Hungry Ghosts

by Peggy Blair

  Ramirez considered this. “Well, maybe not. Detective Espinoza said it was Adam Neville’s wife who arranged the car rentals.” He quickly scanned through the fax pages. “Denise Labelle. She rented a red Peugeot on February 12 in Pinar del Río, but she hasn’t returned it. ” He looked at Apiro, raising his eyebrows. “Labelle? That’s a French name, isn’t it?”

  “Those apples came from Quebec,” said Apiro. “Maybe that clue wasn’t only meant to refer to snow.”

  Ramirez grabbed the phone and called Charlie Pike’s cell number. After a few rings, Pike picked up. The line was brittle with static.

  “Hey, Rick. How are you? Sorry, my phone’s not working all that well. I’m up north at the moment.”

  Ramirez explained what he’d found.

  “Denise Labelle?” said Pike. “Sure, that’s Adam Neville’s wife. She kept her last name. Married women have to do that in Quebec; it’s the law.”

  “You know, Charlie, maybe it wasn’t the husband who committed these crimes,” said Ramirez. “It could have been the wife. Perhaps that’s why he tried to frame someone in Canada for a similar crime. Not to protect himself, but to create an alibi for her.”

  “Well, Denise knows how to process evidence. She used to work in a crime lab, but she’s been off for quite a while on disability. Adam told me that she’s back to normal now, though. Worth checking into, for sure. I’ll call the Winnipeg City Police; get someone to go over to their home and pick her up for questioning.” A pause on the end of the line. “Oh, shit, Rick. Denise Labelle isn’t in Canada right now. Adam told me she’s off mountain climbing somewhere in South America. In Pinar del Mar, I think he said.”

  “That’s not in South America,” said Ramirez. “That’s here in Cuba.”

  63

  Maria Vasquez waited outside the hotel for her client. A burly security guard walked towards her, about to tell her to move on when her client came out through the revolving glass doors.

  “Now, you leave her alone, she’s waiting for me,” Denise Labelle said, wagging her finger at him. The security guard shook his head and sidled away.

  “I’ve rented a car,” she said to Maria. “A day at the zoo. Doesn’t that sound grand?”

  “Are you able to spend that long on your feet?” asked Maria, looking at the woman’s cane.

  “You mean this?” said Labelle. “Don’t worry; I’ll be fine. Here, I brought something for you. All the way from home.” She handed Maria a large plastic bag.

  “But this is lovely,” said Maria, pulling out a pink leather purse from inside the bag. She folded the plastic bag carefully; they were hard to find. “Really, you shouldn’t have.” She admired the purse in the reflection of the hotel window, shifting the handle to her shoulder. “It’s so hard to get nice purses here.”

  They walked slowly to the parking lot across from the hotel. Labelle pointed to her rental car, a red Peugeot. She opened the door and tossed her cane in the back seat along with a paper bag.

  “Look inside,” Labelle said, smiling. She climbed into the driver’s seat and put the key in the ignition. “I got some other things for you too, from the duty-free shop at the airport.”

  Maria got in and pulled the door closed. She opened the purse. Inside was a gold compact with a small mirror, as well as a lipstick, condoms, and a pack of cigarettes, Parliament brand.

  “The lipstick’s your shade of pink. I remember you telling me how hard it is to get lipstick here.”

  “Gracias,” said Maria. “It’s a beautiful colour.” She turned the lipstick to look at the name on the bottom. Last Tango.

  “Lovely,” said Labelle. “You’ll look absolutely lovely when I take your picture.”

  “It used to be a wonderful zoo,” said Maria, as Labelle paid the admission price of two tourist pesos each. “Many of the animals live the way they do in the wild. They’re not caged up.”

  They walked past dilapidated concession stands, most deserted. Some children swung on noisy metal swings. A peacock scrawed nearby, holding its bright plumage upright like a woman’s fan. “That’s a male,” said Maria. “The females are brown and quite plain. He’s showing off.”

  “Men,” said Labelle. She laughed. “We should sit somewhere and have a bite to eat. I had the hotel make a lunch for us. It’s in the paper bag.”

  They walked slowly past the enclosure for the rhinoceroses, looking for a place to sit. Labelle leaned heavily on Maria’s arm, picking her way carefully with the cane. They found a wooden bench overlooking the island built for monkeys. Across from them was a lion pit with huge rocks. A scrawny lion perched on top of one, carefully watching an ibis graze in a field on the other side of the fence.

  “It seems so cruel,” said Labelle. “To keep a predator trapped like that. Letting him see his prey every day but not letting him kill it.”

  “I’m sure they’re reasonably well fed,” said Maria. “Probably better than we are at times.”

  Labelle shook her head sadly. “It’s not the same.”

  They ate the sandwiches the hotel had provided, drank the juice, finished the pears. “They call this variety Clapp in North America,” said Labelle. “They’re delicious, aren’t they? The hotel got them this morning; I always check to see if they have fresh fruit from home.”

  They began their tour. A notice on an exhibit in the birdhouse explained that some of the more unique species couldn’t be bred with birds at other zoos because of disease.

  “There are only a few Cuban parakeets left,” said Maria. “I hate to see endangered species. It’s so sad.”

  “My family’s like that,” said Labelle. “I’m the last of the line. I was an only child. My mother and father died years ago. They didn’t have any brothers or sisters, so that’s it. When I’m dead, there won’t be any more Labelles.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” said Maria. “But you’re married, yes?”

  “It’s just the two of us.”

  “You don’t have any children?”

  “Oh, no,” said Labelle. “My husband . . .” She sighed. “It’s hard to explain, but you’ve been so kind to me. I feel like I can tell you anything. We’ve had our problems.” She fell silent for a moment.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” said Maria, taking her hand.

  “We used to have a wonderful relationship.” Labelle lowered her voice. “And a really great sex life too.” She looked around to make sure no one overheard. “He liked me to get dressed up. Put on stockings, high heels. Sometimes I’d pretend to be a French maid, or he’d be the pizza delivery man. Having fun, you know? The sex was fantastic. And then I got pregnant.”

  They walked to the snake house and stopped to examine the python cage. The giant snake watched them, lazily flicking its tongue.

  “I didn’t know it, but I had chlamydia. You’ve heard of it? It’s a sexually transmitted disease. One of the bad ones. But sometimes there are no symptoms. That was the case with me. I ended up with an ectopic pregnancy. That’s when the baby develops outside the uterus. It almost killed me, the internal hemorrhaging. I had a blood clot. It caused a stroke. I’m still recovering from it. That’s why I have to use this cane to get around. And of course the pregnancy was over. We can never have children.”

  “Oh my,” said Maria. “That sounds so terrible. But how . . . ?”

  “The chlamydia? My husband gave it to me. He didn’t know he had it either. Some doctor.” She laughed, but there was no humour in her voice. “And that’s not the worst thing he did.”

  Maria said nothing, not sure how to respond.

  “I found out he was sleeping with prostitutes,” said Labelle. “That’s how he got infected. Here I was, trying so hard to live up to his sexual fantasies, and he was acting them out for real.”

  “But you stayed with him.”

  “Of course,” said Labelle. “I lo
ve Adam. He’s the most exciting man I’ve ever known. We met mountain climbing, you know. I . . .” She hesitated. “We used to love climbing together. The rush. There are only a limited number of ways to get that kind of high. He was here with me a few weeks ago. I wanted him to stay. But he said he had to go back to work. I didn’t believe him.”

  “You don’t blame him for what happened to you?”

  “No,” she said bitterly. “I blame them.”

  To get back to the city, they took Airport Road.

  “I’m sorry, Maria,” Labelle said suddenly, “I have to stop and pee. Can I go into the woods? Is it safe here?”

  “Of course,” said Maria.

  Labelle parked. She stepped out, stretched, and retrieved her metal cane from the back seat of the car. She opened her purse and removed a metal-pronged tip that she screwed to the end.

  “It’s an ice tip. I used to use it when I was climbing. I find it helps me walk a little better when the surface is uneven. Can you come with me? Keep an eye out to make sure no one sees me? Sometimes I need a little help.”

  “Of course,” said Maria. She stepped out of the car.

  “I don’t suppose you have any toilet paper with you?”

  Maria shook her head. “It’s hard to get here.”

  “Well, I guess I can use one of these, then. Damn. I don’t have many left.”

  Labelle reached into her purse and pulled out a nylon stocking. A black one, Maria noticed. With a long seam that ran down the back.

  “You’re not limping anymore,” said Maria, as they walked into the woods. The hair on the back of her neck stood up when she saw the yellow caution tape strung between the trees.

  A new purse, a brand new lipstick, nylons. Hector had warned her to be careful, but she never expected the killer to be a woman. Maria cast her eyes desperately searching for help. But no one could see them in the trees; they were too far from the road.

  “I’m sorry, Denise. I forgot something in the car. I’ll be right back.”

  Labelle prodded her in the side with the needle-sharp tip of the cane. “You do what I tell you, or I’ll stick you like a pig. I’ll end your life right here, I swear to God.”

  Maria looked around frantically.

  “No, I’m not limping anymore,” said Labelle. “I lied. I recovered. But it’s your fault I’ll never have children. For a few dollars, a lipstick, a pair of pantyhose, you stupid, careless bitches will spread your legs for anyone. No one uses protection in this goddamn country. The girls here are like the whores in Canada. They kiss, they use their tongues.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’m clean. I’m always careful with my clients. I live with a doctor.”

  “My own husband won’t have sex with me now, not even with condoms. Doesn’t matter what I do. I can tart myself up and he won’t even look at me. See these stockings? I ordered them all the way from England, trying to look sexy. The only women he has sex with now are women like you.”

  “I’m sorry that this happened to you. But the problems in your marriage have nothing to do with me.”

  “They have everything to do with you. Keep walking.”

  Labelle prodded Maria sharply with the cane, forcing her deeper under the forest canopy.

  “You don’t understand; you have this all wrong.”

  “You’re a whore, just like the others. Women like you ruined my life.”

  “But I’ve never met your husband. Trust me, I pose no threat to you. I’m not like other women, believe me.”

  “Don’t think you can charm your way out of this.”

  She pushed Maria again as they entered the clearing. “My husband is so fucking stupid. He’s a medical examiner. He investigates murders all the time. He’s been at every one of my crime scenes. I thought that was one way we could spend time together, if he was going to claim he had to work every night. I left clues. They were all dark-skinned women, the women I killed, and it’s light powder in the compacts I left behind. You think he would have noticed it was chalk.”

  “Chalk?”

  “For mountain climbing. We use it on our fingers to get a good grip. I don’t know how many times he’d come home from an autopsy and tell me what he found, and he still didn’t realize it was me. He’d even show me the photographs from the crime scenes. I thought for sure he’d figure it out when we got to Cuba and I did it again, but there was nothing in the goddamned media about the deaths. Then I realized it didn’t matter. I wasn’t doing it for him anymore. I was doing it for me. We’re here. Get down on the ground.”

  “No. You’ll kill me.”

  “I’ll kill you right now if you don’t.”

  Maria looked around for a weapon. There were no broken tree limbs, no sticks, no twigs. There was nothing in the purse that she could use. She couldn’t defend herself with lipstick or condoms and the purse wasn’t heavy enough to make a dent. She’d made the mistake of wearing sandals for the long walk around the zoo instead of her usual stilettos.

  “Please don’t do this,” she begged. “You are making a terrible mistake.”

  “You stupid bitch,” Labelle said and pushed Maria down. She put her full weight on Maria’s back, then wrapped her arm tightly around her throat.

  64

  “But Ricardo,” said Apiro, hopping off his chair. “Denise. That is the name of Maria’s friend, the Canadian woman who is going to the zoo with her today.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Apiro’s eyes widened. “She’s been giving Maria presents all week.”

  “Hector, Maria could be in real danger. Does she have a cell phone?”

  “An illegal one, yes, of course.” Apiro dialed the number. “There’s no answer. Ricardo, those two women who were murdered were found not far from the zoo.”

  “Then let’s get going.”

  Apiro ran behind Ramirez down the stairs, his short legs pumping as they headed to the parking lot. Ramirez jumped in his car and started the ignition. Apiro strapped himself in. “Please, drive quickly, Ricardo. As fast as you can.”

  They raced down Airport Road, dodging cars, bikes, stray dogs. Ramirez swerved to avoid hitting a man pushing a cart full of watermelons across the highway.

  “Will she take Maria back to the same place?” asked Apiro.

  “I hope so,” said Ramirez. “If she doesn’t, they could be anywhere.”

  “There’s the Peugeot,” Apiro said, pointing to a red car parked on the shoulder. “Look at the plate.” The maroon plate had a “T” for turista. “Quick, stop the car.”

  Ramirez skidded to a halt. He and Apiro jumped out and cautiously approached the rental car. Ramirez removed his gun from his shoulder holster. He peered inside, but the vehicle was empty.

  “That’s Maria’s tote bag on the back seat,” Apiro said, his voice tight with stress.

  “They must be in the woods. Wait here, Hector. We have no idea what kind of weapon this woman may have, but we know she’s extremely dangerous.”

  “Believe me, so am I right now,” said Apiro. “I’m going with you.”

  They entered the woods slowly. Ramirez held his gun out as they approached the yellow caution tape, steadying it with both hands. What happened next ended in seconds, but Ramirez would replay it later in his mind like the museum surveillance tape, rewinding the images over and over.

  Maria lay on her stomach beneath the blue mahoe trees. A woman straddled her body, her forearm pulled tight around Maria’s throat. A metal cane rested beside Maria’s limp body.

  Apiro ran forward and lunged for the cane. He grabbed it just as the woman looked up, before Ramirez could stop him. He swung the cane in an arc. It made a sickening thud as it connected with the side of the woman’s head.

  “Hector, you’ll kill her! Don’t hit her again,” Ramirez shouted, jamming his gun in his holster and running for
ward. It took all his strength to pry the cane from Apiro’s fingers. But afterwards he wondered if he should have stopped him at all.

  65

  They sat in the dingy hallway of the emergency room at the hospital. The fluorescent lights flickered. Apiro looked deflated, even smaller than unusual. “First, do no harm. That’s the oath I took, Ricardo.” He held his large head in his hands, tears in his eyes. “I was so angry. I wanted to kill her. I fractured her skull.”

  “I would have done the same thing if it was Francesca lying on the ground, my friend, believe me,” said Ramirez.

  “If I had hit her again, she would have died.”

  “But you didn’t, and she didn’t. And Maria’s alive. That’s all that matters.”

  “I suppose you’ll have to charge me with aggravated assault or attempted murder. How long will I spend in jail?”

  “For what?” said Ramirez. He put his hand on Apiro’s shoulder. “The prisoner is unsteady on her feet. She needs a cane. She fell as she was getting into my car to accompany us to headquarters for questioning. She hit her head on the road. It happens.”

  “I can’t falsify a medical report, Ricardo. You know that.”

  “You don’t have to, Hector.” Ramirez smiled. “I can. Besides, that’s the story I’ve already told the emergency physician. I should at least be consistent. Believe me, no one will contradict it, not when it comes to a cold-blooded killer like this one.”

  Ramirez gave his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. “Detective Espinoza radioed me a few minutes ago. They found nothing incriminating in the rental car, but Señora Labelle had a digital camera in her purse with photographs of LaNeva Otero. They’re searching her hotel room right now. Espinoza says they’ve found another purse there as well. He is going to see if Juan Otero recognizes it. I think Denise Labelle gave each of her victims a new purse and took theirs as souvenirs. You were right. It wasn’t only what she left behind at the crime scenes that was important, but also what she removed.”