The Music Trilogy (50 page)

CHAPTER 37

Monique stayed with Davina throughout the day. Jacques left for meetings with promoters, sponsors and lawyers. As he anticipated, the entire situation was an absolute mess, with lawsuits and insurance claims pouring in. The case was unique. Never before had any of them encountered such a catastrophe. Natural causes such as earthquakes and hurricanes were one thing, but explosions were something else. The meetings went on for hours. Meals were eaten during the meetings and the negotiations. Coffee was poured continuously. Midnight had long since past when they decided to reconvene in the morning. Jacques caught a taxi and returned to the hospital. Davina was sleeping. He was surprised to see Monique still awake.

“
Ma chérie
, you are still up?”

“I was waiting for you, my love. I’m really not sleepy.”

“You are wonderful,” he said hugging her.

Jacques held Davina’s hand and said a silent prayer. He turned to his wife, his eyes moist from the anguish and desperation in his heart. “What can I do?” he asked, exasperated.

“Exactly what you are doing, hoping and praying, and time will help as well. But now you must rest.”

Monique convinced him to sit on the empty bed and in moments, Jacques was asleep. She took off his shoes and loosened his belt. I’ve slept for an entire year, she thought. Now it’s my turn to help.

Monique stayed at Davina’s bedside until almost nine a.m., when she leaned over Jacques and kissed him awake. He put his arms around her.

“
Bonjour, chérie
,” he said opening his eyes.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Oh yes, and I had the most wonderful dream…”

“Really?”

“It was the day of our wedding. We were all together, you and I, and Davina and Alejandro… How is she?”

“Same. Look, your breakfast is right here,” she said, bringing him the tray. “You have enough time to get ready for your meeting and eat and kiss me goodbye.”

“But where did
you
sleep?”

“Don’t worry, I’m just fine. Now get up or you’ll be late.”

Melina and Eleni arrived that afternoon. They came straight from the airport to the hospital. Davina’s condition remained stable. She was conscious and aware of all those around her but she was not talkative.

The older women were immensely happy to see Monique, but there was little else to cheer them.

“Alejandro could surely help her now,” Melina said. “Where can he be?”

“We don’t know,” Monique said. “Nobody knows.”

Sergeant Martinez looked grim as he left the Spanish embassy. Now he knew. And he would tell them, no matter that the Spanish Ambassador made him promise not to tell anyone. His sense of decency would not let him keep this secret. He would tell them, damn it.

He told them at the hospital, in Davina’s room. On the night of the concert, Alejandro was called on an emergency back to
La Havana.
He left on a chartered plane. Halfway to Cuba, contact with the plane was lost. It crashed at sea for reasons unknown. There were no survivors.

“But how can you be sure there were no survivors?” Jacques asked.

“At one time they thought they heard a radio message or a homing beacon but they lost that too. Even if anyone had survived, there was a storm that night. They never would have made it through that.”

“Were rescue parties sent out?” Melina asked.

“Quite a few vessels were sent out, and they did find some parts of the plane. The rest was submerged. There were only three men on the plane, two pilots and Alejandro. The Embassy is quite positive none of them survived.”

“They are mistaken,” Davina said quietly, surprising everyone because she had hardly said a word all day. “Alejandro is not dead. I would have known.”

Martinez stammered an apology.

“He is still alive,” Davina insisted. “I know it. I can feel it.” She spoke calmly. “He has to be found. He is
not
dead!”

“Please my love, don’t exert yourself,” Melina said to her daughter. “You must remain calm.”

“I am calm, Mother.” Things were beginning to fall into place for Davina. She remembered seeing Alejandro at the concert when he wasn’t actually there. “Please,” she said to all of them, to anyone listening, “please do everything you can to find him.”

But what could they do? And who were they to doubt the Spanish Embassy which had sent out search parties?

The following day, Davina was released from the hospital. She went to her villa, where B. A. and other FBI agents and Miami police were. As it was, each of them, she and her mother and godmother, Monique and Jacques, were shadowed by an ever-present guard. B.A. and Martinez insisted it was necessary.

“Where is Jean?” Davina wanted to know.

“I…don’t know,” Jacques answered honestly. “I haven’t seen her since we arrived.”

Davina looked at his eyes and saw that Jacques was telling the truth. He really did not know. She looked from B.A. to Martinez.

“Is Jean alright?”

“She’s okay,” Martinez said. “She’s working as a waitress at a restaurant in Miami Beach. We’re keeping an eye on her."

Davina was confused. “Wait a minute… what are you saying? Where’s Rodrigo?”

B. A. put a hand on her shoulder. “Sit down, monkey.”

“You must know that nothing is very good, Davina darling,” Melina said. “Why put yourself through all this?”

“Someone please tell me what is going on.”

“Davina,” Martinez said, “we’ve got everything we have out there looking for Grady. In fact, there may be too many people looking for Grady.”

“There can’t be too many people be looking for that
salaud
,” Jacques snapped.

“I’m talking about vigilantes, people like Johnny Thornton and Zeferino da Cunha. They want revenge.”

At the mention of her childhood friend, Davina lost her patience. “What does Zeferino da Cunha have to do with this?” she demanded.

“His fiancée, Gina Thornton, died in the explosion at the concert,” Martinez said slowly. “You know da Cunha?”

“Yes. Oh, my God, he must be devastated.

“Sit down, Davina,” B.A. said again. “Please.”

Davina sat down.

“I’m going to cook a big
pastichio
,” Melina said, but she didn’t get up from her chair.

“Please continue,” Davina said to B. A. “Who is Johnny Thornton?”

“Gina Thornton’s brother. He was part of the light crew at the Orange Bowl.”

“Will somebody please tell me what happened to Jean? Where is Rodrigo?”

“Jean wasn’t hurt, “B. A. said. “Rodrigo was killed in the explosion. He didn’t have a chance. He died instantly. In front of Jean.”

Davina sat very straight in her chair. “I’m responsible for this…”

“Don’t do this, little one,” Eleni warned her.

“It was my decision to go ahead with the concert.”

“If anyone’s to blame, I am the one,” Jacques said. “As your manager, I should have been present and insisted the concert be postponed or cancelled until the matter with Grady was over.”

“Now, listen, we can all play that game,” Martinez said. “We can say that security, or better said, the lack of security, is to blame. Listen, Simon Grady is a psychopath. This is not a reasonable human being.”

Melina stood up, wringing her hands. “Stop this! Stop this! This is ridiculous. None of you are to blame. The one to blame is Simon Grady. He must be found so he cannot do this again.” She threw up her hands. “I’m going to make
pastichio
.”

“I’ll help you,” Eleni said, rising to follow her.

Monique, fearing the worst for her friend, put an arm around Davina’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to lie down,
chérie
?”

Davina did not want to lie down, but she was too overwhelmed to think straight. It was as if a fog enveloped her, a haze she could not escape. She let Monique lead her into her bedroom. But she could not sleep. When she looked out the glass door of the balcony, she saw Alejandro.

He spoke to her from the balcony. “Davina,
amor mio
, yes, it is I.”

“Alejandro? Where are you, my love?”

But he went away without answering. Davina ran outside to the swimming pool and looked up at the empty balcony off her bedroom. Eleni and Sergeant Martinez were sitting at a table by the pool. Alejandro was not there. No one else was around.

Davina suddenly felt weak. She slumped into a poolside chair.

Martinez and Eleni, who had watched her from where they sat, stood up to go to her side. “I’ll handle this, Sergeant,” Eleni said. “And thank you again. You’ve been very helpful.”

Martinez wondered at how easily Eleni had gotten information out of him that he had not planned to divulge. Nothing major, but still. This case was really getting to him. Martinez was at turns enraged and frustrated to the point of almost giving up. But he was not one to give up. He could not help but feel responsible in part for the Orange Bowl fiasco, for Grady escaping again. They would catch him, sooner or later. Hopefully, sooner.

Martinez left Eleni and Davina at the pool. He had work to do. He had to catch a psychopath. He worried that if he didn’t Zeferino da Cunha and Johnny Thornton might die trying to catch him.

“What is it, little one?” Eleni asked her godchild.

“He was just here, Eleni.”

“Who?”

“Alejandro. I know what you think, but it’s true. Alejandro was here. I saw him.”

“Where?”

“In my balcony.” Davina began to cry. She buried her face in Eleni’s soft ample shoulder. “Eleni, please, please, you’ve got to help him. He’s not dead, I know he’s not dead.”

Davina sobbed and sobbed. Just like a baby, Eleni thought. It will be alright, she told Davina, holding her as she had held her when she was a little girl, when what made a little girl cry seemed insurmountable—being thrown off a horse, a pet kitten that stayed away for a day. The future was so far away then. But it was different now. It was more difficult to promise Davina that soon everything would be better. The kitten did come back, and the horse learned discipline but what of Alejandro? Eleni was not convinced that it had been Alejandro that Davina saw, but she also knew that it could have been more than just a dream and she was determined to do whatever she could. “We will find him, little one,” she cooed, already thinking of how to find Alejandro, dead or alive. Stefanos would surely have some connections. 

Melina carried a plate of ground meat and pasta she prepared to the table at the poolside. “
Pastichio
,” she declared, hoping it would tempt Davina. It was once her favorite meal.

“Oh, mother, what a nice surprise,” Davina said, wiping the tears. “I have the absolute best mother in the whole wide world.”

“And I have the best little girl in the whole wide world.” She hugged her daughter. “But now I suggest we eat. You have lost weight, you know.”

“Don’t worry, I can’t lose too much weight and anyway it’s such fun putting it back on.”

Her laughter gave them a renewed sense of hope that her good humor would continue. What they didn’t know was how she would react once she understood that Alejandro had died, much to her insistence to the contrary.

“Mother, forgive me, I just can’t right now, but I will. Later.”

“Are you feeling alright?” Melina asked.

“Yes, I’m fine, but…”

“Yes? What is it, my darling?”

“It’s just that I know that Alejandro is alive.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling.”

Melina studied her daughter. Should she tell her to give up, to accept Alejandro’s death or should she let her keep on believing that he was still alive? “What kind of feeling?” She asked.

“I’m not sure. I just
know
he is alive but I don’t know where to start looking. Oh,
Manoula
and Eleni, I need your help.”

“Of course, my darling,” her mother said in despair. Melina knew Davina was very good at helping others with their pain and problems, but when it came to her own self, she worried. Even when her father died, she had been strong for both of them. She understood that this would have been her father’s wish, and she had been strong, guiding Melina through her worst mourning. But would her little Davina in turn be strong for herself? Or would she let go? “Maybe you should get some sleep now.”

Eleni agreed. “Get some rest, and while you do that, we will make some phone calls. Okay?”

Davina returned to her room. She was alone. Alejandro did not appear again, and she finally fell asleep.

“What if she’s right, Melina?” Eleni asked. “What if Alejandro is alive?”