Suspicion of Rage (49 page)

Ramiro's eyes flamed with indignation. "Why should I help José Leiva?"

"Because he doesn't deserve to be in prison, and you know it. At heart, Ramiro, you're not such a prick."

"What do I say, that Ernesto Pedrosa's grandson asked me to do it?"

"I don't care what you tell them. You have the power. Garcia is gone."

"Mother of God." Ramiro lifted his hands. "You want Leiva? Take him. But not this kid."

"Mario Cabrera was used. He's innocent of everything but stupidity."

"Innocent? Ha! Now you're the one making jokes. Who brought a gun into my house?
My house?
Who threatened my wife and my family? I nearly pissed myself He will be punished for this!"

He meant it, and Anthony could see that neither a plea for mercy nor a rational argument was going to make any difference. His voice rose to match Ramiro's. "I think Céspedes was probably right. What if I tell them that? Navarro and the Intelligence Committee should know that you and Garcia were working together, and you had orders from the top."

Slowly Ramiro shook his head. "You would not tell a lie that big. You know the consequences."

"Absolutely. Picture this: an Abrams tank parked on the Plaza of the Revolution, firing rounds into Che's face."

"I don't believe you," Ramiro said.

"This regime should have fallen at the Bay of Pigs."

"Oh? When the Americans come, they can liberate José Leiva, because I am not going to do it!"

Anthony looked at Ramiro for another few seconds, then pushed past him, went out the door, crossed under the portico. He heard Ramiro behind him screaming, "Where are you going?"

In the kitchen, the kids sat at the table with sandwiches. Irene turned around from the stove. Still speaking Spanish, Anthony said, "Danny, Angela. Go pack your suitcases. We are leaving. Irene, you too. Where is Gail, still upstairs?"

He could feel their eyes on him as he went out of the kitchen. Marta was cleaning up the pieces of glass in the dining room, tossing mirror shards into a bucket. She had put on slacks and a shirt, but her hair was still standing out as though she had been tearing it. Behind him, Ramiro shouted, "Marta! Forget what I said. We're staying in Cuba."

"You told me already," she said. "What is the matter with you?" She yelled at the kids to go back to the kitchen and finish their dinner.

"It's your brother who is leaving," Ramiro said. "What a fool I was, opening my house to him, year after year." On the stairs he shouted, "AH right! You can have José Leiva."

Anthony said over his shoulder, "Mario goes with him."

"Mario Cabrera is an assassin!"

The bedroom door opened as Anthony lifted his hand to knock. Gail glanced past him at Ramiro, then said, "What is all this?" Beyond her, on the bed, Karen looked over her knees. She was sitting against a pillow, playing games on her PDA.

Anthony pulled Gail out of the bedroom and shut the door. "We're going to a hotel tonight, and in the morning we're going back to Miami. I want you to start packing our things."

Ramiro cupped his hand and yelled down the stairs,
"Marta, ¡Se va tu hermano. Despídete de él!"
Telling Marta to say good-bye, because her brother was going now.

Anthony wanted to put his foot between Ramiro's shoulder blades and push.

Gail said, "Anthony, what happened?"

"He says he's going to turn Mario over to the police." Anthony walked to the stairs. "Ramiro, what do you want me to do? Beg on my knees? He's no threat to you. To anyone."

"No threat? You saw what he did!"

Marta was running up the steps, her open-back shoes slapping on the stone. "Why is everyone shouting?"

Gail moved around Anthony and took Ramiro's arm. "Come here. Please." He didn't move, and she lowered her voice. "You can't."

"Why not? He tried to kill me."

"He's Anthony's son. Mario is his
son.
^”

"What?" Anthony said.

Marta slowly came up the last step.

Gail closed her eyes. When she opened them, they were focused on Anthony. "I'm sorry. Yolanda told me. When I went to pick up your father. She and I talked and ... she told me. Ramiro, you have to let Mario go."

Anthony put a hand out to steady himself on the wall.

The flush of dark red still colored Ramiro's cheeks. He said, "Is this true?"

Unable to think what to say, Anthony continued staring at Gail.

She touched his arm. "Oh, honey, I never meant to tell you, not like this. I promised Yolanda I wouldn't say anything. She wanted to choose the right time herself."

Ramiro said,
"Mentira."

"I'm not lying to you. When Anthony first came back to Cuba twenty years ago—"

"Ay, Dios."
Anthony clutched his head.

Gail said, "Ramiro, please. You can't have Mario arrested. They'll put him in front of a wall and shoot him. He's part of your family. Your blood."

"Not
my
blood!"

"Your children's."

"I don't care!"

Marta laughed. "Oh, my God. This is so funny. My nephew." She put her hands over her face and slid down the wall laughing.
"¡Qué cómico!"

Ramiro looked fiercely at Anthony. "All right. I give him to you. Get him out of my house. Get him out of my country! He is never coming back here. Never.
¿Comprendes?"

"What about José Leiva?"

"Yes. Take him too. Take them all."

"When will you arrange it with the police?"

"Ahora mismo."
He continued speaking as he went down the stairs, and his words echoed on the hard surfaces below.

Marta fell over on the rug laughing. She muffled her laughter in her hands, and her shoulders shook.

Gail looked down at her, then asked Anthony what Ramiro had said.

"That he's going to call the police right now. He doesn't want to go to sleep tonight with Cobo's body hanging in the garage." Anthony knelt on one knee. "Marta."

She wiped her face on her sleeve, sighed, and looked up at him. Her brows were penciled the same bronze as her hair, and in the last few years, the delicate skin around her eyes had crinkled like tissue paper. He saw his own nearly black irises in hers. She touched his face. "Anthony. It's true. That boy is yours. I thought of this myself already, but I never mentioned it. I didn't want to believe it, but I would see him and think ... maybe." She held out an arm. "Help me get up."

Feeling more than a little off-balance, Anthony pulled his sister to her feet. He said quietly, "Gail, I'd prefer it if you told me you invented this story."

She shook her head.

"Why did Yolanda hide it from me?"

"It was easier. You were married. She wasn't permitted to leave Cuba. Then she met José. There were reasons. Someday she'll talk to Mario. She wants it to be his decision, whether to contact you or not."

"That's how to handle it," Marta said. "It's the right thing." She took Gail's hands. "My sister." She embraced her, holding her tightly. "I have so much in my heart to tell you, and now it's too late. It will be a long time before I see you again. Maybe never, the way things are."

"Things will change," Gail said.

"Si Dios quiere."
Marta put her hands on Anthony's shoulders. "Let me look at you. Think of me often, and know that I am thinking of you. The children will grow up not knowing each other. We have to stay in touch for them, if not for us. I want you to call us every week. We can trade our pictures by the Internet, eh? If I don't hear from you, I will be very mad."

"Marta, you can come for a visit. It's not that hard. A little paperwork."

"I don't know. The wife of a general. Maybe." She laughed. "Tell
abuelo
not to die yet. Wouldn't that be a shock, to see
me
walk into their house?" She patted his cheek, turned, and went down the stairs, curving out of sight.

Anthony leaned against the wall. He felt that his legs might give way.

Gail came over and put her head on his shoulder. He brushed her hair back to kiss her cheek, and his lips remained there. "I am his father? My head is spinning from this. What should I do? Should I talk to Yolanda? It's not right to have withheld the truth. She should have told me. I was always fond of Mario. Now I think of the years we've missed."

"You should wait," Gail said. "Let things settle a bit, don't you think?"

"So I will do nothing. It's not something I do very well. I should talk to her, not now, but soon. You don't mind, do you?"

"I don't mind."

"If that's what she wants, then ... I'll leave it up to Mario. He can contact me or not, as he wishes. He has a father already. I don't want to disrupt their relationship, but this isn't something that can remain hidden."

Gail pulled away and looked at him. Lines appeared between her brows. "Listen, if the police are coming soon, you need to move Mario out of here."

"I think he's already gone."

"Where?"

"I'm not sure. A safe house somewhere in Havana. Hector took him when Ramiro and I came inside."

"How do you know this?"

"I gave Hector the car keys."

"Knowing he would take Mario."

"Well. Hector's mind works in that way."

"Yes, and he knows you very well, too. Marta told me that Ramiro has decided not to leave. Which I'm sure he told you about." When Anthony nodded, Gail said, "Then we have a problem, don't we? What are you going to give to Bookhauser?"

"Ramiro put the files on a disk," Anthony said, "but he won't let me have it. There are too many things on it that would compromise Cuban security. He expects me to persuade the Intelligence Committee myself."

"Fat chance. Where's the disk now?"

"He brought it home, so it's probably still in his briefcase."

"You have to get it."

"Gail, if that disk disappears, Ramiro would have every orifice of our bodies searched before we boarded the flight out of here."

"Steal it. Give it to Hector and let him get it out of the country."

Anthony said, "They call the women's prison 'Manto Negro.' You would go there, sweetheart. They would send me to Combinado del Este."

"So ... what are you going to do?"

"No sé.
I am trying to think of something,
querida,
but at the moment, with all that is going on, I am running a little short of ideas."

Gail's eyes shifted to a point past his shoulders, then widened. Surprise gave way to something closer to anguish.

Anthony turned. His daughter had come up the stairs. She stood there in the hall staring at him, and for only a moment could he pretend that she didn't know. Accusation and disbelief in equal measure were written on her face.

"It is true?" Her lips seemed too numb to move. "Is Mario my brother? Is he?"

There would be no gain in lying to her. "Yes. It appears so."

"How could you?" Color spotted her cheeks, and tears glimmered.
 

"I was never told, Angela."
 

"You let me go out with him?"
 

"I didn't know!"
 

"I hate you."

Anger flared. "Go to your room. We will discuss this later."

She wept. Her hair whirled around her head as she turned and ran toward the stairs.

"Ay, Dios.
Angela!" He went after her. She was halfway down already, and at the bottom, Danny was looking up at him. Rushing past, his sister bumped his shoulder, but he didn't seem to notice.

Coming down another step, Anthony said, "I didn't know, son."

Danny looked at him for another few seconds, then stuck his hands in his pockets, turned, and walked out of sight.

 

 

 

 

43

 

 

It was past midnight when Anthony and Gail reached the southern coast, following Hector's directions. They took a wrong turn and nearly despaired of finding the departure point in time. Finally they took the same narrow dirt road that they had already passed twice. The moon had set, and when Anthony cut the headlights, it was as though a black bag had dropped over their heads. A flashlight went on, then off.

When their eyes were accustomed to the darkness, they walked down a sandy path to the shore. The sea gurgled among the mangrove roots and slapped at the pilings of a ramshackle wooden dock. There was a long, low shape beside it, and the silhouettes of men in the stern.

Hector aimed his flashlight at the ground. He said, "They wanted to wait for you, but we need to go pretty quick."

Anthony heard the crunch of shoes on the shell path, and three figures materialized out of the darkness. Mindless of the uneven terrain, Gail rushed forward to embrace them.

José Leiva's glasses and white beard seemed to float above his dark clothing. He kissed Gail on both cheeks, then reached for Anthony's hand and held it.

"We were worried what had become of you. Maybe an accident. Yolanda wouldn't go until she said thank you. I say thank you as well. You didn't give us much time, did you? I forgot my toothbrush! Our friends are saving what's left of the library, and it will go on. Someone will keep it alive. Everything else, well, the devil can take it." "Godspeed, José."

Anthony embraced Yolanda and Mario, an arm around each of them, and he felt Yolanda's tears on his cheek. "Good-bye," she whispered. "Thank you for my son. For his life. You are in our hearts."

The whine of an electric motor preceded the deep rumble of a marine engine. First one, then another. Water splashed from the exhaust. Faint lights glowed from an instrument panel.

Hector said, "Come on. It's getting late." He directed his flashlight to the gunwale as Mario helped his mother board the boat.

José waved. "Good-bye, my friends."

Gail put her arm around Anthony's waist. He raised a hand in farewell, and they stood like this until the sound of the engines had faded away.

 

 

 

 

44

 

 

Ramiro Vega's influence bumped six people off a sold-out Mexicana flight so that his American visitors could leave the next day. So far no one had reported the bodies in Chinatown, but a
general's absence would not go unnoticed for long. Anthony wanted to be out of Havana before State Security came
around asking questions.