by Manolo Mario
Before she could come to and gain her sense, Santiesteban was on his feet. He reached down and grabbed her hair. “You insolent woman with little respect for me and my wishes. You will have to learn the hard way. You are here to do as I say and as I want. When I want conversation, I expect conversation!”
She whimpered and reached back with her hand to try and take the strain from the hair being pulled, but he continued to pull her back on her knees. She struggled. He let go briefly and slapped her once more. He caught her again by the hair and his other arm to keep her from the floor. His blood boiled. It aroused him. He brought his mouth close to her ear and breathed heavily. “You have belittled me for the last time and you are going to learn what a man is about!”
With hair in hand, he grasped her around the waist and lifted her to the bed where he threw her face down. She was helpless under the weight and strength of this beast of a man, whose knee and elbow were buried into her back. He tore her dress and ripped it to the hem. The baby cried out loud in her crib, but Santiesteban did not hear one sound. He only heard the sound in his ear telling him he would have his woman. There was no stopping this moment. It should have happened long before. Who did this woman think she was to deny his wishes?
He punched the back of her head to get enough time to get his pants down. He pressed his erection in one brutal thrust. He pounded and pounded on her until he satisfied himself, despite her whimpers and cries. When he finished, he got up pushing her deeper onto the mattress.
He stood, pulled his pants up. “You will respect me. You will respect me! I will teach you this lesson as often as I want. I’ve had enough of your coldness and tired of your ailments that keep me from my needs.”
He spanked her bareness hard and turned to the kitchen. He poured a glass of rum and gulped it down, drying his lips with the back of his hand. Then he laughed and laughed hard. He poured another rum and sat. He grinned as he watch a naked Esperanza sob on the bed. The baby had cried herself to sleep Santiesteban drank his rum and spent, he also fell asleep.
Chapter 12
With a sudden shiver, Santiesteban woke up on his chair. It was a bad dream. One in which his secret was uncovered, and he found himself on a ship back to Spain in shackles. He felt groggy, but breathed easier once he realized it was a dream. The kitchen light shone bright still and he could hear the baby sleeping. The curtain covering the sleeping area was drawn and he heard Esperanza as she slept as well. ‘What time is it?’ He was disoriented. He stood unsteadily and walked to his uniform hanging on a nail on the wall. He dug through his pants for his watch, which he instinctively wound bringing it to the light. It was eleven fifteen.
He thought, ‘I feel like I’ve been asleep for hours.’ He leaned to the basin and splashed some water on his face. He straightened suddenly. ‘The capturing of the thieves is to happen soon. I have to take a chance.’ He turned back, put his uniform on and headed out the door.
He had no plan and his mind worked through the possibilities as he slowly headed toward the port’s backside warehouses. He knew at worst, in his uniform, he could offer an explanation of helping on his night off. At best, he could find the man he sought, the quiet one, and get him before the others. Hopefully, the scene would be chaotic and he would go unnoticed at any point. He had to be careful and stay back as much as possible.
Santiesteban lurked silently along backstreets trying to look as much as a lowly, disinterested cop just out walking his beat. With each turn of a corner, he inched his way toward the port. He kept a close eye on his watch and on every clock he could see to make sure he would not be early, but he didn’t want to be late, either. He knew the back-up force would be coming from several streets ahead. He did not see them and he did not want to be seen. His chance was to sit in the shadow and wait to see their movements before following.
***
At the port warehouses, all the policemen were in place for some time. The clock struck midnight, but no one approached the warehouse. As expected, the incoming ship had docked after eleven and the various stevedores were busy setting up cranes and ropes as needed to offload. It would be a process that would take most of the night. Typical of these vessels, an hour after docking several sailors sprinted off the ship looking for the local bars and the usual favors the shore offered. It was noisy irrespective of the time.
The Captain settled himself in the mezzanine of the warehouse, where the one window leading to the street gave him the proper view. A foghorn sounded in the distance and a ship’s bell rang one. He looked at his watch, which confirmed one o’clock. He and his tired men thought this event wouldn’t happen. It would all be a waste, bad information. He peered through the window and yawned. When his eyes opened, he saw movement in the shadows to his right, but couldn’t tell. In any case, and as agreed in the meeting room earlier, he tapped the iron railing to signal his men in the darkened warehouse. By this time, he thought the men in reserve were on edge and it would be hard for them to react in time. He knew the other three men were already patrolling the water’s edge.
***
About four blocks away, Santiesteban could hear the workings of the port and knew he was close. He could not make out any sound alerting him of a police action underway. He knew that some of the men would have guns, but not all. He had his nightstick, enough for his intent. He continued to wait on the obscure side of the street for over an hour. From the corner of his eye he caught some movement and quickly identified the other policemen pacing, biding their time.
***
A loud pop announced the breaching of the lock and the door to the warehouse crept open. Barely visible in the dark, a head peered through and looked around. The man stepped in fully and others followed. The Captain lying prone on the floor of the mezzanine counted the figures. Unexpectedly, the door on the portside of the warehouse opened and quickly closed. In that very instant, light came through and the Captain squeezed his eyes hoping his men would not be spotted. He lost his count. A man entered and ran to the other men at the front. He led them to the right side of the room where a series of crates sat, covered by a tarp. The Captain could see him pulling the tarp and signaling the boxes to the men.
In twos, the men struggled to pick up each box and staggered their way to the door. Another man waited there and kept watch. As the first two men neared the door, it opened wide and a wooden cart pulled back into the threshold. The first box was placed in the cart and the two men hurried back to the stack. There were four sets of men bringing wooden boxes to the cart. The Captain guessed there were ten to twelve members of the gang to his six officers in the warehouse. The other three at the head of the street were not enough. He needed the other eight officers.
One of the thieves left through the port door as he had entered. The Captain assumed it would be the inside man, the stevedore. The police knew him and there was no hurry to follow him. He would be picked up later. Loud whispers and gesturing from the door distracted the two men engaged in picking up another box, and they simply dropped it and hurried to help the other teams get their boxes to the cart. A sudden panic struck the Captain believing they were spotted and the thieves were leaving fast. He knew they were out of time. He took a deep breath and blew his whistle as hard as he could.
***
The eight policemen still blocks away broke into a sprint. Santiesteban trailed them from across the street and half a block behind. The men were so focused on getting to the warehouse that none of them cared to look behind. They were also too tense to see beyond the place they needed to turn.
From afar, Santiesteban thought he saw someone motion from the shadows ahead. The motion came from the corner across the street, a few meters past the warehouse.
***
In the warehouse, the thieves dropped their boxes immediately and ran for the door. The policemen jumped from the shadows and ran for the thieves. The Captain continued to blow his whistle in hope that his other men would show. Unbelievably, the thieves pulled hard on the cart
and got it going down the street with several others coming from behind to push. One of the bandits slipped getting out and two policemen held him by the arms on the ground. The cart made it to the corner before the other policemen reached the location and in their full run about trampled the cart and the thieves. With nightsticks in hand, they took swings at the robbers as several tried to get away. Two of them tried running back to the warehouse to escape through the port and found other cops running their way.
Santiesteban ran behind the wave that hit the corner and the cart. He stopped in his tracks and bent over to catch his breath. Somewhere in his gasps he mumbled curses at his luck and his situation. He stood up in time to see a movement between the buildings on the far side of the corner. He gathered himself and ran past the commotion of cops and nightsticks coming down on thieves. One of the officers beside the cart yelled, “I’ve got their leader!” and Santiesteban cursed, “Damn!” Despite the apparent tragedy, he approached the corner. The street was empty, but he knew he had seen somebody. He recalled an alley immediately to the right that circled back to the street and decided to follow his instinct.
The alley was dark and unleveled. After a hundred meters or so it split down two forks that later came back together near the exit at the street running parallel. Santiesteban stopped and tried to listen beyond his breathing and heartbeat. Nothing could be heard. Which direction to take? From his left, he heard a loud pang. Someone was in the alley and had run into something metal.
The cop headed down the right fork and counted on getting the culprit at the exit of the alley. He ran as fast as he could, almost losing his balance twice, but made it to the exit. He peeled to the left, grabbed his nightstick and put his back against the wall of the building. He tried to control his breath and waited. A smile popped onto his face as two men stepped out of the alley and one was the quiet one from the jail. He swung the nightstick hard catching the quiet one behind his head and smacked the other one across the face as he turned to see what happened.
They both went down hard. The quiet one fell unconscious and Santiesteban worried that he hit him too hard. The other one whimpered in pain. He checked his target first and saw he had a pulse. He grabbed the other one who quickly raised his hands to protect against another whack. Blood covered the side of his face. And what a face it was. The man was as thin as a skeleton. His cheekbone caused the cut.
“So look, if you don’t want to die tonight, right now, you are going to take me and this other guy to where you hide out. Do you understand me?” gritted Santiesteban through his teeth. “What is your name and what is his name?”
The man with the gash simply nodded, “I, I, I, am,m,m,m L,L,Leo and he,he,he, is Pa,Pa,Pa,Pablo.”
“Oh shit! Another abnormal Antillean!” Santiesteban picked Pablo over his shoulder and followed Leo down the street to another alley. With the noise and commotion at the port and the warehouse, residents were starting to turn lights on and open windows. Santiesteban did everything he could to stay ahead during the rest of the way to their hideout. It was in another alley not too far away. They entered the ragged apartment these men called home. Santiesteban put Pablo down and told Leo to sit still. The cop sat down across from Pablo and waited for him to gain his senses.
A few hours later after a night of vigil, the early dawn broke and Pablo stirred. Santiesteban stood and kicked the sleeping Leo awake. “Go get water!” Leo pointed to a large can in the corner and the cop nodded for him to get it. He took some water in his hand and threw it a Pablo’s face. He woke. His eyes flared and when he tried to stand, he found his hands were tied.
“Settle down, ‘toro.’ You are going nowhere.”
Pablo breathed fast and looked to Leo. He saw for the first time Leo had a gash on his face across his cheek and he grimaced.
“Your name is Pablo, yes?”
Pablo nodded.
“If you are thinking about your little operation last night, forget it. It turned to a disaster. Too many people were involved and the cops knew ahead of time.”
Pablo settled into a different position. “It was not my operation. I wanted a piece. You are a cop. I remember you from the jail.”
“And I remember you from the jail as well. This is why you are here and not with your other men.”
“My men? I have no other men. It’s Leo and me.”
Santiesteban grabbed a cup and dunked it in the water and placed the cup to Pablo’s lips and let him drink.
“I know you have a headache, which I could not prevent and what I am going to tell you may not make sense, but I need you to pay attention.”
Pablo looked confused, but he sat back easy.
“I own you and Leo and you are going to help me from now on. If you fail me, I will make sure you two end up in a labor camp, directly bypassing any trial. Even worse, I will make sure the other people in your group become aware that you two were the ones who informed the police about the heist last night. Do you understand me?”
Pablo didn’t panic, but his face affirmed this cop could hurt him. Leo sat panicked and had not said a word.
“What kind of help does a cop need?”
“The kind that I want, when I want, and where I want!”
“What is in it for me and Leo?”
“Beside the point you will not be going to the labor camp within the hour or killed by your mates in a day or so?”
Pablo squirmed. “Yes, besides that.”
“And besides your friend Leo can be eliminated within the same hour?”
Pablo tensed and squirmed a little more. “Leo has nothing to do with this or with you. I’ve known him all my life and he will do what I say!” He seemed to gag as he looked at his friend. “Yes, besides that, we need to feed ourselves and have a life.”
“Like I said I own your life now. So pay attention. I want to expand my business collecting money for protection. From my collections, I will share with you a small portion. It will be enough for you and your friend to move out of this trash heap and get decent clothes. On my orders, you will handle certain thefts and other tasks on specific locations. The thefts will be the incentive for those owners to pay for protection to me. You will not be allowed to do anything outside of what I tell you to do.”
Deliberately Santiesteban paced back and forth three steps in each direction. He turned directly to Pablo. “Are we clear?”
Pablo looked to the side at Leo and back to the cop lifting his binds, “I understand. How do we….?”
The cop cut him off.
“We are not to talk or meet during any time unless I signal you. And how you say? At the corner of Aguila and Gloria there is a light post with a wire trash basket hanging near the base. If I want to speak to you, the basket will be up from the base. You will need to make sure you go by that corner and see if the basket is up. If so, act like you are looking for trash and push it back down. Until we can find a better location, we will meet here after ten at night. Any questions?” The cop looked at Pablo and then to Leo. They each nodded their understanding.
“If either of you have the sense that you will simply run away once I leave here, remember I found you and I will find you again. If there is a next time, it will be the whole police force looking for the ringleaders of a band of thieves or the thieves looking for the snitches.”
Pablo lifted his bound hands. “We understand and we will not be a problem. If the men who were caught last night decide to talk, we may be a target for the cops anyway.”
“Leave that to me. You will need to stay here without moving for a day at least. So which one knows you the best?”
“They all know me, but I doubt they will talk. The one from the port doesn’t know me though….”
“You mean the inside guy with the big mouth?”
“I guess so. Is he a cop?”
“No, he’s not a cop. He’s a bragging idiot talking up a big score. You need to be careful whom you deal with and you still had too many people in your band. We need to chang
e your looks somehow. I will come back later tonight with clean clothes. Can you find a way to shave here and cut your hair somewhat?”
“Yes, I think so. But Leo is hurt. I need to get him stitched.”
“Do you have someone who can?”
“There is a woman, but in another alley. We would have to leave.”
“Here’s my handkerchief. Wrap him and you will wait until tonight before taking him to this woman. Be back here by ten so I can give you your clothes.”
They each nodded in agreement as a rooster crowed in the distance. It was getting lighter fast and Santiesteban wanted to leave there quickly. He took his handkerchief and tossed it to Leo who pressed his cheek to close the gash. If he didn’t fuss, it would hold. As to an infection, in this dump anything could happen. He untied Pablo and waved a menacing finger as he exited the studio and hurried to get back to work.
Chapter 13
One could challenge the many aromas that please the olfactory sense. Everyone determines his favorite. Often the occasion highlights a particular stance one would assume. Perhaps it’s perfume for an evening affair or red wine to portend its taste. And as with other senses, everyone has a favorite. If there existed a general agreement from the working neighborhood, it would be for the scent emanating from the Estrellita Bakery in the mornings. Baking bread was their specialty and in the mornings the aroma would seep its way throughout this part of town. Many residents and laborers on their way to work would stop at the bakery to get their daily bread.
The more erudite would make the shop a meeting hall. Their breakfast of café con leche18 and buttered fresh bread became a tradition, as the discussion around politics, sports and religion fed the ambiance. No subject was out of bounds or untouched. These discussions became quite loud at times and a new observer would be tense in anticipating a brawl. They would be disappointed that it never developed and most of the participants were good friends.