Endangered Species (22 page)

“Don't you believe me?” Adelina said as we passed Eli's room.

I thought about her sister. She looked pretty good for a kid with kidney problems. “No. I don't.”

Adelina stopped walking and turned to face me. “You callin' me a liar?” she demanded.

“Let's just say, I think you have a flexible attitude toward the truth.” I raised the gun slightly. “Now get moving.” Not that it really mattered. Whether her sister did need surgery or didn't need surgery was going to be a social services problem. I was still going to have to get the tortoise back.

Adelina stopped again. “I wouldn't lie about something like that.”

“I wonder why. You'll lie about everything else.”

Adelina flushed. Her mouth tightened at the corners. She touched one of her earrings, then put her hand down and began to peel her nails.

“I ...” she began, but I signaled for her to be quiet.

“Where's the money?”

“It's gone.” She widened her eyes. “I gave it to my mother.”

“And she spent it, right?”

Adelina's tongue flicked out and moistened her lips. “She had to pay the utility bill and the doctor's bills, and she sent the rest to our grandma, because she needed to get her roof repaired.”

By now we were in front of Eli's room. “So if I went in there”—I indicated Eli's room—“I wouldn't find anything?”

“No,” she replied as her eyes involuntarily strayed to the cosmetics bag lying on Eli's bed.

Keeping my gun pointed at her, I backed into the room, walked toward the bed, and picked up the case with my free hand.

“Don't,” Adelina cried. “That's mine.” And she took a step toward me.

“Stay where you are,” I ordered.

She stopped. Her eyes were riveted on my fingers as I pulled the zipper open. I quickly glanced inside. The case was filled with hundred-dollar bills.

“You can't.” Adelina reached for it. “My sister is going to die without that.”

I raised the gun. She dropped her hand to her side.

“If your sister needs surgery, I'll give it back,” I assured her as I tucked the cosmetic case into my jacket pocket.

Adelina whirled on Eli. “Do something,” she urged, a cut-rate Lady Macbeth trying to egg her man on.

Eli studied a stain on the wall. He looked close to crying. “What do you want me to do?”

“How should I know?” Adelina spat back. “Something. Anything. ”

“All right, children.” I raised my voice. “That's enough. We're going to start a new topic of conversation. March.”

Adelina closed her mouth. Her face turned sullen.

“Better,” I said when we hit the living room. “Now, then,” I asked Eli. “Were you at Adelina's house when I went through the place?” It was a little detail, but it had been nagging at me.

He shook his head. “Adelina let me in after everyone was asleep. I'd tiptoe up to the attic, then leave in the afternoon before everyone came home.”

I lowered the gun slightly. “It's amazing no one woke up.”

Adelina didn't say anything.

I watched the second tortoise circle around one of the chair legs and move into the hall. He was moving at a good clip—for a tortoise, that is.

Eli rubbed his hands against his pants legs. His palms were probably sweating. I knew mine would be. “I went to the library in the late afternoons,” Eli said, continuing his recitation as if I was a schoolteacher who asked him to repeat yesterday's lesson. “When that closed, I'd go to the mall and walk around or catch a movie. I think I've seen everything that's playing.” He readjusted his glasses. “It's amazing the junk that Hollywood puts out.”

“Well, at least that's something we can both agree on.” And I told Eli and Adelina to sit down.

They settled themselves on the sofa, while Manuel took up a position against the wall off to one side of them. I carried a chair in from the dining room table and sat on that. It was uncomfortable, but I didn't care. The day was catching up with me. I was too tired to stand.

“Would you like to tell me what's been going on?” I asked.

Adelina and Eli looked at each other and swallowed.

I raised the automatic slightly. “I really, and I do mean really, would like to know.”

“You're not going to like this,” Eli promised.

I told him to tell me anyway.

E
li looked the picture of misery slumped on the sofa. “I never meant to hurt anyone,” he intoned. If everybody had a theme song, that would be his.

I bit at one of the cuticles on my free hand. “So you keep saying. Over and over and over again.”

He sat for a minute as if pondering where to begin. Finally he spoke. “I told you about how Chapman found me.”

“Several versions. Eli, get to the point.”

“I am. It just takes me a little while. You heard about the frogs?”

I nodded.

He looked mournful. “If I'd wetted them down better, they would have been all right. Frogs need to have their skin moist at all times.”

I interrupted. “Eli, I know about frogs.”

“I'm sorry. I know you do. I just didn't realize they could dry out that fast. I thought I had more time. They were so pretty, too. I should have wrapped them in moist towels or washcloths and put them in Ziploc bags, with little holes punched in them for air. Then they would have been fine.”

“Eli,” I said warningly. “Stop crapping around.”

My store of patience had long since vanished. On the other hand, I couldn't make Eli talk. The truth was, much as I wanted to, I wasn't going to beat the story out of him, and I think he knew that. He wanted to tell me what happened. That was clear. But it was also clear that he was going to take as long as he felt like to do it in.

“Don't rush me. I don't like to be rushed,” he told me. He pulled the edge of his T-shirt down.

“No kidding.” I sat back a little in my seat and watched Manuel. He couldn't contain himself. He was rolling his eyes and tapping his fingers against his thighs. I brought my gaze back to Eli.

Adelina leaned over and gave Eli another pat on the shoulder. She was treating him like her baby sister. “You want me to do this?” she murmured to him.

“No. I will.” After another minute, Eli took up where he'd left off. “So, Chapman told me if I made this one run for him, he'd leave me alone. He said he had everything fixed up. He said the customs guys were all taken care of. It was going to be a walk-through. A piece of cake. He was even going to give me a thousand dollars for my trouble.”

I nodded encouragingly, waiting for him to tell me something I didn't know.

“It just seemed easier to say yes. And anyway, I didn't want to have to call and tell my mother I needed money for a lawyer. She wouldn't understand. She and my dad are missionaries. Baptists.” Pride and embarrassment warred in his voice.

I raised an eyebrow.

“That's why I have all those carvings and dolls and stuff in my room. Every time my mother goes somewhere she sends me something.”

I remembered the Japanese geisha doll on the top shelf. “Is that how you got the idea to smuggle the frogs into Japan?”

He nodded. “I lived there for a while when I was a kid. The Japanese like anything expensive and strange. At least, that's what my mother used to say.”

“I'm sure she'd be delighted to know what her comment sparked,” I observed.

Dots of color appeared on Eli's cheeks. “That wasn't necessary,” he whispered, ducking his head and looking down at the floor.

One of the tortoises came crawling by. Eli picked it up and put it in the palm of his hand. The tortoise made a swimming motion with its hind legs. Eli hurriedly put it down and rubbed where the tortoise had scratched him.

“They have sharp nails,” I observed as it crawled away. “But then, you already know that, don't you?”

Eli didn't say anything.

“Did you set up the buy?” I asked.

“No. Chapman did that,” Eli mumbled. “I should never have brought them back to the apartment. If I hadn't done that, everything would have been all right.” He said this earnestly, as if saying it would make it true. “Myra was here when I took them out of the suitcase. She'd come over to tell me how pissed she was about all the money she'd wasted on the frogs.” He took a deep breath. “I thought she believed me when I told her the tortoises were from the Southwest. I did,” he repeated as if I doubted his word. “I didn't think she knew enough to know what they were.”

He drew his upper lip down with his teeth and nibbled on it. “Actually, I don't think she did know,” Eli reflected. “I think what happened was, she went home and checked them out in one of her books.” He paused again as another thought struck him. “I should have given her the money she asked for, for the frogs. If I'd done that, none of this would have happened, because she never would have come up here.” He nibbled on the bottom of his lip. “What pisses me off the most is I think she stole some money from me on top of everything else. I had five hundred dollars in my wallet. And it was gone when she left. All she wanted was three hundred bucks. Why did I have to be so cheap?”

“What does this have to do with anything?” I asked, trying to move the story along.

“I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Adelina said to me.

“Obviously not.”

“She went and told me,” Adelina answered. “And I told Nestor.”

“He didn't know what they were before you told him?” I asked.

“Nestor wouldn't have known an asp from an anaconda,” Eli observed.

Adelina brought the palms of her hands together and raised them to her lips. “I don't know what I was thinking of, telling him. With all the crazy ideas he had.”

Eli leaned forward. “Nestor came to me. He told me he had this foolproof scheme to get the tortoises away from Chapman, without him knowing what was going on. The way he explained it to me, I thought it would work.”

I looked from Eli to Adelina and back again. “Let me get this straight. You're telling me that the suitcase was never stolen?” My voice started to rise as I understood the full import of what Eli and Adelina were saying. “That this whole thing was a scam?”

Eli mumbled something and slowly nodded, almost as if he was doing it against his will.

I opened my mouth and closed it again. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't have said anything even if I'd wanted to. I was too angry to talk.

Manuel didn't have that problem.

He sprang away from the corner he'd been leaning against. “You're kidding me, right?” He glared at Eli. “Right? Answer me, you piece of shit.”

Eli avoided his gaze, looking everywhere else but at his cousin.

Manuel strode toward him. His jaw was out and his fists were clenched. “I'm going to kill you myself, you little fat fuck.”

Eli stood up, trying to get away, but he wasn't fast enough. Manuel buried his fist in Eli's soft, white belly.

Eli doubled over. “Please,” he whimpered.

“Fuck you,” Manuel said and punched him again.

Eli gagged and went down on all fours. A line of drool snaked its way out of his mouth and onto the floor.

“Do something!” Adelina screamed.

Much as I didn't want to, I grabbed hold of Manuel's shoulder. “That's enough,” I told him.

He whirled around. “No, it's not!” he shouted, spraying spittle in my face. “I'm going to beat the crap out of him.”

Manuel and I were standing nose-to-nose. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Eli crawling in back of me.

“Take it down a few notches,” I ordered, enunciating each word slowly and distinctly. The last thing I needed on top of everything else was to have to take Eli to the ER room.

“He deserves it,” Manuel said.

“I agree. You can beat him up later. In fact, I might even help you.”

“You wouldn't do that,” Eli cried as he scrambled up onto the sofa.

“Shut up,” I told him. “You deserve whatever you have coming to you.”

Eli gasped.

I kept my eyes on Manuel. His breath was hot on my face. A car honked outside. Finally he took a couple of steps back and turned to Eli.

“You lied to me,” he said to him, his face contorted with hurt. “You straight out lied. You used me. You dragged my friends into your mess.”

Eli wiped his mouth with the tips of his fingers. “I tried to tell you I didn't need you to help me, but you didn't listen. You never listen to what anyone says.”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Manuel took a step forward, turned, then took another step back. “What was I supposed to do?” he asked rhetorically. “I hear you carrying on. You come up with this story. What was I supposed to do? Ignore it. You're family. How was I supposed to know you were trying out for the Academy Awards?”

“I want you to know...” Eli began, but Manuel cut him off.

“I could have been out dancin' tonight instead of running all over the city chasin' your sorry ass down.” Manuel pointed a finger at Eli. “Don't you be asking me for nothing after this. We are quits. Quits.” And Manuel stalked back over to where he'd been standing and leaned against the wall.

A few seconds later, he whirled around, brought his foot up, and kicked it. The plasterboard cracked. A hole appeared. “Asshole,” he muttered. “Fucking asshole.” He kicked the wall again.

“Manuel, that's enough,” I said.

Byway of an answer, Manuel kicked the wall for the fourth time, then walked away a little ways. No one spoke. Adelina looked shaken. Eli was studying the window blinds. I waited a few seconds to see if there were going to be any more outbursts from Manuel before continuing.

“All right,” I said when no more were forthcoming. “Let's get back to where we were. Eli, if I understand you, the total sum of your plan was to tell Chapman that Nestor had stolen the suitcase and assume that he'd write it off?”

“Yes,” Eli whispered.

“How could you have been so stupid?” In away, the sheer imbecility of the plan offended me more than anything else.

Eli looked down at his hands.

“What did you expect Chapman to do?” I continued. “Say, Oh, well. Too bad. I guess I'll call my insurance agent.”

“He didn't seem like such a bad guy in the beginning,” Eli mumbled. “I didn't think he'd get so upset. I thought he'd just get mad at Nestor, not at me.”

“Which presumably wouldn't matter, because he wouldn't be able to find him.”

Eli nodded.

Manuel was right, I decided. He was smarter than Eli. “What about Chapman's putting you in prison, or was that just a made-up story too?”

Eli studied a spot on the wall. “Nestor said he wouldn't arrest me. That it wasn't worth Chapman's effort, because I'd get a suspended sentence. He said I was worth more to Chapman out of jail than in it.” He recited the sentences, as if he had memorized them a while ago and trotted them out whenever he needed reassurance.

“What did Nestor say about Chapman's threats?”

“He said he was using psychological warfare and that he really wouldn't do anything.”

I remembered the beads of sweat on Eli's lip. “But you weren't sure, were you?”

“No,” Eli muttered.

“Did you think he'd hurt me?”

“I wanted to tell you,” Eli stammered, “but Nestor was afraid that if we did, you'd be so angry you might go to Chapman.”

“Nestor thought we could pull it off,” Adelina added. “He said that if Chapman couldn't find us, eventually he'd calm down.”

“Except that Nestor is dead and your friend here”—I indicated Eli—“is being sought by the police for questioning regarding Nestor's death.”