by Glen Carter
Malloy was a good man. Jack thought about the expression he despised every time it was spoken. Wrong place, wrong time.
Suddenly the curtain was yanked open. Jack swung around to see the scowling face of Dr. Winburn. It took her a few seconds to understand what she was looking at. “Damn reporters,” she hissed.
Jack tried to say something.
“I’m too busy, so don’t waste my time with your bullshit,” Winburn hissed. “You’re not permitted here.”
The two cops marched over. “This guy a problem?” Sneering, one of the officers grabbed his cuffs. “Sir, your hands where I can see them. Now!”
Jack held up his hands. “Wait a minute. I can explain.” Shit, he was going downtown. Kaitlin would have to post bail, and because she was up to her neck in deadlines, it would likely mean he’d be spending the better part of the evening in a jail cell. Unless.
The cop halted, one eye on Jack and the other on the doctor. There’d be a few seconds at the most before the cuffs were on.
Winburn smirked. “Well?”
“I’m here to identify the body.” Jack motioned towards the corpse under the sheet and then reached to his pocket. A stupid thing to do. Both cops drew their weapons.
“Down, boys,” Winburn said, too calmly. “Got enough bullet ridden bodies here without one more.”
Both cops stood down and then, carefully, Jack retrieved his cellphone. The line he was about to spin was full of crap and blatantly illogical. “Check my calls. Mercy Hospital is one of them. After I left the waiting room I got a call informing me the body of my friend would need to be identified.” Jack bit his lip and realized it was a duty he’d now have to perform. “I’ll need a moment first, if that’s okay.”
By the look on her face,Winburn was clearly buying none of it.
“Mr. Malloy is pre-deceased by his wife,” Jack continued. “Unfortunately there is no one else to confirm identity. Believe me, I wish I didn’t have to do it.” The cops were stone faced, waiting for their cue.
“Would you like to see your friend,Mr. Doyle?”
Jack felt a mix of relief and burden. “Let’s do this,” he replied.
Winburn marched past Jack to a curtain on the side of the room and tore it open, revealing a trauma suite identical to the one they were in. Everyone in the second suite stopped what they were doing. There were two men in greens and a patient. He sat therewith his legs dangling over the gurney while one of the doctors inspected a bandage on the side of his head.
Ed Malloy was grinning widely. “Nice one, Doyle,” he said.
25
For a man who had suffered a mild concussion, Malloy was holding up pretty well beneath the blinding television lights. He popped a couple of pain relievers and squinted hard at the camera.
Kaitlin touched his knee gently. “Thank you so much for doing this, Ed. I know it’s been a rough day. We’ll have you out of here as soon as we can.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Malloy responded with half a smile. “Do I look at you or the camera?”
“Just talk tome, Ed, like we’re a couple of old friends shooting the breeze.”
“This is my first time. It’s harder than I thought.”
“Don’t worry,” Kaitlin said. “This is the easy part after what you’ve been through.”
Jack stood quietly next to the satellite truck, which was parked across the street from the crime scene.
“Rolling,” Seth said quietly.
Kaitlin smiled warmly. “Mister Malloy…”
“Call me Ed.”
“Thank you, Ed.”
Jack caught the chuckle before it escaped his throat. Malloy was smooth, suddenly showing no nerves.
“Ed. When you spotted the gunmen, you shouted a warning and as a result lives were saved today. I’d say that makes you a hero.”
“Naw. Not a hero,” Ed looked earnestly into the camera. “These days hero is an overused word. The real heroes were the paramedics, who I’m told went to work on the wounded before the scene was secured by the MPD. They put their lives at considerable risk, not knowing if they were going to get their asses shot off. Can I say that?” Kaitlin smiled and nodded. Then she asked Malloy to tell her exactly what happened, from the beginning.
Malloy told her how he’d spotted the car coming down the street. Moving too slowly, too close to the curb. “Seemed a damn suspicious way to be driving,” he said. “That’s when I spotted it.”
“It?”
“Just a glint. Sunlight through the windshield, I guess. Bouncing off steel. A gun barrel has a different sheen to it. It’s not like anything else,” said Malloy. “I’ve seen it plenty of times before.”
“I’m sure you have.”
Malloy nodded, earnestly.
“There was one gunman, maybe two, you say. One can only imagine what the carnage might have been.”
Malloy picked up the thread, but only after sober consideration. “With at least one determined gunman, possibly two, I can only say the casualties might have been substantially higher,” he paused for a second, “had there been no warning.”
Good man, Jack thought. Downplay, but not so much that the modesty appears theatrical or disingenuous.He had big plans for Malloy in his documentary.
Seth zoomed closer.Maria checked her watch for time code and then scribbled on a notepad.
“And you got lucky. A few stitches.”
Malloy nodded. “In the confusion I got knocked down and I hit my head. Pretty hard I guess because the next thing I knew I was in the hospital. Got a whopper of a headache.”
Kaitlin nodded her sympathy.
Malloy went on. “They wanted to book me in for the night but I said no thanks. No need to take a bed someone else can use. So here I am.”
“And thank goodness for that,” said Kaitlin. “Ed Malloy, the reluctant hero. Thank you for your time.”
Malloy simply nodded.
“That’s it,” Maria said. “Feed it to New York before VTR has a stroke.”
Seth popped a disc from the camera and pounded up the stairs of the satellite truck.There were half a dozen more just like it parked end to end along the street, their huge white dishes pointed towards a starry sky.
It was show time. Reporters were getting set to intro their pieces. Kaitlin took a moment to check her makeup and then grabbed her notepad. Seth jumped from the sat truck and with one eye to the viewfinder of his camera, he quietly directed Kaitlin half a step to the left. “Brilliant,” he said. “Two minutes to air.”
Powerful lights illuminated the area where the shooting happened. It was empty now except for a half dozen cops standing behind yellow police tape. There was a bar next door, spilling drunks onto the sidewalk. Everyone was getting excited because of the live news broadcast.
Malloy walked over to Jack who was still standing off camera. “You touched my soul,” Jack said.
“I have that affect on people. Speaking of souls, who was the stiff under the sheet today?”
“The guy with the guitar, the bolero singer.”
“Wrong place, wrong time,” Malloy said.
Jack winced.
Seth hissed at them to keep it down. “Ten seconds.”
Kaitlin readied herself in front of the camera.Then she was on. “The drive-by shooting in Little Havana today is another act of violence which threatens to rip this community apart. Two were killed, several wounded. A radical anti-Castro group has claimed responsibility—with a warning of more to come.”
“Tape’s rolling,” Seth said.
Kaitlin’s report on the shooting rolled out of New York,meaning that for a few minutes, she could relax while the audience watched her story.There were clips from police, witnesses, and a number of community leaders who were suitably outraged over an act of terrorism. When the piece ended, the interview with Malloy would be played.
Kaitlin’s voice-over continued. The Front de Cuba Libre had claimed responsibility, one of several Cuban extremist groups committed to
the overthrow of the Ortega regime, which they viewed as a decoy for old-guard communists who were happy to take American aidwhile giving up little in the way of democratic reforms.
Malloy shook his head at themention of FCL. Jack was doubtful too.The counter revolutionary zealots favoured bombings and attacks against strategic targets like ships and Cuban airliners. Not cultural celebrations.The drive-by had themark of gang bangers—cheap and dirty.
Itwas a point Jackwasmaking toMalloy—quietly off camera— when theywere interrupted. The man flashed a badge and introduced himself.
Detective Steve Lacy was in his thirties with spiked black hair and gold-rimmed glasses. He wore a lightweight earth-tone suit and leather sandals. He shook hands with Malloy.
“The guys at the station like what you did today,” Lacy said.
“Thanks,” Malloy replied. “We already gave statements.”
“I’m not here about your statements.” Lacy ignored Jack for the moment while he whipped out his notepad and flipped through the pages. “I’m here about Sergio Pabon,” he said. “And your meetingwith him this afternoon? Would you mind telling me why the get together?”
“Would you mind telling us the reason you’re interested?” Jack said.
“Eventually,” Lacy replied, looking past him, salaciously, to where Kaitlin was reviewing her script. “Nice.”
Jack gritted his teeth and imagined slugging the guy. But that would have been foolish. If he did that every time Kaitlin got a look he’d be in big trouble. Still, if Lacy did it again he’d get seriously in his face.
“Pabon’s Day-Timer,” Lacy went on, holding up his notes. “You’re in it.” He shifted his stance. “Cab dropped you off. Cab picked you up. Both drivers have goodmemories.” Lacy nodded towards Jack. “Especially for a well known face.”
Smartass, Jack wanted to say, wondering when Malloy was going to put him in his place. Malloy had underwear older than this moron.
Malloy smiled. “Yeah, we met with Pabon today. At his home. We spoke for about forty-five minutes, enjoyed some iced tea and then left.”
“Spoke about what?”
“That’s none of your concern, detective, and until you tell us the reason for this, you can direct further questions to our lawyers. Now if you’ll excuse us, there’s a live network broadcast going on here.” Malloy jerked his thumb towards Kaitlin. “As you’ve already seen. Now fuck off.”
Maria caught it, brought a finger to her lips. Kaitlin shielded her eyes to try and seewhatwas happening off camera. “Thirty seconds to us,” Maria hissed.
Lacy sneered, planted a hand on his hip to reveal the bulge of a weapon. “I could take you and your friend downtown, but because of my respect for a former law enforcer, I won’t do that.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Malloy said. “Your call.”
“Fifteen seconds to Kaitlin,” Maria said, then, “Gentlemen,we’re doing a live broadcast here. Quiet please.”
Lacy glanced in Kaitlin’s direction and was about to say something when Jack stepped forward. “Not a word, detective,” he said. “Or we can continue this on camera. Just you andme and the whole country. My wife won’t like itmuch. But I will.”
Lacy looked sheepishly at his notes. “Your friend, Sergio Pabon, was murdered this afternoon,” he said flatly.
Jack blanched.
“And if I was the prick you think I am,” Lacy continued, “you’d already be needing lawyers.”
Jack stammered something.
Malloy rubbed his skull, expelled a strained breath, and then tipped his head back. “Jesus, it’s like we had the grim reaper as a tail today.”
The three of them found a quieter place away from the satellite trucks and, with the testosterone in check, they were actually getting somewhere. Malloy told him they had spent part of the afternoon with Sergio Pabon doing research for a documentary. There was no indication of anything untoward in Pabon’s world—he mentioned nothing of threats against him and seemed calm enough during their time together.
“You stop by for ice tea and chit chat and next he’s dead.”
Both of them nodded. Though Jack knew Lacy was smart enough to know he wasn’t being told everything.
Lacy pocketed his notebook anyway. “Fine,” he said. “Did you happen to notice if you were being followed today?”
Jack had already considered asmuch, but shook his head.
Pabon had been executed. A bullet to the back of the head, but that’s about all Lacy was willing to say. “By the way, did Pabon take any phone calls while you were there?”
Malloy couldn’t say for sure. He told Lacy that the only time Pabon had been out of their sight was when he went inside for refreshments. “It’s possible hemade a call then,” he said. “Why?”
“You know the drill,” Lacy said. “Phone records might tell us something about his final hours.”
Final hours. Jack grimaced. Was it possible Pabon was dead because they had sought him out?
Lacy added, “You won’t be needing lawyers but, if I were you, I’d be thinking about bulletproof vests. It’s just a hunch, but I’d be worried about a connection between Pabon and today’s drive-by. You got lucky today. Maybe not so lucky next time.”
Jack checked tomake sure Kaitlin was still out of earshot.
“You know what comes next, Malloy,” Lacy said.
“We’re available.”
“Right,” the detective said, doubtfully. “When’s the documentary, Doyle?”
“I don’t know yet,” Jack said, realizing Pabon’s murder now became an element he’d need to include because of his connection with Rasconi and Sevier.
They watched Lacy leave, and then walked around the sat truck just as Seth was packing up his gear. Kaitlin walked over.
“How’d it go?” Jack said.
“Great,” she replied. “Despite the ruckus off camera. Who was that?”
“Another cop needing information,” Malloy offered.
Jack didn’t like the fudging. “We met with a man today and sometime after we left, he was murdered. That guy’s investigating the case. He says we’re not suspects.That’s the good news. Bad news is he’s thinking the murder had something to do with our visit.” He’d said too much.
“Now you’re really beginning to frighten me,” Kaitlin said. “I think there’s something we should be talking about.”
Starting with someone wants us dead, Jack didn’t say. “Later,” he said, instead.
Maria joined them. Seth was talking to one of the sat truck technicians and after a moment walked over too. “Drinks anyone?”
They stared at him.
“What?”
Jack and Kaitlin took a rain check, and after a light dinner alone at a café not far from the hotel, they returned to their room. Shortly after, Jack was talking and massaging her, occasionally planting gentle kisses on the nape of Kaitlin’s neck.
She was naked on the bed, with Jack kneading her soft warm body. He had told her everything about Pabon and the mystery man, who had been revealed to them as some kind of shadowy operative with an extremely tragic past.
“It didn’t start that way,” Jack told her. “He was brought into the Bay of Pigs operation to kill Castro. At least, that’s what the plan was.” Jack’s fingers dug deep into her shoulder muscles, making her gasp. “Then everything goes sour and he winds up a prisoner in Castillo del Principe. A bitter man.”
“Ooooo. Can we continue this discussion later?”
“In a minute,” Jack said. “They slaughtered Rasconi’s family.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yes. In a cruel twist, the liberator became his family’s executioner.” “How could you forgive yourself?”
“Maybe he didn’t,” Jack replied. “Maybe forgiveness wasn’t on his mind.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Julio Rasconi was like some kind of walking time bomb. Well beyond redemption and forgiveness.” Jack thought about
that for a while, his thumbs and fingers hard at work on Kaitlin’s backside. All Rasconi needed was someone to push him in the right direction.
Jack felt his own muscles tighten. Had someone really tried to kill them that day? Was Sergio Pabon murdered because of something he had revealed to them? The thought stole his concentration and Jack suddenly went silent. He stopped what he was doing.
“Jack.”
He was locked in place. Anxiety rushed in, leaving him momentarily speechless and feeling very alone. Were they being hunted?Was Kaitlin in danger as well?
“Jack.What’s wrong?”
He looked at Kaitlin’s body, determined to push the damn thoughts aside. It was taking too long.
“Where are you,my love?”
“I’m not sure,” Jack replied. “But I’m back, now.”
He planted kisses along the length of her back.
“I’ve been wanting you all night,” Kaitlin whispered.
“Me too,” Jack said hoarsely.
They made love with the air conditioning switched off. Kaitlin moaned and for a long delicious moment halted her rhythm and stared deeply into his eyes. “What if I’d lost you today?” she whispered. “What would I do then, Jack? What could I do? Do you have any idea just how much I love you?” She hugged him tightly. “How much I’ve always loved you?”
Jack plumbed his own feelings and found it difficult to comprehend how he was ever able to survive in her absence. Yet they’d spent most of their lives apart, two timelines rarely intersecting except when fate decided otherwise. They grew up in the same place, were separated in the way that life always does, and then Colombia joined them in a maelstrom. Made two timelines one.