Mystery by the Sea (10 page)

There was not a shadow of a doubt,
Irma Alfonzo had used her rubber stamp on the invitation that Doris brought to
Armando Pedroza’s house the night of the crime. Without that invitation, she
would not have been present. Lorenzo asked himself again and again why Irma
would do such a thing. Edgar insisted they did not need a reason because they
had enough proof to establish that she was the one who invited her. The why
would be explained in due course.

Lorenzo thought it would be a good
idea to bring his attorney up to speed on his finding, so he called him on his
cellphone. But as soon as the phone call ended, he realized it had been a bad
idea. Alexis minimized his finding, implying that it only proved that Irma
possibl
y
stamped the invitation, maybe even at Pedroza’s command. And what does that
have to do with the crime? Nothing. He assured him again that he was working on
the case and not to worry too much.
Back to square one,
thought Lorenzo.

He knew that Alexis was genuinely
interested in the case. He considered his attorney’s advice to be objective and
founded on what was important to the case from a legal perspective. But every
time he thought there was a ray of hope, it was torn apart, and mercilessly
extinguished within seconds by his legal representative. And the worst part was
that he knew it was the sad, naked truth.

It was all the more frustrating for
Lorenzo, too, that Edgar, one of Doris’ colleagues, seemed to have more
enthusiasm and faith in his discoveries than he did at that point. Edgar
insisted that the clue, although far from being conclusive, also pointed toward
Irma as possibly being the one responsible for Doris’ being fired.

“That’s easy to say. The hard part
is proving it,” lamented Lorenzo, depressed.

“It turns out that we
can
prove it. If Irma did it, it’s very likely that she used her office computer to
change the report submitted by Doris. We just have to know how and where to
look,” said Edgar in a scheming tone. Precisely the tone that did not exactly
instill any level of confidence in Lorenzo.

“Well, I would think that if she
used her computer, she must have erased the evidence a long time ago,” reported
Lorenzo dejectedly.

“Oh, of course. I would expect so. I’ll
come up with the plan. You worry about carrying it out.”

“Carrying it out?” asked Lorenzo,
worried about the idea of delving any further into the supposed
plan
that Edgar was concocting in his head. But delving was not necessary. Edgar
started to bombard him with details, instructions, and warnings about his idea,
the objective of which was to extract the information directly from Irma’s
computer outside of work hours.

His plan, to a certain point, was
very simple. Actually, in the downpour of words that Edgar spilled over
Lorenzo, expressions like
easy
,
piece of cake
, and
cake walk
were all too abundant. It consisted of simply gaining access to Irma’s office,
turning on the computer, and connecting a USB drive to the corresponding USB
port.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to hack into
the computer through the internet?” asked Lorenzo, praying to God that Edgar
had not thought of that.

“Impossible. She doesn’t have her
computer connected to the internet. I don’t know what she’s afraid of,”
responded Edgar.

“Me, neither,” pointed out Lorenzo,
holding his brow. The picture became more complicated because Edgar insisted
that Lorenzo had to be the one to enter the office to do the dirty work.

“Why can’t you do it? It’s your
plan. Besides, you’re the one who works there. They wouldn’t be suspicious of
you,” reasoned Lorenzo with the intention of getting out of the risky mission.

“That’s precisely why I can’t. The
guards would recognize me and they would find it odd to see me outside of work
hours when I rarely go in. Don’t worry about the technical part, either. As
soon as you connect the device, the little worm trained by me will do the job
without you ever having to lift a finger. You just have to wait for it to
finish, disconnect, turn it off, and get out of there. It couldn’t be easier,”
explained Edgar with a smile that Lorenzo was starting to hate.

The
little worm
was nothing
more than a small program designed by Edgar to search for and copy all of the
documents created and copied onto the machine, including those that had been
erased. As soon as it was connected, it would execute its job without anyone’s
help. The hard part was Lorenzo’s gaining access to the building without
raising any red flags.

To achieve that, he would have to
enter through the main door, which was manned by a security guard 24 hours a
day. Then he would have to go through the building’s main entrance (also
monitored) and climb to the fourth floor, whose access points (the stairs and
the elevator) were secured by another guard. Finally, he would enter Irma’s
office, which she locked every day upon leaving.

Lorenzo weighed the pros and the
cons of this illegal action which this person, who was practically unknown to
him, assured him was the only way to prove that his wife had been unjustly
fired. Then maybe, just maybe, a door would open that would lead him to other
clues or to establishing reasonable doubt in the homicide case. Lorenzo figured
things could not get any worse. At least clearing his wife’s and his family’s
stained name would serve him some purpose when his son or daughter asked
uncomfortable questions in the not-so-distant future.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” muttered
Lorenzo, closing his eyes. He basically felt like he was being thrown into a
pit with the promise that someone would catch him at the bottom.

“Perfect. We’ll do it tonight,”
exclaimed Edgar in high spirits, as if he were talking about a date to play
video games.

“Tonight? But how am I going to get
in? Where’s the rest of the plan?” asked Lorenzo, alarmed.

“Right up here,” answered Edgar,
pointing to his head. “But I still have to adjust a few details and make a few
phone calls. Don’t worry, “
you’re in good hands
,” he said, quoting the
famous Allstate commercial.

“I’m not worried…I’m terrified.”

“Okay, go ahead and worry now and
leave the terror for later. We’ll meet at 8:00 tonight, two streets down from the
building,” finished Edgar, catapulting down the stairs to leave the tower.

Lorenzo gave one last look at the
sea from his advantageous position and deeply breathed in the beach smell that
so helped him relax. It did not work this time.

 

 

Every dusk during summer gave rise to a spectacle that few
in the area had the opportunity of witnessing. Those privileged individuals
were the ones sailing their ships or arriving home from a boat ride. Being in
the sea at that time of day allowed them to appreciate how the coast line
became slowly speckled with light. The lights began dotting the coastline when
both private homes and inns started lighting tiki torches and strings of lights
to illuminate their nighttime festivities. Music, dance, and food dominated the
festive atmosphere that would continue through sundown. The temperature even rose
in some areas due to the intensity of the partying. The transformation was not
only visual but also auditory. From the sea, it was almost impossible to
distinguish one type of music from another when each light that flicked on was
accompanied by its own special music and rhythm. Everything mixed into a
cultural fusion that arrived to the ear and was then simply interpreted by the
brain as a party, relaxation, and happiness.

Although Lorenzo was somewhat
removed from the action, he could still hear and breathe the festive air that
permeated the entire town. Nevertheless, the atmosphere did not have that
exalting effect on him this time. On top of that, he felt warmer than usual,
even for a summer’s evening. One of the contributing factors was surely the
fact that it was eight o’clock at night and he was sitting in his car listening
to Edgar spill the details of his scheme to acquire the information they needed
from Irma’s office. He also gave him the USB drive that he was supposed to use
to connect to the computer to extract the data.

Lorenzo forced himself not to
squirm in his seat when the most important part of the plan arrived. A white
van pulled up and parked in front of the Pedroza Enterprises building. With
decades of wear and tear, it had obviously seen better days. It had the words
Soltero Cleaning Services painted on the side. Three individuals, two men and a
woman, dressed in white cleaning overalls with the business name printed on the
back stepped out of the van. One of them, who appeared to be the oldest because
of his gray hair and beard, waved hello to Edgar, who waved hello in return.

“Okay, look. They’re ready to go
in,” Edgar said to Lorenzo. “Remember, don’t say anything to anyone. You’re mute,”
he reiterated without getting any answer or reaction.

Lorenzo got out of the car to meet
up with the strangers. While he was crossing the street he reviewed the
instructions laid out by Edgar. He could not deny that, at first glance, it was
a very simple, albeit risky, plan. He had to enter the building as part of this
group, contracted to perform cleaning services in the complex’s offices and
bathrooms. They would, as usual, report to the guard, who would provide them
with the private office keys so that they could enter to sweep, mop, and empty
the garbage cans. Lorenzo would work with them until they arrived at Irma’s
office, which they would open for him. While Edgar’s program was doing its job,
Lorenzo would clean the office. Once he was done with his tasks, Lorenzo would
leave the building with the group and no one would ever be the wiser.
Additionally, Edgar had given him a cellphone with wireless headphones so that
he could give him instructions on how to perform the operation and to offer him
moral support. Lorenzo was to communicate with him as soon as he gained access
to Irma’s office.

“Good evening,” greeted Lorenzo,
trying to smile at the group. No one responded to his greeting. Instead, they
shoved a hat and a pair of work overalls into his hands, which were identical
to the ones they were wearing. Lorenzo pulled on the overalls and sunk his head
into the hat. One of the men closed the van and headed toward the main
entrance.

Lorenzo felt a cold tingling on his
cheeks when he saw the security guard leave his booth and head toward the gate.
He realized it was a bead of sweat but told himself that it was from the hot
overalls and hat. It was already a hot and humid night to begin with. He
rejected the idea that it could be from nerves. At least, not so soon. He
breathed a sigh of relief when the guard opened the gate without asking
questions and greeted the workers with just a nod of his head. He imitated the
greeting without looking at the guard’s face. Then they were directed to the
main door where another guard, with the last name García, was sitting in his
chair waiting for them. When he saw them he stood up and took out a key ring,
using one of the keys to open the door for them. As soon as they entered the
lobby, the guard greeted them with jokes and smiles. Lorenzo could see that he
knew them well. He even called them by name.

“Tell me, Carlos, who’s this guy?”
the guard asked the oldest man in the group, pointing to Lorenzo, while they
walked toward the reception desk, which was toward the back, in front of the
elevators.

“He’s new. We brought him to see if
he makes the cut,” answered Carlos in a joking tone. Lorenzo pretended to be
distracted looking at the floor.

The guard sat down in front of the
desk and opened one of the drawers. On top of the desk was a monitor that
showed the signal from the security cameras throughout the office complex. The
monitor showed an image of six different cameras simultaneously, which rotated
to show the twenty-four cameras that made up the complete system. Out of the
corner of his eye, Lorenzo tried to see if any of the cameras showed the inside
of an office. From what he could see, only the hallways, common areas, and the
building exterior were covered by the security cameras. Good news.

Lorenzo lowered his head again with
his hands shoved in his pockets. The guard gave Carlos the office keys. Then he
said something unexpected.

“Tonight you can only clean the
second and third floor.”

“What about the fourth floor?” asked
Carlos with a big gulp.

“Don’t touch it. The daytime staff
are taking over the cleaning,” elaborated the guard.

“I don’t understand. Why? We have a
contract,” said Carlos, trying to get the guard to let them enter the floor
where Irma’s office was located.

“Orders. No one can have access to
the fourth floor outside of business hours. That’s the way things are now since
Pedroza passed away. Didn’t you hear about that? But don’t you guys worry. They’ll
pay you the same for less work,” stated García to the bewildered quartet. Bad
news.

Lorenzo felt as if a stream of cold
water were pouring down his forehead. His clothes inside the overalls stuck to
his body, soaked in the sweat being exuded by every part of his body in
industrial quantities. As soon as Carlos received the keys he pushed the
elevator button, which opened its doors practically upon contact. The four
entered, with Lorenzo being the last to do so with two very difficult steps.
When the elevator closed its doors, the gazes of the three accomplices became
riveted on Lorenzo. Carlos pulled out one of the keys from the ring and
extended it toward Lorenzo, who stared at it intently.

“Here’s the key you need. But you
have to go up alone. Do you want to?” Carlos asked, waiting for a definitive
answer from Lorenzo.

Lorenzo did not answer; he could
not answer. For one second he analyzed if he should carry out his mission,
under circumstances very different from what he had expected, with so much at
stake. All of this in spite of the rush of adrenaline that was flooding his
system at that moment.

The elevator door opened to the
second floor. Everyone but Lorenzo stepped out. Carlos shot him one last glance
that told him he had only a second to decide.

“Give it to me,” said Lorenzo on
reflex, almost just for the sheer curiosity of seeing what would happen if he
risked it.

Carlos tossed the key in the air
and it sailed between the doors just as they were closing. Lorenzo caught it
without a problem, held it tightly, and dialed a number on the cellphone that
Edgar had given him.

“Edgar? I’m in the elevator headed
up to the fourth floor. But I’m going alone because they’re not allowed to
clean there,” announced Lorenzo, shaking from nerves.

Edgar opened his eyes and jumped in
his seat, almost hitting his head on the roof.

“What? Wait, don’t leave the
elevator!” Edgar shouted into the phone. But it was already too late; Lorenzo
was outside the elevator, standing in the middle of the dark hallway.

“I’m already out, why?”

“The cameras! They can see you on
the cameras! Quick, go in the first door to your left,” begged Edgar.

Lorenzo jumped like a spring,
pushing the door with his shoulder and colliding with the wall inside.
Completely unaware, all of Lorenzo’s maneuvers were in plain sight on one of
the security monitor’s screens in the reception area. The guard sat down in his
seat at precisely the moment that Lorenzo disappeared through the door. He did
not see him.

Lorenzo looked around in the almost
darkness.

“Edgar, this is the women’s
bathroom,” Lorenzo informed him, worried.

“I don’t think you’ll have any
problems with that at this hour,” joked Edgar while turning on his laptop. “Okay,
I’ll have to help you here. Wait.”

“But how? You don’t even know if
they saw me.”

“As long as you don’t hear alarms
and sirens, we’re okay. Don’t worry. All’s not lost,” said Edgar while nimbly
typing away at the keyboard, his eyes dancing from side to side in front of the
bright screen. “I’m going to try something I created a while ago, to see if it
works. Remember, when you leave, don’t take the elevator. Use the stairs.”

Sweat rolled down Lorenzo’s face
and he had to open his mouth to get enough oxygen to his lungs.

“Edgar, what do I do? I feel like
I’m suffocating,” asked Lorenzo while touching his neck.

An ear-to-ear smile broke out on
Edgar’s face.

“I’ve got it. It worked,” Edgar
informed him, pleased.

“What?” asked Lorenzo quietly.

“I connected to the security
camera’s video signal. I’m looking at what they’re looking at. They can only
see six cameras at a time, perfect. When your area turns off, it’s time to get
a move-on. Wait for my signal,” Edgar instructed.

“But how the
heck
did you do
that?” asked Lorenzo in disbelief.

“Don’t ask,” Edgar answered
elusively. “Okay, listen up. When I tell you to, take off running. Okay? Run
for your life because you won’t have much time.”

“How much time?”

“Just enough. You have to run
toward the hallway, take the first left, then the second right, and right again
toward the back, right door. Got it?”

“Umm…I think so…did you say the
second…?”

“Now, run!” cut in Edgar, shouting.

Lorenzo shot from the bathroom and
turned at the first left he found, running smack into the wall since the
polished floors caused him to slip. He kept going in the half-light between the
cubicles in the office’s main area. He took the second right and then the next
right until he reached a door at the back, which he tried to open
unsuccessfully.

“Did you get in yet? They’re about
to change. Move or they’re going to see you,” warned Edgar with his eyes locked
on the screen.

Lorenzo desperately searched his
pockets until he found the key. His hands were shaking so much that it took him
until the third attempt to get the key in the lock and let himself in. At the
moment he stumbled into the office and closed the door, the camera that passed
directly over that area turned on. Edgar breathed a sigh of relief.

“Just in time. We’re okay. You
scared me, man,” said Edgar, gasping for breath.

“
I
scared
you
?” asked
Lorenzo dryly. “Okay, I’m going to the computer.”

Lorenzo pulled out the chair and
sat down at the desk. He pressed the necessary buttons on the computer tower
and monitor to turn them on. Oddly enough, that simple and familiar step gave
Lorenzo a moment of relaxation. Relaxation that lasted just that long, one
moment.

Below, in the main entrance, a
woman knocked repeatedly on the door’s glass windowpane. García, the guard,
smiled when he heard the expected drumming. As if he had been seated in his
chair for decades, he strained to get up and headed slowly toward the door.
Once he opened it, he greeted the woman and handed her the money as she passed
him three plastic bags filled with food.

“Enjoy and have a good evening,”
said the woman, waving goodbye. The guard returned the wave and went back to
the reception desk in better spirits, where he grabbed a walkie-talkie.

“Colón, the food’s here,” he
reported into the radio, smiling. “Come down before it gets cold.”

“I’m on my way. I’ve just got the
fourth floor left,” answered Colón, who was making his round on the third
floor.

“Come down now and finish later,”
insisted the guard at the reception.

“No,
amigo
, that’s what
you
want. I’m not going up again. It’s your turn next round,” answered Colón while
shining his flashlight around the inside of an office with glass windows and
the curtains drawn.

When he heard the second guard on
the monitor, Edgar felt as if he had been injected with a frozen fluid.

“Oh, no,” Edgar muttered to himself
but loudly enough for Lorenzo to hear.

“What happened?” asked Lorenzo
immediately.

“An additional guard making his
round. He’s on the third floor. Calm down,” explained Edgar, forcing himself to
remain calm.

“I am calm. The only thing I feel
is overheated and my heart beating too quickly,” responded Lorenzo.