by Manolo Mario
The Crystal Restaurant was as good a place as any. Galo would beat the lunch crowd, find the corner of the bar and gather his thoughts. He entered and immediately felt the coolness of the darkened room. He stood there a minute until his eyes adjusted from the glaring sun. As the room came into view, he saw a seat at the far end of the bar facing the door in what appeared to be a quiet area somewhat away from the tables that would soon be filled with lunch patrons.
Apparently on this day, the special was pig’s feet with garbanzo beans. As Galo took his stool at the bar, it was the special the tender offered before a drink. “Will you be having the special? The cook makes it really special. The whole city will come to eat today.”
Galo half smiled, “thanks but I’d really like two lines of añejo rum with an ice cube. I am not waiting for anyone in particular and won’t need a table.”
As he waited for his drink, he noticed the other waiters and waitresses were walking the floor to fuss with the place settings. A couple came through the front door and the host immediately flew at them with two menus and led them to a small table by the wall. Soon other groups entered and waited to be led to their table. The bartender approached with his drink. “Forgive me for taking time, but I had to open a new bottle. I added a line for the trouble. If you change your mind about the food, just come back to me.” Galo smiled and nodded his thanks.
The room grew noisy with the crowd and the tingling of silverware, glasses, and dishes. The smell of the warm bread being brought out grew, as did the work of the bartenders. Galo swirled his glass and took in the sweet smell of the aged rum. He lifted his glass to his lips and took a sip which he let sit in his mouth. He closed his eyes as he allowed the alcohol to burn a bit and then soothe. It was a moment of pure relaxation and as he swallowed, the stress of the past few hours seemed to abate instantly. He exhaled and took in a deep breath, but was disturbed by the host loudly welcoming a group of six men. He led them past Galo to a private room behind a curtain situated to Galo’s left; a curtain unnoticed by Galo when he first sat.
Without lifting his head from the drink in front of him, Galo peered to the left to see the curtain pulled aside. He saw a table set up for six and the men working their way to their seats. A young waiter poured water glasses as the host explained all the good food they would eat on this day. One of the men could be clearly heard.
“Camilo, why don’t you set us up?”
He immediately asked for a bottle of rum with glasses for the six. Galo saw the man that spoke wore a groomed pencil thin mustache. The curtain closed.
Galo returned to his glass and took another sip, which didn’t burn at all this time. It tasted like the sweet sugarcane it came from. He felt much better and now took a chance to look around the increasingly crowded room. The mix of smells mounted as each new plate came into the dining room. The pig’s feet plate provided a terrific aroma and he could tell it was hot. Beside the white plumes rising, some patrons were blowing on their forks, others were dipping the bread in the sauce to balance the heat, and others still were drawing on their water glasses after burning their tongues. Each glance around the room was disturbed by laughter and talk from behind the curtain. It seemed the men were ribbing each other to see who would outdo the next one and each eruption of talk or laughter grew louder than the general noise of the place.
One of the bartenders appeared with a bottle of rum and glasses and like before, walked behind Galo, opened the curtain with one hand and stepped into the room. A loud voice acknowledged that the drinks had arrived and told the bartender to pour! ‘Well,’ Galo thought, ‘there goes my idea of a quiet drink before heading home. This place is quite loud and the guys in the back room are louder than the rest of the crowd.’ He picked up his glass and drew another long sip so as to drain the glass in anticipation of leaving. He felt fine and lifted his hand for the man who served him, but the man fixed another drink at the far end and didn’t see him right away. Patiently, Galo waited for the tender to finish. When he did, Galo made eye contact opened his left palm flat and with his right index finger made a gesture of writing on his hand. The waiter nodded lifting his index finger signifying he needed a minute.
Glasses clinked behind the curtain and a voice rose. “We drink to another great buying trip, one that will bring us great profit, a good life, and all we deserve. Salud!”
This was followed by more clinking and agreement grunts. Another voice popped up. “We’ve made easy money from those stupid guajiros17 that raise the cattle. I drink to their continued state of blissful ignorance! Salud!” Laughter and more clinking followed.
“Señor, señor, your bill. Señor,” the waiter stood before Galo handing over a small piece of paper.
Galo looked up not particularly acknowledging the waiter, but thoroughly mesmerized by the talk from behind the curtain. He shook his head and focused on the waiter. “I’ve changed my mind. I would like another rum and I’ll have a plate of the special.” He carefully lowered his tone and leaned forward to the waiter so as to minimize his roaring voice.
“Very well, señor! I’m glad you reconsidered.” The tender smiled recognizing that each additional item would bring him a few more cents in his tip.
Galo’s brain worked fast. ‘Could this Camilo be the guy who sells us cattle and could these guys be all the other buyers?’
The drink came and the lunch and the men behind the curtain continued to talk and celebrate. More deals were discussed. Names were mentioned and the comments as to the quality of the cattle flew back and forth. Some men went to the west of the island to Pinar Del Rio for cattle and others would go east to Camagüey. Clearly they were all successful, but at this time it was pure ego between them. Details were expressed about who could negotiate better and who were the toughest cattlemen to score. Later they spoke of their target price for the next season and the observations of pregnant cows and the condition of the herds.
Galo did not carry paper or pencil with him to take notes. He did not need to because he had the talent to retain details in his head. Few people have this innate flair. Galo had a perfect memory for minutiae. This is why he was so good with strategy and why he could observe the production line and instantly grasp how things were going. On more occasions than not, he could let Elio know how they were doing long before Alonso booked the figures and finished the accounting. At times like this, he purely absorbed all the information he could.
The lunch crowd diminished and the noise of the room returned to more normal levels. The men behind the curtain had enough food and drink and they could not tell how loud they were. In the meantime, all he learned captivated Galo. He finished his lunch and as customary for him, his elbows were on the counter and he rubbed his hands up and down. He merely contemplated his drink while listening intently. He looked up enough to notice the restaurant was emptying and a rise of concern took him in. The men behind the curtain were beginning to stir as though they would be leaving. Galo did not want to be in the seat when they came out. It could raise suspicion and perhaps force him to answer some questions he did not care to.
Once more he signaled to the tender for his bill and received the same acknowledgement as earlier. From behind the curtain, one of the men called that he would pay the bill. Noisily everyone started fighting over who would pay. To his right, Galo saw the host carrying the bill to the private room. There would be no time for him to get his tab settled and leave before the curtain opened once more. The tender was still settling other bills and Galo’s anxiety built.
Behind Galo, one of the waitresses finished resetting a table. He had no view of her. He did glance her way when he came in and it seemed to him that she held the stare a little longer than normal. Perhaps it was the green eyes that drew her attention.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Señor?”
Galo turned to his right, away from the curtain, and looked at the waitress up and down with a pleasant smile on his face. She was not a great looker, but had nice curves and a
supple smile. He extended his right hand as to invite her to reach her hand and touch his, which she did and he gently led her closer. He drew his face closer to hers and whispered in her ear as softly as he could.
By this time to keep her balance, her left hand sat on his right shoulder and she leaned on him. The curtain flew open and the men filed out of the room merely noting a man and a woman were in an apparent embrace at the bar. The bearded one noticed the two and hollered to his friends ahead. “It’s time to go to Lulu’s!” And all the others laughed as they walked to the front door.
Galo kept whispering in her ear, hoping they would go away fast. The waitress, blushed, but was smiling as she stood back and looked at Galo. “Ah, you are quite forward, Señor. How could you offer such a thing to a lady you just met! And look,” she stared incredulously at his left hand noting a wedding band, “you are a married man!”
“Why yes, I’m married, but not dead and my wife is not jealous.”
“Why you are a scoundrel.”
No voices were raised. The men departed the restaurant. The bartender stood on the other side with the bill in hand and his mouth open.
“Don’t think of me as a scoundrel. I simply appreciate beautiful women and if I recall you approached me.”
“Well, that’s not what I meant.”
Galo stood and smiled at her as he reached in his pocket for money to pay. “All the same, the offer is sincere.”
She turned with a flip of her hair and quickly looked back. “No, I don’t think so.” She took a few steps and looked back once more. “But thank you.” The waitress walked away a little redder than before. Galo paid and left without any undue stress, full of ideas and a smile on his face.
* * *
17 Guajiros are country people; savvy about animals and the earth, but not so much about city life and money.
Chapter 11
The captain called for a general meeting of his police squads for three in the afternoon. The men started to assemble at five ‘til and the expected general raucous built in the meeting room. Plain wooden chairs were placed side to side in rows to fill every space. An aisle was left open in the middle. Santiesteban joined the room a minute later to find himself near the back and standing as all the chairs were taken. The room fell silent as Captain Gonzalez entered with his two assistants.
“Good afternoon men. I need you to pay close attention since this is a sensitive and timely situation. We are going to nab the thieves who have invaded our fair city this evening. After several weeks of monitoring the reports and analyzing the facts, we have concluded they are going to hit tonight. Sometime after midnight, we believe they will hit a warehouse located at the backside of the port right off Fabio Street. A ship arrived yesterday and offloaded silver that is waiting for another vessel to move the cargo. We have a source at the port, who overheard a stevedore tip the gang of the valuables. It seems that for a cut of the goods, he has passed along the plans and the information.”
One of the men in the middle of the room raised his hand and spoke, “Captain, the street is a dead-end with little room to operate. Depending on how this goes, we could be spotted well ahead and the thieves would run away.”
“That is a great observation, Enriquez. This is why we are gathered here. Not all of us can be directly involved. So some of us will need to be in reserve and based on timing be at the location as needed. By the end of this meeting, we will all agree on how we will do this.”
Another officer raised a hand and spoke. “Perhaps if we were not in uniform we could mix into the neighborhood and not be spotted. It depends on the number of thieves. Do we know how many?”
“All good points, but let me be very clear, it will be dark. There will be no way for you to recognize each other. The last thing I want is for one of you to be injured by accident. As much as we may not like it, you will wear your uniform.”
This was followed by grunts and moans of men who felt restrained. Captain Gonzalez continued, “Now, for our advantage, we have secured the use of one warehouse at the corner of the street, where we can cut off the exit. Some of you will be posted inside the target warehouse with me where we can hide from the hoods. The goal is once the first crate exits the door, we jump on them.”
Enriquez raised his hand once more. “Captain, what about the doors on the port side of the warehouse? Do we feel certain they will head for the street? Could they not go back to the port and load on a small boat and head out to the bay?”
The Captain turned to one of his assistants with an eyebrow raised. Lieutenant Perez spoke, “We considered that, but all of the crimes committed to date have been on the street. We are not aware of any capability to go by sea. We also confirmed that a cargo ship is due in port at around 11 tonight. We think as work starts on this ship, the activity would deter thieves from being around the waterfront.”
Enriquez looked to the men on his right before adding. “Or serve as a great cover since we would have a hard time telling who is who in the darkness.”
With the information more mumbling and comments between the men erupted. Captain Gonzalez drew in Perez and his other assistant, Arroyo, and quietly talked through the issues raised. They went back and forth.
With a final gesture of both hands open and parallel to the ground and a quick separation, Captain Gonzalez stomped his foot, “Enough and quiet!” The room felt silent in an instant. “Listen to me. No plan is ever perfect. We are dealing with the best information we have and we will take this chance. I am tired of the mayor coming to me and asking what we are doing to protect the property of our citizens. We need to act. So, here it is. Those of you who are not scheduled to work tonight, you are not expected to be there.” He looked to the back to see a disinterested Santiesteban cleaning a fingernail. “Everyone else will go as planned. We will have three of you in the port along the waterfront in case they choose this route. At no time do I expect you to be noticed. We do not want to scare away the stevedore who is the insider. The three at the waterfront will not enter the port area until after midnight…”
The meeting continued discussing the positioning and establishing a time for the other men that would be scattered a few blocks away in all directions to come rushing to the scene in order to have plenty of force to deal with the criminals.
~~~
Santiesteban did not guffaw out loud because he had self-control at the moment. It was his night off and there were plans. With this situation developing, he needed to alter his thinking, though. Perhaps this was the opportunity to get his man and turn him into an asset. He wasn’t sure his man was the leader of the gang of thieves, but it was a bet he would be willing to take. He knew to be careful. The attempted theft had to go through and an expected number of thieves would need to be captured. Someone would need to be saved for his plan.
The meeting finished with an agreement for the primary men to be placed early after sunset. By seven thirty, each would casually walk into their respective location. Most people would be at dinner and there would be a lull of curiosity. They were to gather for the operation at six thirty in this room.
***
With his day ending at four, Santiesteban hurried home and stayed there long enough to give Esperanza another talk down and change out of his uniform. He left quickly with straw hat in hand in hopes of finding his asset. Based on his earlier reconnaissance, he had a general idea of the guy’s hideout, but was unsure. He wore uniform when he followed him the last time and dared not approach too soon. This afternoon would be different; his one chance to land the fish.
Bypassing the police station by three streets, Santiesteban worked his way to the area of the neighborhood where he followed the quiet one once before. Luckily, this area teemed with street vendors and plenty of customers buying vegetables and staples for their dinner. He quietly roamed kiosk by kiosk without arousing suspicion. He even bought a bag of apples to carry around. One time did he have to scoot around a kiosk to avoid a policeman who could easily identify hi
m. He walked block around block around block around block wanting to spot the mere soul from that day in the jail.
Desperation set in as the shadows were gaining length. His eyes darted back and forth, beckoning for a familiar person to appear, but none did. Disappointed and discouraged, he left the neighborhood through an alley and thought his plan a failure. He hated the thought of going home with a bag of apples and no ability to force his plan. What else could he do? Would he be crazy enough to interject into the police operation this evening and find his target, if he should even be there? Would ‘quietman’ be there or would he stay back and let his men do the deeds? Was he one to be feared or simply the man with two ounces of brains among a bunch of imbeciles? Too many thoughts ate at his brain as he got home.
He climbed the stairs to the noise and smells of all the cooking in the building. He opened the door to his apartment and entered with the same scowl as he had left hours before. Esperanza had dinner on the table. The baby hummed in her crib with a bottle of milk in her mouth. He altered his scowl enough to touch his baby’s face and walked to the table and sat. He looked down at his plate and saw a piece of ham, a blood sausage, and potatoes. He was hungry, but needed to keep Esperanza tense. This type of control made him feel safe that no one would ever find them. He started in on her even though he filled his mouth and it tasted good. Esperanza sat across and looked down without saying a word. She made every effort to appease him and avoid his fury and another plate of food on her face.
Yet, the silence itself annoyed him. Santiesteban sought a reaction so he could berate her further. He finished his last bite mumbling something about respect and the lack she showed. She continued to look down and when he put the fork on the plate, she reached across to retire the setting. He met her reach with a backhanded slap that knocked her off balance and onto the floor. The plate and silverware flew as well and shattered a few feet away.