Broken Saint, The (16 page)

Chapter 26

“Amber Cunningham—the girl who’s supposed to be Maricel’s
friend but doesn’t like her?—caught her boyfriend, Jared, with his dick in
Maricel’s mouth.”

“Lovely,” the chief said. He looked up from his
screen.

“So Amber and her boyfriend get in this big fight
and he pops her in the face.”

“Does she want to press charges?”

“Not sure. “I explained that she could. Told her
I’d help her if she wanted.”

“So connect this to the murder.”

Ryan said, “We’re not sure it is connected. I
guess it’s possible Jared blames Maricel—”

“Because his penis ends up in her mouth?” The
chief looked skeptical. “You seeing that as a possible motive?”

“Yeah, Jared’s a total scumbag,” I said. “We got
all this from Amber. Jared just lied to us, telling us she cut her face when
she was drunk and fell, but maybe that was him not wanting an assault charge.”

“Can Amber provide an alibi for Jared that night?”

“Not a good one,” I said. “He spent the night
there at her apartment, but she didn’t say he was there the whole time. She was
asleep. He might’ve left without waking her.”

“You have anything you can use on Jared?”

I looked at Ryan, and we both shook our heads. “I
don’t see probable cause for searching his place or his car,” I said. “I think
the best thing is to see what happens when Jared has a chance to talk to
Amber.”

“How do you see that unfolding?”

“Well, I’m not even sure it’s gonna happen,” I
said. “Jared’s so egotistical he thinks he’s good with us, with his story of
Amber cutting her face when she fell down. He might not even know we broke her
down and got the real story. So he might be laying low for a while, thinking
Amber’s too much trouble to screw anymore.”

“But Amber might get in touch with Jared,” the chief
said.

“That’s a real possibility. She might want to
officially break it off.”

“And he might do something that gives us an
opening.”

“Maybe,” I said. “My money’s on him seeing a
breakup as a good thing. Amber was just a reliable hard-on to him. If she
wasn’t too high-maintenance before, she sure is now.”

“But you made it clear she can get in touch with
you if he threatens her?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, let me know if you need some manpower to
watch Jared.”

“Sure, Chief.”

“In the meantime,” he said, “I’d look again at
Hector. It was his girlfriend brought Jared into the bed.”

“Absolutely, Chief.”

When we got back to our desks, I said, “How about
we talk to Hector on campus again, before he gets a chance to call the damn
lawyer?”

“Yeah,” Ryan said. “Worst he can do is tell us
he’s not going to talk to …”

I looked over at him when he stopped talking. He
was focused on his screen. “What you got?”

“An email from one of Maricel’s teachers.”

“At the university?”

“No, sorry,” he said. “One of her high-school
English teachers. In the Philippines.”

“Why’s she writing to you?”

“I emailed a few principals in the public schools
in Manila. To see if anyone there remembers Maricel.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” He was reading the email.

I sat down. He’d tell me what he had after he was
done reading it.

“Okay,” Ryan said, looking up from his monitor.
“The email is from Angelica Flores, who teaches tenth-grade English in the Jose
Abad Santos High School in Manila. She writes that she was very sad upon
learning of the death of Maricel—”

“You sure this person is referring to our
Maricel?”

“Yes, I used her Philippine ID number in my emails.
It’s our Maricel.”

“Okay, she’s sorry to hear Maricel is dead. What
else?”

“Let’s see. She says she knew Maricel was an
orphan. Very good student. Shy. Not many friends. But she still remembers a
short story Maricel wrote.”

“From four years ago?”

“Apparently.” Ryan raised his eyebrows. “It was a
story about a young Filipino woman who fell in love with a white man who was
visiting the Philippines.”

“Is that so?” I said. “How did the story end?”

“She doesn’t say in the email. Just that she
thought Maricel was a bright student who’d been through some rough times. If
there’s anything she can do,
et cetera
.”

I looked at Ryan. He looked back at me.

“Well?” he said.

“Well, what?”

“Don’t you think it’s obvious what’s going on
here?”

“So few things are obvious to me, Ryan. Spell it
out.”

“Maricel was Al Gerson’s daughter.”

“He’s the white man in the story?”

“Yes.”

“There’s no other white man could’ve been in that
story?”

“It’s Gerson. I know it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he hasn’t been straight with us, from the
first thing he told us about her.”

“Let’s say he was her father. You saying he killed
her?”

He sighed. “I’m not sure.”

“This Mormon guy, he runs a ward, you think he’s
capable of killing his own daughter?”

Ryan was silent for a minute. “Maricel writes this
story about a Filipino woman and a white man. You’re right,” Ryan said. “It doesn’t
mean Al Gerson was the guy. Maybe he wasn’t her father, but she thought he
was.”

“And?”

“And she comes here to shake him down.”

“That’s kind of a stretch.”

“Listen, she does her research, learns there’s
this guy who served his mission in Manila. The time lines up with her birth.
He’s got himself a good academic gig in the U.S., has a lot to lose. A scandal
like that could cost him his career. A couple of thousand bucks makes her go
away.”

“I don’t like it.” I was shaking my head. “How
does she know this academic was swinging his dick when he was supposed to be
doing his mission? Aren’t you guys supposed to keep it in your pants?”

“Yes, Karen.” He spoke slowly, trying to stay
patient. “The Church really wants us to gain converts by talking to the
natives, not by sleeping with them. But we don’t know anything about Maricel.
And we don’t know much about Gerson.
She could
have family in Manila who caught Gerson sleeping with a Filipino. If that
Filipino is willing to take a cut of the blackmail—or is dead and out of the
picture—what’s to keep Maricel from doing a little entrepreneurship?”

“She picks up and moves to the U.S., to the middle
of Montana, because she sees Gerson as a mark?”

“It’s possible. She knows Gerson did his mission
there—which I found out in two minutes on the Web—she tells him a sad story, he
greases the wheels for her. Which, by the way, he already admitted to doing by
changing her residence on the application forms. She sets up in his house, for
free. Then, she starts to go to work on him. He’s not sure whether she’s his
daughter, but he can’t afford to take the chance. So he starts paying her off.
Then she raises the price. He doesn’t want to pay anymore. You can’t tell me
that’s impossible.”

“Give me a little time to think about it. I’ll
come up with some reason it’s impossible.”

“We need to get a look at his financials. If she
was blackmailing him, it’ll be clear.”

“How do you propose we do that?”

“Ask the chief for authorization.”

“No,” I paused. “There’s not enough to go on. I’m
not gonna put in for his financials because a high-school girl wrote a story
about a white man.”

“Come on, Karen. This could be the break we’ve
been looking for.”

“No, the chief wouldn’t authorize it. I wouldn’t,
either, if I was him.”

Ryan got out of his chair fast. “Well, I’m going
to ask him.”

I raised my palms, telling him to go ahead.

Three minutes later, I got a call from the chief. I
picked up and listened. “Sure.” I hung up.

I walked into the chief’s office. Ryan was sitting
in one soft chair, the chief in another. I kept standing. “You wanted to see
me?”

“Ryan says he wants to search Al Gerson’s
financials.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And that you don’t want to.”

“That’s right.”

The chief said to Ryan, “I agree with Karen. There
isn’t justification. Get me something else and I’ll reconsider.”

Ryan stood, a pissed-off look on his face.

“Ryan, would you excuse us?” the chief said.

Ryan left the office, opening and closing the door
with a little more force than necessary.

“What’s going on with Ryan?” the chief said.

“You mean wanting to get Gerson’s financials?” The
chief nodded. “I think he’s really angry that this hot-shit Mormon’s been lying
to us about who Maricel was.”

“So there’s a Mormon liar?”

“I’ve already had that conversation with him. But
I think Ryan’s all out of shape that it’s one Mormon lying to another. They’re
kind of clannish, you know. I think maybe Ryan thinks lying to outsiders is one
thing, but lying to other Mormons is a lot worse.”

“Okay, but remember, you’re the lead on this case.
I’m not going to do anything he asks me to do if you’re not on board.”

“I understand that, Chief, and the only reason I
let him come in to ask you is I didn’t want him to think I was shutting him
down. I was thinking if both of us told him the same thing, it would sit better.”

“Yeah, all right,” the chief said. “He working out
okay otherwise?”

“Absolutely. He’s excellent. Just a little hinky
on the Mormon thing.”

“Okay, but let me know if it turns out to be a
problem. I can re-assign him. I don’t want to have to apologize to the provost
or the president of the university.”

“Understood. I think the episode a minute ago
should take care of it.”

He nodded, and I left.

Chapter 27

Hector didn’t hear us walk into the computer lab in the Life
Sciences Building because he was vacuuming the tattered and stained green
industrial carpet. The room had computers on desks arrayed around the perimeter,
with round tables in the middle of the room and, up at the front, a wide
instructor’s podium with a monitor and a bunch of other computer gear on it.

He didn’t see us, either, with his back turned to
the door. We waited a bit, but I got impatient and turned the room lights off
and on. He jumped a little and turned around. I had apparently interrupted
whatever Zen vacuuming trance he was into.

“Hector, you got a minute?” Ryan and I were ten
feet away from him, not trying to get in his face. Hector had turned the vacuum
off and stood there, his hands at his sides, no expression on his face.

“We want to give you an update on our
investigation,” I said.

His face took on a confused expression, like he
wasn’t expecting that.

“It’s about Amber Cunningham and Jared Higley.”

“I don’t want to talk to you without my attorney.”

“Okay, we don’t need you to say anything. We just want
to tell you where we are. Don’t talk, just listen. That way, you can report
what we said to Mr. Samosa but you can’t get yourself in any trouble.”

He stood there silently. Ryan walked over to the
classroom door and shut it.

“Here’s what we’ve got. The night Maricel was
murdered, Amber Cunningham and Jared Higley got into a big argument. He popped
her in the face. Black eye, contusion. Emergency Room. We’re not sure what
happened next, but Jared doesn’t have an alibi for the rest of the night.”

I stopped talking to give him a chance to jump in.
He didn’t. “So we’re liking this Jared Higley for Maricel.” I paused. “Him
being the kind of guy would hit a woman.”

Hector shifted his weight slightly. He looked like
he wanted to talk but wouldn’t let himself.

“We thought you’d like to know that’s what we’re
thinking. Only problem, we’re not exactly sure why Jared would want to hurt
Maricel. Can you give us anything on why Amber and Jared might have gotten into
it that night? Anything that could help us understand why she’d be pissed at
him?” I paused. “Unless we can give him a motive, it’s a lot harder for us to
go after him. The chief is big on ‘It’s the boyfriend’—you know, that’s what
the statistics tell us—but we need to understand what was going on between
Jared and Maricel.”

“Forget it, Karen.” Ryan turned to me. “This guy’s
too stupid to take the get-out-of-jail card you’re handing him.”

Hector moved his shoulders a little, like he was
working out a cramp, but he didn’t make a big move. I could see Ryan’s eyes
fixed on him.

“You’re right,” I said, finally understanding what
Ryan was doing. “Let’s bring him in.”

Ryan moved to within a couple feet of Hector. The
two guys were locked in a testosterone stare, two boxers at a weigh-in. “Let me
try one more question, okay?”

I just waved my hand, telling him to go ahead.

“Hector,” Ryan said, moving slowly toward him, “were
you okay with Maricel giving head to any piece-of-shit guy?”

Hector’s right hand shot up, aimed directly at
Ryan’s face. Not a smart move. I pulled back and unholstered my pistol, clicked
the safety. But I knew I wouldn’t need to use it.

Ryan swiveled counter-clockwise on the balls of
his feet. His left arm came up, the elbow at ninety degrees, sweeping to the
left, deflecting Hector’s punch. Now Hector’s midsection was unprotected.
Ryan’s right hand, a blur, shot out straight at Hector, the fist rotating as it
landed on his sternum.

Hector’s breath exploded out of his lungs, and he
groaned. His arms flapped forward, his trunk went concave, and he fell back, collapsing
on the carpet.

I put the safety back on my revolver and holstered
it. Ryan was down on one knee, checking to see if Hector was breathing. He
shook his head.

“Want me to call it in?”

“Give me a second.” Ryan slapped Hector once on
the cheek, then listened. He slapped him again. Still no breathing. “Damn,” he
said, cradling Hector’s neck to make sure the airway was open. He leaned over
and pinched Hector’s nose and started the CPR.

It was five breaths before Hector’s body convulsed
and he started coughing.

“Okay.” Ryan breathed out slowly, relieved. “There
we go.” Hector was shaking his head, his pupils going back and forth beneath
his half-closed lids as he tried to get his bearings.

I said, “You want to bring him in?” I had a set of
cuffs ready.

“No.” Ryan was himself again. “Let me have another
go at him.”

“You gonna kill him this time?”

He smiled. “Too much paperwork.” He lifted Hector
up by his armpits from behind, still groggy, and poured him into a chair at a
round table in the middle of the lab. We took two chairs on the other side of
the table.

“Hector,” Ryan said, “you okay?”

Hector looked around, seemed to be focusing, but
didn’t answer.

Ryan leaned in toward him. “Hector, I asked you a
question.”

Hector nodded.

“Here’s where we stand,” Ryan said. “You just took
a swing at me. My partner saw it. That’s assaulting a police officer. It’s a
felony. It starts at three months but it could go way up, with your prior. You
understand what I’m saying?”

He nodded right away this time. He didn’t look
good. All pale and washed out, with sweat on his forehead and above his lips.
Part of me wanted to bring him to the hospital to get him checked out. But a
bigger part of me wanted to let Ryan finish boxing him in.

“We could go one of two ways right now,” Ryan said.
“We could bring you in to headquarters, charge you, take your prints, you call
your lawyer, and we crank up the system. With those shots at Detective
Seagate’s house—which we like you for because you’ve got a temper that makes
you do stupid things—pretty good bet you’ll be remanded. That means no bail. While
you’re sitting in jail for couple or three months, you lose your job, you get
thrown out of your trailer, everything you’ve been working hard to protect
disappears. Your life goes to shit. You hear me?”

The silence hung in the room for a little bit as
the two guys stared at each other.

“What do you want?” Hector Cruz said.

“We want you to talk to us. We want to understand
what happened with Maricel, you, and Jared Higley. Like I said before you took
a swing at me, we think he killed Maricel, but unless you can help us go after
him, you’re the star of this show.”

“Ask me a question.”

“We have testimony that you, Maricel, and Jared
Higley had a three-way. Is that true?”

Hector looked down at the table. His hand came up
and he rubbed his chest where he took the punch. He nodded.

“Did you and Maricel make a habit of that?”

He looked hard at Ryan. His eyes were shiny with
tears. “That was the only time. Ever.”

“How did it happen?”

“Me and Maricel had been drinking. She’d gotten
some weed. We smoked it, got pretty high. We were having sex. Jared shows up. I
didn’t know him, but Maricel knew him a little through Amber.”

“How did he end up with the two of you?”

“I don’t really know. I was way over my limit.”

Ryan looked at him. “Our testimony was that
Maricel was crying during this episode. Can you tell us about that?”

Hector shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s
true. Maricel was really broken up the last few weeks.”

“About the abortion?”

Hector nodded his head. “I didn’t want her to do
it. But she said she had to. Wasn’t going to let a baby grow up without
parents. But after she did it, she couldn’t stop running herself down.”

“What do you mean?”

“Saying she was a killer. A sinner. She had no
value. She was a piece of shit.”

“How did you respond?”

“I told her the truth.” Hector looked up at Ryan.

“What was the truth, Hector?”

“That I loved her. That God loved her. That I
wanted to marry her.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She told me she appreciated me trying to make her
feel better, but how she was right and I was wrong. That she was worthless.”

“So you and she didn’t do drugs—I mean, before the
abortion?”

“No drugs. But she started drinking all the time,
and then the weed.”

“Where’d she get the weed?”

“I don’t know. Maybe from Jared.”

“What happened after Jared left that night?”

“Maricel was crying, out of control. She wouldn’t
talk to me. I tried to tell her it would be okay. She told me to go away, leave
her alone. She didn’t want to see me anymore. She screamed it at me.”

“What did you do?”

“I begged her to talk to me, but she got more and
more upset. I told her I would call her the next day. I drove back to my
place.”

“And that was the last time you saw her?”

He started to cry, slowly, his fingers coming up
to his eyes.