, it would have been bad for Ramiro. Not to mention Janelle's party on Saturday."

Laughing wearily, Anthony put his hands on top of his head and walked to the edge of the patio. "My sister."

Gail looked up at the windows of the master bedroom at the other end of the house. The louvers were closed. She said quietly, "How is she?"

"Marta? Covering up a murder was easy. It's leaving here that's making her crazy. I told her that Cobo is going down for this."

"She's an accessory after the fact," Gail said.

"Not if she and Ramiro are out of Cuban jurisdiction as of tomorrow night, a fact that Cobo doesn't know about."

"Well, how are you going to turn him in?" Gail asked. "We're not planning to stick around, are we?"

"Before we take off, I'll give this information to Yolanda's friend, Carlos Portal. I won't tell him about Marta, just Cobo. He can find a way to get the information to the police. Cobo doesn't impress me as the kind of guy who could stand up to an interrogation. I think he'll crack."

"Does that mean José would be released?"

"Probably. If José can shake this murder investigation, he has a chance of getting out on bail. I could have them out of Cuba that same night."

"I'll say a prayer." Gail took Anthony's arm. "Listen, I hate to bother you with this right now, but Danny and Karen left over three hours ago to walk to the bakery, and they aren't home yet."

"They probably got interested in something and forgot the time."

"That's what I told Mother. She's worried about them. Actually, so am I."

"Karen is safe with Danny."

Anthony swung around to look at the garage. Two stories high, its yellow paint was faded and cracked. A window faced the backyard. The curtains were closed. "Where is Cobo?"

"Mother says he drove Ramiro to the Ministry this morning."

"No, I saw Ramiro leave. He drove himself." "Well, she knocked on his door, and he didn't answer."

Anthony frowned. "When did you last see him?" She thought about it. "When Marta brought him home."

"Two days ago." He looked at the garage a moment longer, then said, "Stay here."

A path had been worn through the grass, and Anthony followed it to the portico between the house and the garage. The living room furniture had been moved out here to make room for the
quinceañera.
Tarpaulins covered the sofas and chairs and side tables. Anthony went around the stacked furniture and up the stairs leading to the garage apartment. Gail hesitated, then ran after him. There was a landing at the top. The daylight leaking in through the decorative concrete block permitted a clear view.

Anthony knocked. Waited. He tested the doorknob. It turned. He swung the door inward. A few seconds passed. He stepped inside. She saw his hand reach out to flip a light switch.

Gail ran up the steps and looked into a room no wider than the single-car garage below it. Twin bed, small refrigerator, a table—

The image hit her brain before she could turn away, and she choked on the smell. A man seemed to be floating against the wall on the other side. His head was tilted, and his face was all wrong—a thick tongue and slits for eyes. His hands had gone puffy and dark brown.

Anthony turned around. "I told you not to come up!"

"Too late now," she said.

Cobo had hanged himself on a door. The rope around his neck went over the top of the door and into the room beyond, probably a bathroom. Gail couldn't see what the other end of the rope was tied to. He had stepped off a wooden chair, which lay on its side. A yellow chair with a rung missing. Funny to notice such details, she thought.

The window air conditioner was running; even so, Gail needed to breathe. She backed up and stood on the landing, concentrating on the worn-out jute doormat. "How long do you think he's been dead?"

"I don't know. It's cool in here, but he's starting to get ripe."

"Oh, lord, Anthony."

"I'd say he did it the night after Marta brought him home."

"Nobody even asked about him," she said. "Nobody missed him at all?"
 

"There was a lot going on."

"What about José?"

"He's basically screwed, unless Marta comes forward. I wouldn't advise it." Anthony's footsteps moved around the room. "There's no suicide note."

Gail ventured another look. Anthony was sitting on his heels next to a green plastic bag. "What's that?"

"The bloody towels." He carefully tipped the bag to show her. The fabric was more brown than white. He shook the bag and said, "Two or three of them."

"DNA," Gail said. "Can't they match the blood to Olga Saavedra?"

"I was thinking of that." He stood up. "I was also thinking that Ramiro and I should have another talk. He didn't want to help José. This might change his mind. He wouldn't want a body found on his property."

"What do you mean? No, you can't call the police. If they come over here, Ramiro won't be able to get out of Cuba."

"There is that to consider." Motioning for Gail to move, he came out and closed the door. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the doorknob.

Gail said, "We can't just leave him there."

"What would you suggest we do?"

She shook her head.

"It's not an easy choice. José Leiva or Ramiro Vega?" He smiled, but there was no humor in it. "Come on. Let's go make some decisions. We don't have much time."

They went through the portico and opened the kitchen door. Danny was standing by the refrigerator cracking ice cubes out of the tray. He looked around when Gail said, "Oh, Danny. I'm so glad you're back. Where's Karen?"

Danny looked from her to his father, then said, "I don't know."

Anthony said, "What do you mean, you don't know? Where is she?"

"I don't know, Dad. I just got here."

"You walked to the bakery together," Gail said. "Isn't she with you?"

"She left. I figured she came back here. I mean, she had the cake and everything."

"Danny, please," Gail said. "Where did she go?"

Irene ran into the kitchen. "What's going on? Is Karen home?"

"No! She's missing."

Anthony said, "Gail, calm down. She's probably fine." He pulled the ice tray out of Danny's hand and threw it back into the freezer and slammed the door. "What happened, Danny?"

"We— We were at the bakery, and I forgot my juice, so I went back inside, and when I came out, she wasn't there. She had the bag with the cake and stuff in it, so I thought she'd gone home."

"You didn't look for her?"

"Yes! I did! I looked all over the place. Maybe she stopped somewhere else."

"Karen doesn't do that," Gail said. "Karen wouldn't just go off by herself."

"Danny, listen to me. Did you see anyone? Did she speak to anyone?"

"No! She was right outside!"

Gail put her hands to her cheeks. "Oh, God! "

Anthony put an arm around her. "It's all right, Gail. We'll find her. I'll go to the bakery and ask who might have seen her." He took his car keys from his pocket. "Do you want to come with me? Or stay here and wait for her?"

"I'll come with you." Gail was aware of a phone ringing.

Danny said, "It wasn't my fault! I told her not to leave."

They were at the front door when Marta called down
_N
the stairs. "Anthony! Anthony,
teléfono."
Gail could see her standing at the upstairs railing in a robe. She was barefoot. She raked her hair out of her eyes.
"Es el general García. Quiere hablar contigo. "

Gail needed no translation. Abdel Garcia wanted to talk to him.

 

 

 

 

37

 

 

Anthony told his sister he would take the telephone call in Ramiro's study, and to hang up when he came on the line. Gail followed him across the living room and into the narrow hall. He allowed her to enter the windowless study ahead of him, then pushed the door shut. The heavy wood made a deep thump against the frame, closing out the noises of the house.

"Why is Abdel Garcia calling you? What did Marta say?"

"I don't know what he wants." Anthony's face could have been cut from granite. He crossed the room toward the telephone on Ramiro's desk.
"Habla Quintana."

His gaze drifted, unfocussed, and for a time that seemed to drag on and on he said nothing. Finally he spoke, but Gail could make no sense of it. Then she heard her daughter's name and ran toward him. She had to press her hand to her mouth to keep from crying out.

At last Anthony dropped the handset back into place.

"Karen! It's about Karen, isn't it?"

He put his hands on Gail's shoulders. "She's all right. Garcia has her, but she isn't hurt in any way."

"He has her? Why? Where is she?"

"He wants Ramiro's files. I assume he wants to know exactly what evidence Ramiro has against him."

"What? I don't understand?"

"He wants the files," Anthony repeated. "If I give him the files, Karen can go."

"But you don't have them. Do you? You said Ramiro had to finish making a disk—"

"No, I don't have them, but I told García I did. I said we needed time to get everything together. An hour. He'll call me back then on my cell phone."

"Where is Ramiro? We have to talk to him."

Anthony raised his hands. "Wait, I need to think."

"Think?
I want Garcia's superior officer notified. That general you talked to. Prieto. He won't let him get away with this!"

"Gail, stop! I can't call Prieto. I can't call anyone. If I involve the military or the police in any way, Garcia said he would have Ramiro arrested. He can do it. He has the power. I can't allow that to happen. We have to get Ramiro and the files out of Cuba."

"But if he's leaving, it doesn't matter what we give Garcia."

"It matters." Anthony began to pace nervously about the room. "If we give Garcia the files, even a copy of the files, he will have a chance to rebut what is in them."

Gail swivelled to follow his motion. "Call Ramiro. Tell him he has to help us."

"No. I can't do that. Ramiro has to remain completely unaware. He would do something. I know him. Then Garcia would have him arrested, and that cannot happen."

"What do you mean? That filthy son of a bitch has Karen!"

"Listen to me." Anthony stopped in front of her. "Garcia found out that Ramiro has been collecting evidence against him, but he isn't sure what it is. It's proof that Garcia has been stealing nuclear materials. Garcia, not Fidel Castro, not the regime. If he has the information, he will twist it to save himself. Céspedes told the Americans that Castro is orchestrating everything. It's a lie, but some of them, like Bill Navarro, believe it. Others don't. They need Ramiro Vega, and they need his files. You understand?"

She felt the panic rising in her throat. "Ramiro can tell them the truth. He can tell them."