Authors: Robert W. Walker
Cuba Blue (38 page)
“Can you be sure? Can any of us be sure? Alejandro is reckless, his heart filled with a venom you cannot conceive of.”
“All true,” said Rita, “but his sins pale beside Arias’s, and I know in my heart that Alejandro’d never murder innocent people. He can’t have had a hand in this Havana business.”
Father Pasqual stood and made his way to the door. Before leaving, he said with clenched teeth, “I’ll hear it from his own lips before I believe it.”
36
The following morning
Alejandro stared from a top-floor window of the Casa Grande, sad that he’d had to part with Reyna, having just put her in a cab for the flight back to Havana.
“We’ve no choice; it’s your father’s orders,” he’d explained. “Same goes for your sister.”
Reyna protested and pleaded and cried, but she eventually she calmed down and left. Should Alejandro’s plans go awry, it was good that Reyna would be safe back in Havana.
Alejandro lit a cigarette, the smoke curling about him where he stood above the street, taking note of the passing life below, paying heed to nothing in particular and trying to remain calm instead of succumbing to his worries about Arias’s plan for him. Most certainly, Arias would be headhunting by day’s end after allowing him and Ruiz to sweat out yet another night. Part of Alejandro’s mind mulled over the chess pieces in play on the now crowded board, when suddenly, he saw a woman climb from a vehicle outside the hotel entrance, a woman with a striking resemblance to Qui Aguilera. When a tall man emerged and stood beside her, he recognized him as well. “Damn, they survived after all.”
After the shock washed over him, Alejandro realized their car was the same grimy little Russian Lada he’d given his brother Pasqual years ago. To cap it all, his brother, Pasqual now exited the vehicle. Alejandro felt a mix of anger at himself for having believed Luis, that Cavuto had actually killed the tenacious Qui Aguilera and the American, Zayas.
This changed everything. If Arias learned of this at the wrong moment, the game could turn in Cavuto’s favor—that he’d not in fact completed his mission after all—and hadn’t killed a third American. Alejandro’s mind turned over this new revelation, examining it from every angle in hopes of gauging Arias’s reaction to this juicy bit of information. “How best to exploit it,” he muttered aloud, while his eyes registered the direction taken by the ghosts of the Sanabela accompanying his brother.
They’re coming here…coming to see me,
he realized with a start.
“That damned Estrada’s broken our deal.”
Of course, Aguilera was here in Santiago, as he’d hoped, guided by the heinous lock, a recurring feature in his nightmares. Detective Aguilera had likely already traced the ancient lock to Arias, the butcher.
Again, he felt glad that he’d gotten Reyna out over her plea to remain—a good decision. Just as dealing with Estrada proved a good decision, regardless of the man’s reputation. He’d counted on Luis shooting off his mouth to Pasqual—wanted Pasqual to come to him. He wanted to tell Pasqual of his love for Reyna, tell him that soon all of his plans for happiness would come true, and that the heart that Pasqual so worried over these past years, now finally burned with a passion other than hatred. But the wily old Estrada had claimed he alone had survived the destruction of the Sanabela—wanting, no doubt, to protect his men, and to cover the footprints of the two detectives on Santiago soil.
He pictured Luis’s toothy grin.
Lying old salty dog.
Still, all things considered, his original plan to crush Arias appeared back on track. To lure and entrap the butcher of El Cobre had been no easy task. In fact, it’d been so ambitious a goal for a single man that at first, he’d shared it with Rita in an effort to get backing from the anti-Castro faction populating Santiago. They took months considering his proposal, but in the end, it’d become his personal operation, a vendetta, which if successful, meant their clandestine organization would take credit for Arias’s downfall. This he’d be content with, but if it failed, he alone would pay the price—most certainly torture followed by an execution, and his deeds announced as the excesses of a madman.
He felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. He’d waited so long for victory, and while he could not yet taste its sweetness, he could certainly inhale its delicious aroma. A scent that had long eluded him. Distracted by such ruminations, he’d lost sight of the group below when a knock at his door startled him back to the present.
Heart still thumping, he shouted more loudly than intended. “Who is it?”
“Your brother. Open up,
AliBaba
!”
Gabriel’s childhood nickname for him for his knack of outwitting the kitchen staff for treats, did nothing to dispel his unexpected anxiety. Opening the door, a relieved Alejandro saw that only Pasqual stood in the hallway. Not waiting for an invitation, Pasqual entered, looking about at the extravagant furnishings. “Beautiful job they’ve done restoring the old place.”
“You didn’t come here to talk about interior decorating. What is it, Gabriel?”
“Can’t a brother say hello without a reason?”
“I know you better than that. Between us, there’s always a reason. Come clean, little brother.”
Gabriel held out a closed fist saying, “I’ve brought you something.”
“I’ve already eaten.”
“It’s not food for the stomach but the heart.”
Intrigued, Alejandro extended a trusting hand, palm up.
Gabriel opened his fist and several toy soldiers fell into Alejandro’s palm. “Recognize these, my brother?”
“My God…our army.”
“Yes.”
“Where did you find them?”
“Where I dropped them. In the cave.”
“The cave? Don’t tell me you led the American and the PNR detective to the cave.”
“So you know they’re here, eh?” Pasqual smiled at him. “There was no stopping them.”
“So, they really are onto
our
story.” He said this with a sense of relief and a faraway look in his eye. “How much do they know?”
“The lock opened Father Cevalos memories, and his mouth—as I suspect you knew it would.”
“Given the trail I peppered for them to follow, they’ve got to know the truth.”
“Which truth is that, Alejandro? El Cobre or today?”
“Both…all of it. From our mother’s death to the deaths of the doctors.”
“Tell me…where’d you find the lock?”
“I’ve earned Arias’s confidence along with a set of keys to his Havana warehouse.”
“How did you know Luis Estrada would dredge up the bodies?”
“It was a gamble. I knew the fishing lanes.”
“The moment I saw that damned relic, I sensed your hand in this.” Pasqual paused and stared. “Did your hatred and vengeance cause the deaths of those doctors found in Havana waters?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. If I had anything to do with their deaths, I certainly wouldn’t be drawing attention to Arias or by association myself. I’m his right hand man nowadays.”
“And soon to be his son-in-law, I hear. Authorities will assume you’re part of it, that you share the guilt.”
“No way. I’ve got it under control, Pasqual.”
“Tell me the whole story, from the beginning.”
Alejandro shook his head. “No…the less you know, the safer you remain, just as with Rita and Father Cevalos. So stay out of it. Rest assured, Luis and I will finish this business.”
“Can you please just reassure me…promise me…”
With a hand on his brother’s shoulder, Alejandro said. “I had nothing to do with those murders in Havana.”
“You just saw to it they came to light.”
“Which puts me on the right side of the law, Pasqual.”
“For a change.”
Alejandro laughed. “Thanks for your confidence.”
“I’m trying to understand. Luis tells me that black-hearted Arias thinks of you as a son, and you’re engaged to
his
daughter?”
“I know how it looks; even more, I know how it feels.”
“How is that, Alejandro? How does it feel to deceive this woman, who was not even born when El Cobre happened?”
“Hmmm…I see you’ve been asking a lot of questions as usual.”
“How can you possibly think that a liaison with Arias’s family can turn out well?”
“You may not understand this, but I love Reyna.”
“Since when have you had room in your heart for anything or anyone but vengeance and nightmares?”
“She’s special…
innocent
. She knows nothing of her father’s past or his current illicit activities.” Alejandro smiled, the first genuine smile Pasqual had seen in years. “You know something strange, Gabriel?”
“What’s that?”
“She knows nothing of my past either.”
“I’m sure you left that out.”
“And another thing, Reyna loves me.”
“But it would be a marriage based on pretense.”
“Pretense is better than the truth of my tangled, ugly past.”
“She’ll find out someday…you know that. And if your plan is successful? What then? Her father is brought down by the man she loves…thinks she knows. How strong is she? How long before love is lost to her father’s ashes…to her grief and tears?”
“God, you’ve not changed. Always preaching.”
“What do you expect? I’m a priest!”
“Look, by time Arias is under arrest and awaiting trial and execution…by then, Reyna will love me without reservation, and it won’t matter.”
“You’re projecting, Alejandro! Still predicting people’s behaviors based on that interior…or rather
inferior
crystal ball of yours.”
The brothers went to opposite ends of the room, each having grown red-faced, fists clenched. Pasqual was the first to unclench his hands and speak. “Look, Alejandro, even you can’t believe that lies and deceit can forge a cornerstone for anything lasting.”
“Perhaps your third-rate Jesuit psychology works for most—
Father Pasqual
—but for me, Reyna? She’s different, unique…an angel…innocent…pure and—”
“I can’t believe it, AliBaba, you’re babbling over a woman!”
“—and we can overcome any obstacle.”
“Hmmm…first time I’ve ever heard you speak the word
we
. Perhaps you do love her in your own strange—”
“Hold on.”
“You gotta admit, Ali, ’til now you’ve self-serving life.”
“No argument there.”
“Among the anti-Fidel crowd, you’ve become a legend even if most don’t know your name or face.”
“Notoriety is not my aim, and I’ll hear no more of it, Pasqual.”
“But—”
“Ahhh! End of discussion, brother.”
