MD05 - The Confession

by Sheldon Siegel

  “Alleged relationship.”

  “Whatever. Did you wish to comment?”

  “Yes. The accusation that Father Aguirre was romantically involved with Ms. Concepcion before her death is completely false.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  Yes. “I’m saying that your source is either mistaken or lying and that a good journalist like yourself would have double-checked a story that is so obviously false.”

  Chapter 23

  “God Never Gives Us More Than We Can Handle”

  “There is nothing more painful than burying a child.”

  — Father Ramon Aguirre.

  Rosie’s voice is barely a whisper as she addresses Concepcion’s mother. “Thank you so much for seeing us,” she says.

  “You’re welcome, Ms. Fernandez.”

  “It’s Rosie.”

  She clutches her tissue tighter and says, “I’m Lita.”

  It’s only ten-thirty, but it’s been a busy morning. We held an impromptu press conference in front of the El Faro to rebut Jerry Edwards’s claim that Ramon was sleeping with Lita’s daughter and to ask for help finding witnesses who were on Capp Street last Monday night. Things got heated when Edwards showed up and accused us of lying. We didn’t back down and the situation quickly degenerated into the legal profession’s version of mud wrestling. It was great theater and will be the lead story on the news tonight. We spent a few minutes with Ramon, then we made a beeline over here. My head is throbbing from sleep deprivation. A triple dose of Extra-Strength Advil will be a part of my daily routine until this case is over.

  We’re meeting in Lita’s tidy apartment in a nondescript two-story building on Valencia, not far from Mission Dolores. She’s at least ten years younger than Sylvia, but considerably more frail, and there’s a slight quiver in her high-pitched voice. She’s wearing a polka dot house dress and a pair of Reeboks as she’s sitting in an embroidered armchair in a living room that makes Sylvia’s look spacious. The two-bedroom apartment could use a coat of paint, but our fastidious host shares Sylvia’s view about upgrades. Her daughter’s high school graduation photo is prominently displayed on the mantle and a single candle is burning on the kitchen table.

  “I know this must be very difficult for you,” Rosie says.

  “It is.” There is a sense of grave purpose in her eyes when she tells us she wants to find out what happened to her daughter. “She was everything to me.”

  The pained expression on Rosie’s face indicates to me that she’s thinking about Grace. She bites her lip and says, “How long have you lived here?”

  “We moved here shortly after Maria was born.” Her husband was a maintenance worker for MUNI who died almost twenty years ago. She glances at the same photo of her son that I saw in Maria’s apartment. “It was difficult enough to bury our son. I never imagined that I would have to bury both of our children.”

  In the course of defending accused murderers, we sometimes forget that the lives of the families of the victims are changed forever. All of the lines I practiced at the seminary for occasions such as this seem to ring hollow, but I go with an old standby. “I’m so sorry, Lita. This apartment must have a lot of memories for you.”

  “It does.” She bravely tries to sound philosophical. “My husband used to say that God never gives us more than we can handle.”

  It’s a kind sentiment, but it garnered mixed results when I used it in my priest days.

  She adds, “I suspect he may have reconsidered his view if he had lived a few more years.”

  No doubt. We sit in silence for a long moment before Rosie says, “Tell us about Maria.”

  Lita dabs at her eyes and says, “She was beautiful, sensitive and intelligent.” She fills in the details of her daughter’s tenure at the Shanahan firm and her relationship with her ex-husband. “Dennis likes to collect things: antiques, money, guns and women. I think he viewed Maria as another trophy.” She swallows hard and says, “He cheated on her from the beginning of their marriage and she filed for divorce only two years later. She’d signed a one-sided prenuptial agreement and learned some hard lessons. That’s when she decided to move back to the neighborhood and to help the community.”

  She says things became more strained when Maria and her ex ended up on opposite sides of several legal battles. “Their personal animosity added to the tension and her faith helped her through the most difficult times. St. Peter’s was her anchor and she attended mass regularly. She was terribly uncomfortable about suing the Church, but she believed that somebody had to represent the people who had been abused by the priests.”

  Rosie eases her into another sensitive topic. “We understand your daughter was seeing a man named Eduardo Lopez.”

  The mention of his name brings a noticeable cringe and a terse response. “It didn’t work out.”

  Rosie has to push forward. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  Lita chooses her words carefully. “I’ve known Eduardo since he was an altar boy at St. Peter’s. I was troubled that Maria was seeing a married man–especially one who was so much older than she was. It was even more difficult because I’ve known Eduardo’s wife for years.”

  This created a rather delicate situation. “How did she feel about it?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her since Maria started seeing her husband. In addition to everything else, I lost a friend.”

  Rosie asks her if she talked to her daughter about her relationship with Lopez.

  “A little. I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea, but young people don’t always listen to reason. Maria was certain he was going to leave Vicky to marry her. She wanted things to work out so badly she didn’t see the warning signs.”

  “So she ignored your advice?”

  Lita sighs. “You want the best for your children, but she was capable of making decisions for herself. She was desperate to have a child and she thought Eduardo wanted to start a family with her. She was wrong.” The sadness in her tone turns to barely-containable anger when she says, “People like Eduardo think they can make up for their behavior by donating money to the Church and building housing for the poor. I think it’s admirable that he’s given back to the community, but I still believe Jesus looks at your character after you die and adds up the debits and the credits. If you’re evil, you can’t make up for it by donating money to charity.”

  That’s the way they taught it at the seminary.

  Rosie asks if Maria broke up with him.

  “Just as soon as she was convinced that he wasn’t going to leave his wife. She was devastated. It became even more difficult when she found out Eduardo had been seeing another woman while he was going out with Maria.”

  This is news. Any lingering doubts that I have about Lopez’s character have now been erased. I ask, “Do you know the other woman’s name?”

  “Mercedes Trujillo. She’s a hostess at the restaurant.”

  It’s an example of the classic adage–if they cheat with you, they’ll cheat on you.

  “Evidently,” she says, “Maria made quite a scene at the restaurant after she found out.”

  “Is Ms. Trujillo still seeing Mr. Lopez?”

  “No.”

  “Is she still working at the restaurant?”

  “As far as I know.”

  You have to pay the bills.

  Rosie touches Lita’s hand and says, “When was the last time you talked to Maria?”

  “I left her apartment at six o’clock and I spoke to her by phone around seven-thirty.” She says her daughter was in good spirits. “She was going to have a session with Father Aguirre. She was very fond of him and the counseling seemed to be helping.”

  It seems like an inappropriate time to ask if they were sleeping together.

  “How well do you know him?” Rosie asks.

  “He’s been our priest for a long time.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  There is no quiver in her voice when she says, “Absolutely.�
��

  “We understand that he and Maria once dated for awhile.”

  “They did. It was a long time ago and I was hoping they would stay together, but it didn’t work out. She wanted to go to law school and start a career.”

  “Do you think she ever regretted her decision?”

  “From time to time.”

  “Do you think Father Aguirre has regrets?”

  “We’ve never talked about it.”

  Rosie gently explains that there have been suggestions that Ramon and Maria still had feelings for each other.

  “I read about it in this morning’s paper,” Lita says. “Father Aguirre is a principled man. If I thought he had been engaging in immoral behavior, I wouldn’t have asked him to officiate at Maria’s funeral. I don’t believe he and Maria were romantically involved, and I think it’s disrespectful to her memory and his reputation to suggest it.”

  This helps. Rosie asks her if she would be willing to testify to that effect.

  “I’ll have to think about it.”

  Rosie measures her words carefully as she turns to a final sensitive issue. “We understand that your daughter was taking anti-depressants.”

  “They seemed to be helping.”

  “There is some evidence that Maria may have taken her own life.”

  Lita Concepcion gives Rosie a hard look and doesn’t parse. “Maria was a fighter,” she says. “She did not commit suicide.”

  Chapter 24

  “Eduardo is a Cheating Asshole”

  “It is with great pleasure that I present this community service award to Eduardo Lopez for his fine efforts on behalf of Mission District residents. He sets an excellent example for his neighbors and is to be highly commended.”

  — The Mayor of San Francisco.

  Lopez’s soon-to-be-ex-wife is considerably less diplomatic than Concepcion’s mother when the subject turns to her husband’s shortcomings. “Eduardo is a cheating asshole,” she says.

  I’m glad she doesn’t feel compelled to sugarcoat her feelings.

  We’re sitting at a table near the window of the trendy Ti Couz creperie on Sixteenth, between Guerrero and Valencia, down the street from Mission Dolores in the gentrified corner of the Mission. The early lunch crowd of yuppies and Gen-Xers mingle comfortably at the cheerful wooden tables, and the sweet smell of fresh crepes meanders through the inviting room that looks as if it was transported directly from a village in Brittany. If you walk two blocks down to the BART station, you’ll find junkies shooting up and hookers plying their trade in broad daylight. The Mission caters to many constituencies.

  Victoria Clemente Lopez isn’t a waif-thin beauty, but the successful designer of upscale clothing carries herself with style and a feisty self-confidence that has its own charged appeal. Eduardo may be debonair, but Vicky has charisma. She runs a fashionable boutique at Twenty-fourth and Noe, about a mile from here. Her broad shoulders and toned muscles indicate some serious gym time, and you’d have to look closely at the corners of her Botoxed eyes to notice the remnants of the crow’s feet. I’d guess she’s in her mid-fifties from the dyed black hair and the hints of a second chin that’s been surgically modified, but it’s hard to tell. She appears comfortable in tight leather pants and a modest cotton blouse that is fighting a reasonably successful battle to control her ample bosom.

  Rosie tries for an offhand tone when she asks how long she’s been married.

  “Twenty-seven years. I was working as a hostess at the restaurant when we met.”

  So is Mercedes Trujillo.

  Vicky gives us a quick rundown on their four children and nine grandchildren. “Our youngest daughter is expecting twins in March. Eduardo and I need to work out some arrangements to see our grandchildren.”

  Rosie lowers her voice and says, “Forgive me for asking some personal questions–”

  “You’re just doing your job. After everything Eduardo has put me through, I don’t have any secrets.”

  “How long were you married before your husband started . . . straying?”

  “I’d guess about two weeks. Eduardo has always tried to portray himself as a family man who doted on his children, but it was all a lie. I knew that running a restaurant required him to keep late hours, but I ignored the signs for years.” Her inflection turns decidedly bitter when she says, “Maybe I was naive or stupid, but I feel like I did this to myself.”

  “You shouldn’t blame yourself,” Rosie says. She casts a scornful look in my direction and says, “A lot of men are pigs.”

  It distresses me to be lumped in with the Neanderthals, but I take one for the team and keep my mouth shut.

  Vicky appreciates the sentiment and says, “I’ve accepted the fact that it would be best for our children and grandchildren if Eduardo and I remain on reasonably civil terms. I have a business to run and I’d like to get on with my life.” She gives us a wicked smile and adds, “I wouldn’t mind taking him to the cleaners for every penny I can get.”

  Go for it.

  She says their divorce settlement is almost final. “My barracuda is in negotiations with his shark. With a little luck, we should have everything divided up by the end of the year. He’ll get the restaurant and I’ll keep my business. I’ll get the house and we’ll each get a car. Everything else will be split fifty-fifty.”

  Rosie treads into choppier water. “How did you find out that your husband was seeing Ms. Concepcion?”

  “A couple of my friends told me about it. I was skeptical, but Eduardo didn’t come home for four nights running. That’s when I hired a private investigator.” She says it took Nick the Dick only one day to catch her husband in bed with Concepcion at a Union Square Hotel. “That’s when I hired a lawyer.”

  Rosie turns to another subject. “We understand some questions have been raised about your husband’s business dealings.”

  “I’d say he’s as honest in business as he is in his personal relationships. He has friends down at City Hall who help him get approvals for his projects.”

  “Has he ever done anything illegal?”

  “He’s never been caught.”

  Hardly a ringing endorsement. Rosie asks, “How does he react when he’s angry?”

  “Are you asking if he ever hit me?”

  “Yes.”

  Vicky pauses to consider the ramifications of her answer. She can do irreparable damage to his reputation by accusing him of anything from wife-beating to child molestation, whether or not the allegations are true. She opts for a frank tone and provides what I surmise is an honest response. “My husband is a manipulator and a cheat,” she says, “but he also has shown many moments of great kindness and generosity, and he never laid a hand on me.”

  This is good for her health, but it doesn’t enhance his status as a suspect.

  Rosie lays it on the line. “Do you think there is any possibility he may have been involved with Ms. Concepcion’s death?”

  There is no hesitation this time. “No, but he was upset that they split up. To Eduardo, a good lay is still a good lay.”

  How delicate. We can add another notch to his belt, but we still have no evidence that he was violent or that he was anywhere near Concepcion’s apartment on the night she died.

  “I have to ask you where you were last Monday night,” Rosie says.

  “At my store.”

  “Until what time?”

  “Around twelve-thirty. I was working on some designs for next year’s line.”

  It’s the same time her husband left work. I’m not big on conspiracy theories, but it can’t hurt to probe. Rosie asks, “Was anybody else there with you?”

  In other words, can anybody corroborate your alibi?

  “I was by myself. I spoke to my husband briefly around eight. We were trying to set up a time to get together with our lawyers to finalize our settlement. There were no other calls.”

  Which means nobody can confirm her whereabouts that night.

  She sees where we’re going an
d takes the offensive. “I don’t appreciate what you’re implying,” she says. “You’re trying to portray me as the angry ex-wife.”

  “We’re trying to rule you out as a suspect,” Rosie says.

  Which means we’re also trying to rule her in as a suspect.

  Rosie asks, “Were you anywhere in the vicinity of Ms. Concepcion’s apartment that night?”