When Darkness Falls (24 page)

T here were many things that Jack had yet to figure out about Sergeant Paulo. Jack was normally a quick study, but Paulo was a complicated guy by anyone’s measure, and Jack had known him only a matter of hours. A crisis, however, had a way of breeding a certain amount of instant familiarity, as it was difficult to conceal “the real you” when both the stakes and the level of tension were sky-high. At the very least, Jack understood him well enough to appreciate just how serious Paulo was when he told Jack to come inside the command center, meet the old woman who had Falcon’s cash, and hear firsthand what she had to say.

Paulo was alone with her when Jack entered the room. She sat in a stiff, upright position, the fingers of each hand interlaced to form a tight ball in her lap. She was clutching a handkerchief, perhaps Paulo’s. Jack’s first impression was that she was younger than his abuela, but he could have easily envisioned her at his grandmother’s card table with a half dozen elderly Latinas just like Abuela, talking and drinking coffee for hours at a time, perhaps even pulling Jack aside and telling him about a beautiful niece that he should meet. Her hair was short, stylish, and mostly gray. Behind the wire-rimmed eyeglasses were big, dark eyes that were equally sad and sincere. Although her face was wrinkled, her healthy olive complexion had retained some of its youthful quality, as if the creases in her skin were more the product of worry than age.

“So, you are the lawyer who represented this monster?” she said as Jack took a seat at the table.

“I’m Jack Swyteck,” he said. “I was Falcon’s lawyer for a short time, but I’m not here on his behalf. I’m here because he’s holding my best friend hostage, and I’m doing everything I can to help Sergeant Paulo get him and the other hostages out safely.”

Vince said, “She understands all that. We had a lengthy talk before I called you.”

Jack said, “Do you actually know Falcon?”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s why I contacted Sergeant Paulo.”

“I don’t mean to sound like a doubting Thomas, but why did it take you so long?”

“I tracked down Sergeant Paulo as soon as I saw Falcon’s face on television.”

“The local news stations have been airing this hostage standoff all day long, and Falcon’s mug has been all over the media for at least two days, ever since that woman’s body was found in the trunk of his car.”

“I just arrived in Miami a few hours ago.”

“This has been on CNN and some of the other national newscasts as well.”

“I was in Argentina. This wasn’t news there.”

“No, I guess it wouldn’t be,” said Jack.

“I was in my hotel room when I first saw a newsflash update of a hostage situation involving a man named Falcon. The name, of course, piqued my interest. When I saw his picture, I grabbed my bag and came straight here.”

“You mean the bag with Falcon’s money in it?” said Jack.

“Yes.”

“How did you end up in Miami with all that cash?”

Paulo interjected, “That’s getting a little ahead of things. Jack, I think you might want to start by asking how she came to know Falcon in the first place.”

Jack was starting to sense that there were only certain things that Paulo wanted him to know. But as a member of law enforcement, Paulo didn’t have to share any of this information with an outsider, so Jack wasn’t going to pitch a fit about it. “Okay, tell me, ma’am. How do you know Falcon?”

“He first contacted me several years ago. It was by letter. He identified himself only as Falcon. He said that I should get in touch with a twenty-one-year-old woman in Miami, named Alicia Mendoza. She could help me with my search.”

“Your search for what?”

“That is between Alicia and me.” Both her tone and tight expression conveyed that it was an intensely personal matter. Jack decided to move on rather than press the point, perhaps come back to it later.

“Did you contact Alicia?”

“Yes. I came to Miami and talked to her in person.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, that is between Alicia and me.” She glanced at Paulo and said, “Right, Sergeant?”

It was apparent that she and Paulo had reached an understanding about the things that she would and would not share with Jack. Paulo said, “Jack, why don’t you ask about the next time she saw Falcon?”

She was quick to correct him. “I didn’t see him on either occasion.”

“Okay,” said Jack. “Tell me about the next contact.”

“I didn’t hear from him again until just recently. A little more than a week ago, I received a package by international courier. Inside was a key and enough money for a plane ticket to Nassau. He told me to go to the Greater Bahamian Bank and Trust Company and open safe deposit box number two sixty-six. He said that I should take everything that was inside the box, and that I should be sure to use the name Marianna Cruz Pedrosa.”

“And you just dropped everything and went?”

“When he mentioned Marianna’s name, of course I went.”

“So, you are not Marianna Cruz Pedrosa?”

“No.”

“Do you know her?”

“Sí.”

“Do you know where she is?”

Her voice was so laden with sadness that even one-word responses took considerable effort. “No.”

Jack treaded lightly, sensitive to her heavy heart. “What can you tell me about her?”

She drew a breath, then let it out as if it were her last. “Era mi vida.”

She was my life.

The words chilled Jack. His own abuela often used the same term of endearment to convey how much he meant to her, so he had some appreciation of the depth of this woman’s feelings. Still, Jack realized that he was barely scratching the surface of this mysterious triangle-the woman, Marianna, and Falcon. It was obviously a triangle filled with pain and born in Argentina, though it somehow intersected with Alicia Mendoza’s life in Miami. The trial lawyer inside him wanted to ask a thousand follow-up questions and sort everything out immediately. Who was Marianna? What happened to her? Why did Falcon give this old woman so much money in her name? Why did the woman bring it to Miami? But with each passing moment, the old woman was showing signs of increasing distress, and Jack could only begin to sense the breadth of her personal loss and suffering. It seemed only humane to shift gears for a moment, albeit slightly, and let her collect her wits.

Jack said, “Can we take a step back and clear up something you mentioned just a minute or two ago?”

“Sure,” she said as she used the handkerchief to dab away a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You made a point of telling Sergeant Paulo that you never actually saw Falcon in either of the two communications you had with him.”

“That’s right.”

“Then how did you recognize Falcon’s picture on the television this afternoon?”

The sorrow drained from her face, replaced by a surge of strength and stoicism that could only spell anger. “At first I didn’t recognize him, because he has aged so much. But it was in the eyes. I looked into those eyes on the TV screen and realized that I’d seen that monster before, in his younger days. I had just always known him by another name.”

“What name is that?”

“I knew him as El Oso.”

“The Bear?” said Jack. “What kind of a name is that?”

“A nickname,” she said. “None of those men in his position used their real names.”

“So, who is El Oso?”

Her eyelids flittered as she struggled to keep her whole body from trembling. “That’s the reason I’ve come to you,” she said in a voice that faded. “You are dealing with such a very dangerous man.”

T heo could feel it in his bones that something big was about to break loose.

He’d overheard Falcon’s end of the last telephone conversation with the negotiator. As best he could tell, they’d cut a deal that somehow involved Jack coming to retrieve the injured girl. Theo was all for getting the girl out safely from that hot, stuffy motel room. He just hoped that Jack wasn’t stupid enough to try and be a part of any rescue effort.

Falcon, for his own part, was proving to be anything but stupid.

“You two slobs,” he said, pointing at Theo and the weatherman. They were seated next to each other on the floor, their backs to the wall, bound at the wrists and ankles.

“Are you talking to us?” said Theo.

“Yeah, the both of you.” This time he pointed with his gun, which drew a whimper from the weatherman. It was everyone’s biggest fear that Falcon would shoot a hostage, but no one wore it more plainly on his face than the weatherman.

Theo said, “What do you want?”

“You’re going to carry the wounded girl outside and lay her on the stoop.”

“Is that the deal you cut?”

“It’s none of your business what deal I cut.”

“I just didn’t hear you mention anything over the phone about me and lover boy stepping outside the motel room.”

“All I can tell you is that it ain’t gonna be me who opens that door. You think I don’t know there’s snipers out there?”

“Snipers?” the weatherman said nervously. He leaned closer to Theo and whispered, “What if they shoot us by mistake?”

“Then you don’t have to tell your wife what you and those girls were doing in here last night,” said Theo.

The response almost seemed to satisfy him. Almost.

“No talking between prisoners!” shouted Falcon.

Prisoners? Here we go again, thought Theo. Next he’ll be telling us we can’t drink any water. “You’re going to have to untie us if you want us to carry the girl anywhere.”

The look on Falcon’s face suggested that he hadn’t considered that part of the plan. His eyes darted across the room, as if he had no idea where the solution lay. “Okay, forget what I said about it being both of you. One of you is going to carry her.” Again, he pointed with his gun, this time only at the weatherman, which made him gasp. “You carry her,” said Falcon.

“I can’t carry her by myself,” the weatherman said.

“I can,” said Theo.

“Who asked you?” Falcon said sharply.

Theo said, “The girl may be alive, but she’s deadweight. If you want it done right, not to mention quickly, then let me do it.”

The part about “quickly” seemed to register with Falcon. “All right, big mouth. You got the job. But if you try to run for it…”

“I know, I know. It’s a bullet in the back.”

“That’s just for starters,” said Falcon. He pulled his strand of beads from his pocket, rolled the little balls of metal around in his hand, then added, “You can’t even imagine what will happen to the ones you leave behind.”

JACK HESITATED BEFORE hitting speed dial on his cell phone. It suddenly occurred to him that, depending on how Paulo’s latest plan played out, this might be the last time he would ever dial Theo’s cell.

Theo was numero uno on Jack’s speed-dial list, which Jack liked to think said less about his love life and more about the kind of friend he had in Theo. Having a bad day in court and needing a guy who really knows how to pour a drink? Dial 1 for Theo. Your classic Mustang’s been torched and you want to find the punk who did it? Just punch 1 for Theo. Is your client a hit man who needs to show his attorney a little more respect? Theo again. There was no limit to what Theo would do for Jack, which only exacerbated Jack’s feeling that he wasn’t doing nearly enough for Theo in his hour of need. For most people, it probably would have made perfect sense to follow orders and stand aside so that the police could do their job. That wasn’t Jack’s style, however. Couple that with the guilt Jack felt about having gotten Theo into this mess in the first place, and Jack was glad to take on a more active role in the rescue operation.

He hit speed dial, and Falcon’s voice was on the line. “Are you coming to get the girl, Swyteck?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I couldn’t have made it any clearer. You and Paulo. The dumb leading the blind.” He laughed way too hard at his own joke.

“That’s a real knee-slapper, Falcon.”

“Lawyers,” he said, his laughter ending with a scoff. “No sense of humor.”

“It’s hard to laugh when you know the truth.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know who you are.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

“I know all about Marianna Cruz Pedrosa.”

“What’s there to know? It’s just a phony name on the access list to my safe deposit box.”

“No. I know much more than that.”

“You’re so full of crap.”

“I know about El Oso.”

Jack wished that he could have seen Falcon’s reaction, but it was almost unnecessary. The silence on the line was profound.

Finally, Falcon said, “Exactly how much do you know?”

“Enough.”

“How much is enough?”

“Enough to keep my friend Theo alive. Unless you’d like me to share what I know with the media.”

“What makes you think I care?”

“The fact that you changed your name, lied about being from Cuba, went and lived in a burned-out car. The fact that you climbed up on a bridge and got arrested for trying to talk to the mayor’s daughter, and then holed yourself up in a motel room with hostages, and yet for some reason, you’ve never mentioned your dark side to anyone. Or should I say darkest side.”

Falcon’s voice took on an edge, rising with agitation. “I’ll mention it when I’m good and ready.”

“Or I’ll steal your thunder and do it for you.”

“You keep your mouth shut!”

“No problem. Just keep Theo and the other hostages alive.”

He didn’t respond right away, but Jack could hear him breathing out his anger. “Don’t push me, Swyteck. I don’t like it.”

“Nobody’s pushing you. All I’m saying is that if you harm any of the hostages, you lose your stage, your soapbox, your platform-whatever the hell it is you’re angling for.”

“How do you know I want a stage?”

“Because none of your other demands makes sense. And I don’t think you’re anywhere near as crazy as you lead people to believe.”

Falcon’s tone changed again, less argumentative, more respectful of Jack’s insight. “I like you, Swyteck. Deep down, I really like you.”

“I’m truly honored.”

“That’s why I want you and Paulo to come get the girl.”

“Fine. But then what?”

“Then…” Falcon’s voice trailed off, and for a moment Jack thought he’d lost him.

“Falcon? Then what?”

“Then, it’s curtain time,” Falcon said, and the call ended.