“Joy lifts weights.”
That night, while the Sentra was stuck along Quezon Avenue like a bug on flypaper, Tuason’s eyes strayed to the flashing lights from honky-tonk bars competing with neon signs of fastfood joints that offered cholesterol-laden parodies of food. She could not help but think of Sheena’s scarred thighs. She thought of the officemates’ glowing recollection of the person she was, and then of Annie’s disgust. Are the parts always equal to the whole? Even in her own life, there were parts that were not adding up. She sighed and stared at the Quezon Memorial aglow with light in the traffic haze. The three crying angels atop the pylon must be mourning what had become of the city, she thought. Meant to be a city of parks, where the common man will find his place with dignity, Quezon City now hosts one of the largest squatter colonies in the country. When Tuason reached Commonwealth Avenue, traffic was still at a crawl. She impulsively turned right on University Avenue, enjoyed the burst of speed toward the Oblation, then turned to the Oval where night owls were jogging. She parked curbside and sat on a stone bench, lotus position. She started to breath rhythmically, focusing her thoughts on her breathing.
Joy Fuentes’ house was in one of the gated subdivisions near Araneta Avenue, just a short distance from a shanty colony. It was also suspiciously close to the crime scene. The house, more like a baby mansion, was protected by a concrete fence two meters high and a steel plate gate. A uniformed guard ensconced in a guardhouse built into the thick fence scrutinized their badges. After some intercom exchanges with the main house, he allowed them in. There were CCTV cameras at the entrance and the grand main door as well as other strategic places around the spacious lawn lush with bromeliads, palm trees, and manicured ficus trees. It was like entering a fort. A maid in a checkered pink and white uniform led them to the study. Its shelves were filled with books from the classics to popular novels to self-help and business publications, accented with trophies and vases. On the side tables were family pictures in gleaming silver frames.
Joy was waiting for them in the study. Tuason did a double take. She was a slimmer, prettier version of Sheena. Natural brows shaped like bent twigs along with high cheekbones made her look regal even in just a plain white T-shirt and denim shorts. Her cushiony lips were devoid of lipstick. Gold streaks without black roots highlighted her shoulder-length hair. The resemblance was uncanny, except that Joy had the taut body of an athlete. It was as if Joy was the ideal aspired to by Sheena.
Joy motioned for them to sit on a leather couch. Then she sat on a wing chair and tucked her long unblemished legs beneath her. She looked surprised to learn of Sheena’s death. “Sorry to hear that, but I never really knew her.”
“You worked in the same company. Came from the same school.” Tuason was looking at her closely, looking for tells of a lie.
“We had different groups of friends in school. And at the office, I tried to keep out of her way.” She took a deep breath. “She had been bad-mouthing me, saying I’ve had things easy because of my father’s connections, even hinting that I slept around.”
“How did you feel about it?”
“I used to get upset.” She balled her hands to fists. “But then, talo ang pikon, right? So I just ignored her. As the saying goes, you can’t control how others act. Only how you act.”
A maid set a tray of iced tea and pastries on the coffee table. “One of the perks of living with parents.” Joy smiled. “Food on telepathic demand. You must try the carrot cupcakes. They’re my mom’s specialty. The empanaditas are nice too.”
Tuason took a refreshing sip of the iced tea. Pandan. “So what actions did you take?”
“I gave her what she wanted.”
“And what was that?”
“Sam. She wanted Sam. All that talk about me getting those cushy assignments and big clients, it all started when Sam and I, well, when he became my boyfriend. Here, she sent me this.” She showed Tuason and Joshua her cellphone. On the screen was a half-naked picture of a good looking man with a six pack and broad shoulders. The caption was “Yummy”. “When I confronted Sam, he said Sheena was just making trouble and that she had sent him a naked picture of herself. I wanted to go to HR about it, but then I figured, it would only make matters worse.
“So what happened next?”
“I broke it off. I realized it was too much trouble to be his girlfriend.” She pinned her hair behind her ear. “So many girls and gays were after him, and he encouraged them.” She pursed her lips. “Some became aggressive. I can’t deal with all the drama.” She sighed. “But Sam insisted on seeing me. He said he was attending the anniversary party and we will patch things up. He was on the guest list, as a major client.”
“So it was a love triangle gone bad.”
“Not really. I no longer want to have anything to do with him. Honest.”
“Why do you keep that picture then?” Tuason pointed to Joy’s cellphone.
“He is yummy.” She giggled. Then turning serious, she added, “The charming bad boy image wears out pretty fast. Besides, we were never really alone. He always had these hangers on, specially this sidekick, Rex. That guy gives me the creeps.” She brushed her arms as if shaking off goosebumps. “I felt like I was just part of Sam’s entourage, you know, the girlfriend, the friends and the bodyguard. My mom’s novenas must have worked. She never really liked him. Said he was too flashy. And she didn’t like his family.”
“Why?”
“His parents aren’t married.”
“That’s still an issue in the twenty-first century?” Tuason wanted to ask. Instead, she said, “Still, you must have felt bad about the pictures that Sheena sent the two of you. And I heard she was after your accounts.”
She shook her head then took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “I never thought I’d be saying this, but Sheena actually did me a favor. She gave me an excuse to leave Silangan as abruptly as I had.”
“Where were you on Tuesday night between ten and twelve? We heard you walked out when you found out about the costume change.”
She smiled. “That was just for show. I intended to file my resignation the following day. I received a great offer from a multinational, but they wanted me to start right away. I’m starting tomorrow, would you believe? I wasn’t sure Silangan would let me go without a lengthy turnover process. HR can be a bitch. But Sheena’s antics were known even to HR and so they gave me an out. I should be thanking her. Besides, that thing gave me a reason not to attend the party and avoid Sam.”
Still unrelenting, Tuason said, “You didn’t answer my question about where you were on Tuesday between 10 and midnight.”
“I was here, detective. My parents can vouch for me. But you can also look at the CCTV footage. They’re time-stamped.”
Tuason slumped in her car. “I guess that leaves us with Sam Mendrez.”
“Seems like it.” Joshua tapped the CCTV tape. “I’ll run this again. But our initial viewing confirmed her alibi.” He frowned. “Strange. I had Joy pegged as someone who doesn’t get mad, but gets even.”
“Well, maybe by leaving, she did get even.” Tuason turned the ignition on. “Oh, and how are we doing with Sheena’s address? Her next of kin should be notified.”
“Sorry, no luck with HR. They said they don’t have anything on file. Can you believe that?” He shook his head. “I’ve been following up. They’re trying to contact their president. Dude is on vacation in Iceland and so far, can’t be contacted for the information, assuming he knows.”
“He must be busy gazing at the Aurora Borealis,” Tuason said.
Joshua clucked his tongue. “Don’t you wish we had all those gizmos they have on cop shows? If this were NCIS, we’d get Sheena’s address and what she ate for dinner in like a snap of the fingers. Sana the congressman will throw in some new crime detection gadgets soon.” Their congressman had donated some CCTV cameras and satellite phones to their district.
“Again with the NCIS. Have you not learned anything from working at the
station? Make up for our lack of gadgets by working smart. Analyze more. Work your informants.” Tuason cultivated informants to help in her investigations though she considered them necessary evils, just a breath above criminals. “As for the congressman, I’m not too optimistic about getting new gadgets. He has spent a lot of his pork barrel for his donation of CCTVs and satellite phones.”
“Why not? He seems really keen on this anti criminality drive. My vote wasn’t wasted.” Joshua grinned. “I’ve also been talking to our contacts. Neighbors from the last address we had, told the cops that Sheena had moved with no forwarding address. Even LTO was a bust. She doesn’t drive. I checked social media. Still no leads. But I’ll keep on looking. A bit difficult chasing someone without a police record.” Then he brightened up. “Which reminds me, this costume guy MAM, has a police record. He was picked up for disorderly conduct and assaulting a police officer a few years back. I have a feeling he wasn’t telling the whole truth. Do you mind swinging by La Fabulosa?”
MAM was out. While waiting for him, Joshua stepped out of the shop for a smoke. He spoke to a young maid who said that MAM left the house on the night of the murder, and did not return home till around dawn. He rushed inside to tell Tuason.
“So the driver and the older maid lied too.” Tuason said. They waited in silence at the reception area. She was deep in thought when MAM arrived. He was flustered when he saw them and upon insistent questioning, he finally admitted to lying about his alibi.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”
“Just tell us where you were.” Tuason said.
“I went to the adoration chapel. But this could not get around. It’s bad for my image.”
The guard at the adoration chapel confirmed that MAM was there late Tuesday night. He remembered because it was very late and MAM was the only visitor. The chapel rarely had visitors past 10:00 pm.
That night, the kickbag at the dojang took another powerful beating from Tuason.
Tuason and Joshua tracked Sam Mendrez at the Quezon City Sports Club. He had just finished with a set of tennis and was on his way to the showers, strutting as if he owned the whole place. He smiled appreciatively at Tuason. Joshua chuckled. Some things never change. Even past 30, his partner was still a looker.
Sam appeared surprised when they asked him about Sheena. Media had not yet gotten wind of the story.
“She was fine the last time I saw her,” he said with a hint of irritation. “Look, I have to hit the shower.” He started to rise.
“Sit,” Tuason said, her gray-green eyes turning to black. Reluctantly, Sam sat down.
“And when was that?” She asked, her voice now gentler.
“Let’s see, Tuesday night.”
“That’s the night she died.” Joshua said.
Sam fell silent.
“We heard she caused your break-up with your girlfriend Joy.” Tuason sounded sympathetic, almost like a friend commiserating after a break-up.
“That bitch, she sent us those damned naked pictures. As if I would be bothered with her. She’s fatter than my mother.” He snorted. “And then Joy, that uptight colegiala, she went all jealous and ballistic, screaming she didn’t want to see me anymore.” He wiped his brow, and then looked to his side, as if expecting someone to take the towel from him and fold it. With a frown, he flung the towel on the chair beside him.
“So where did you go after seeing Sheena?” Tuason tried to keep the anger out of her voice.
“I went to the bar. At least a dozen people saw me there.” His chin jutted out, as if issuing a challenge.
A young man with a gym bag, his hair wet from a shower was walking in their direction. “Hey, Jeric, come join us,” Sam called out. “Please tell the good detectives here where I was last Tuesday.” He spat out the word detectives contemptuously.
The young man stopped by their table, looked at Tuason then at Joshua, sizing them up. “He was at the club, officers.” Shifting his eyes to Sam, he said, “What’s up man?”
“Just some misunderstanding.”
“K, got to run.” He walked away.
“See, I told you. I was at the bar.” Sam smirked.
“Are you sure?” Tuason shoved a picture of Sheena towards him, all pretext at friendliness gone. He gulped, some of his bravado fading.
“Oh shit!” He said, his face a mixture of astonishment and fear. “Stupid, stupid!” Swiftly recovering his composure, he said, “I want a lawyer.”
Tuason wanted to cuff him, but she knew they did not have enough to arrest him.
“Being an asshole should be a punishable crime,” she said through gritted teeth. She stalked out of the club past its granite walls to the sweltering parking lot.
While Tuason was briefing CI Michael Christopher “Big Mac” Maquera, his phone rang. When he put the phone down, he folded his large hands and looked intently at Tuason. “That was the congressman’s office. His friend’s son, Samuel Mendrez complained about how you embarrassed him at the sports club.”
Tuason puffed her cheeks then blew out air. “We were just doing our job, Sir. He should be commending us. After all, he’s anti-crime, right?”
Big Mac’s bushy brows looked like mating caterpillars. “This is not a joke, Tuason. Be more circumspect next time. Remember, honey attracts more flies than vinegar.” What a wimpy thing to say, thought Tuason. Was her boss turning soft in his old age?
Instead of making Tuason back off from investigating Sam, the congressman’s phone call made her insist that they corroborate Sam’s alibi even more thoroughly than usual. She also remembered the remark about Joy’s mother not approving of Sam because of his parentage. She strode to Joshua’s desk.
“Anything on Sam Mendrez’ family?”
“You wouldn’t believe this,” Joshua said, eyes bright with mischief. “Sam Mendrez is the congressman’s love child. One of many.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, not a lot of people know about it, but my sources are reliable.”
“You think he knows?” She pointed her lips to Big Mac’s office.
“He must. They were school friends, right? Anyway, Sam’s mother is a lawyer who used to be on the congressman’s staff.”
“Oh, the ‘friend’,” she made air quotes. “Are you still glad you voted for him?”
“He’s macho, what can I say?”
After interviewing several privileged yuppies who partied hard mostly with their parents’ money, the investigators grudgingly conceded that Sam’s alibi was starting to look solid. One of the yuppies said he was sure Sam was there at around 10:00 pm because he arrived just as the DJ went on air, and he had given Sam a lift home at around 2:00 am. A comment alerted them. The yuppies all said it was strange that Rex wasn’t with Sam that Tuesday.
It took some digging to find Rex. Rex Batumbakal. He was Sam’s bodyguard/ driver. The address that Sam’s mother, Atty. Helen Mendrez had on file—a tiny apartment on Don Qixote St. off Espana—checked out. He shared the unit with seven other people. His housemates said he had gone home to Bulacan. They were not sure when he would be back, and were a bit worried about his share of the rent. Tuason called several of her contacts in Bulacan, till she found the right connections. A precinct in Valenzuela had Rex on file because he had applied to the precinct so many times. But he kept failing the Napolcom tests. He ended up as a driver for Sam’s family. Rex was a well- built man and a born mimic who easily blended in any surrounding beautifully. He had learned a few English phrases and said them with the right intonation and cockiness. “What’s up?” He could say flawlessly, or “Hey, just chill.” Without a hint of the singsong Bulacan accent he had been born with. Given the right clothes, he could pass as one of Sam’s friends, albeit the less moneyed ones. So he was assigned to be Sam’s driver/ bodyguard. Sam’s mother thought of her son as “kidnapable.” Rex relished the part, gleefully acting as if Sam’s aura had rubbed off on him.
Tuason and Joshua found him in a shack along the river. H
e stank of cheap alcohol. But in his hand me down Ralph Lauren shirt, he looked like a slightly tipsy and darkly handsome yuppie back from a night out. He denied ever seeing Sheena.
“Sheena who?”
“Sam’s friend in the Amidala gown.” Joshua said.
“How could I? I’ve been here for weeks.” He ran manicured fingers through close-cropped hair.
“Our informants place you at the scene of the crime.” Tuason said. Joshua studied his partner. She had not lost her knack for lying. But it was only fair. Rex had lied first.
“No, they’re lying.” He scratched his armpit. “There was nobody ar—” Then he suddenly clammed up, realizing his mistake.
“Nobody around, eh? So you were there. You lying coward. Your boss Sam is pinning everything on you.” Tuason’s voice was low but menacing.
Rex clamped his mouth and crossed his arms. He looked down at the filthy floor, as if his redemption lay there.
“Your boss Sam has lawyered up. Who do you think will take all the blame?” Tuason’s voice had turned calmer, almost sympathetic.
Rex hung his head even lower.
“Sam has reported his Patrol stolen. I’m guessing it’s parked behind those trees. We’ll find traces that Sheena had been there,” Joshua said.
Rex remained silent. Tuason made a show of releasing the clip on her holster, while piercing him with her eyes.
Rex looked from Tuason to Joshua. “It was Sam’s fault.”
“How so?”
“He asked me to get the girl in the red gown. Like the Queen in Star Wars. The girl seemed pleased and came with me excitedly. Honest.” He raised his right palm, like he was reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. “She threw away a half-finished cigarette and was practically skipping. She even held on to my arm saying that she might slip on her high heels.” He snickered. “I could feel her soft boobs. Then when Sam saw her, he went crazy. He cursed her. He called her a fake. A cow. He pushed her away, but she didn’t seem to mind. She kept trying to embrace him. Sam said, ‘Get away from me. I want Joy.’ He slapped her then finally knocked her out with a punch on the jaw.” Rex’s eyes hardened to black pebbles.
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