Mystery by the Sea

by David Sal

  “You’re saying that Jessica went to say goodbye and she was the one who found the body? Or, in other words, she was not with you all for a moment?” Lorenzo asked, opening his eyes with interest.

  “Yes, but it was very quick, I don’t think that…” said Irma, trying to put Lorenzo’s unfounded suspicion to rest.

  “No, no, of course not, but you have to look at everything,” clarified Lorenzo.

  Irma remained silent and took a drink of water. The memories were still very fresh in her mind. She thought she could be strong enough to talk about the matter calmly, but her body and mind automatically reacted in accordance with the impact of the experience. She felt a strong impulse to cry. Her eyes turned red and her nose got stuffy.

  “Sorry, but it hasn’t been easy,” she apologized, taking a Kleenex from her purse. “In spite of his faults, Pedroza always treated me well. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for the trust he had in me and the opportunities he gave me. And to die like that, so violently and so close to us… besides, like I said, I thought highly of Doris and that’s why I agreed to tell you what happened. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for you, either.”

  “And I really appreciate it. You’re being a great help,” he assured.

  “Whatever you need, I’m at your service,” she paused, “but I suggest that you be realistic with your expectations. I really don’t see anything else to talk about. Sometimes we have to accept the unacceptable in order to move forward,” she finished.

  Lorenzo did not answer. He had wanted to know more and that is what he had gotten. But the details that Irma gave did little more than extinguish what little hope he had of discovering something that could help Doris. Now he had to speak with Jessica Ronda. She was the one who found the body and—who knew?—maybe she was the last person to see Armando Pedroza alive.

  Lorenzo saw their waiter on the other side of the room and signaled to him to bring the check. The waiter answered that he would be there in a minute. With all the grace he could muster, Lorenzo took out his wallet and looked for the credit card with the lowest balance. He squeezed his lips shut and forced a smile for Irma, who reminded him that they still had not ordered dessert.

  Chapter 6

  Salsa, with its rhythmic and catchy tropical flavor, echoed off every corner of the historic theater. On stage, a pair of dancers moved with quick, agile steps. They turned, lifted their arms, and jumped acrobatically, all with the grace and precision that only pure talent and endless hours of rehearsal could achieve.

  Lorenzo watched in amazement from a seat at the back of the auditorium. Aside from the dancing, the other thing that attracted his attention was the fabulous building. He had not had the opportunity to visit the place since they finished the famous renovations it had been under for so many years. Constructed at the beginning of the twentieth century, it was considered an architectural gem. Lorenzo admired the balconies, as well as the columns’ artistic features, the impressive dome of multi-colored stained glass, and the magnificent hanging chandelier floating over the auditorium. All of these details imparted splendor and grandeur to the hundred-year-old structure.

  Suddenly, the male salsa dancer stopped in his tracks on the wood floor and gestured for the music to stop by slicing his hand across his throat. He harshly scolded his dance partner in forced Spanglish. She only nodded timidly. Then he, who by all appearances was the one in charge, locked his eyes on Lorenzo.

  “You can’t be in here. ‘Dis is a cloze rehearsal. Out, por favor. Now!” he shouted, his voice filling the room. Lorenzo stood up pressing his hands to his thighs and opening his mouth, calculating the tenor he wanted to strike with his next words.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t come to see the rehearsal. I just wanted to speak with her for a minute, if you would allow me to,” said Lorenzo, motioning to the ballerina. “Jessica Ronda?”

  “We’re rehearzing. You can’t,” snarled the male dancer. Jessica moved toward him and, grasping him by the arm, pulled him aside.

  “Luiggi, please, let me talk to him. It’s time for a break now, anyway, right?” said Jessica in a calm, low voice. Luiggi twisted his lips while he considered the request.

  “We not leaving here until ‘dis is perfect, okay?” warned Luiggi, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel.

  “Whatever you want. It’ll only take a minute,” Jessica promised, smiling.

  “Okay, we take a quick break people!” ordered Luiggi in a sharp voice, inundating the auditorium with the sound of his repeated clapping.

  Jessica got down from the stage and met Lorenzo in the middle of the auditorium. She reached out a hand to say hello while using her other hand to hold up a bottle of water to take a drink.

  “You’re Lorenzo, Doris’ husband, right?” asked Jessica, verifying what she had already suspected.

  “Yes, pleased to meet you,” said Lorenzo, impressed by the attractive presence emanating from her.

  Ms. Ronda was in her early thirties, but her figure was enviable even to women much younger. Her skin glowed and she conducted herself with cheerfulness while at the same time giving the impression of maturity and intelligence. What attracted Lorenzo’s attention the most, though, was that she seemed strong as a tank but light as a feather. She was definitely in her element. He could not imagine her in an office, seated behind a desk working with numbers and figures while her talent wasted away, never fully developed.

  “I apologize for arranging to meet you here, but we’re pressed for time before the premiere. That’s why Luiggi is being so unpleasant. Please accept my apologies for him,” begged Jessica, embarrassment registering in her voice because of her partner.

  “No, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal. I was part of theater in high school. I remember how testy we were during final rehearsals. I think Doris also dabbled in the world of art. She sang in the choir in school. She was good but apparently not good enough for her standards. She stopped as soon as she graduated,” shared Lorenzo, looking for common ground where they could meet.

  “Dance has always been my passion. Ever since I was a little girl, it was the only thing that mattered to me. But life can turn on a dime and there are things that can divert us from what’s closest to our heart,” said Jessica, touching her chest and looking up at the theater’s awe-inspiring ceiling, dwelling on her decisions and her past. “Now time is passing me by and I wouldn’t dare leave my day job to dedicate myself to this full-time. And I have offers. I’m scared, though, that something will happen that I’ll regret later.”

  “I guess we’re all scared of something and that’s what holds us back. Those who really shine, though, are the ones who don’t hold back and jump in head first,” Lorenzo thought out loud, putting himself at her level. “That’s one of the qualities that attracted me to Doris. She’s never scared,” said Lorenzo, remembering that the last time he saw Doris was the first time he had ever seen her scared.

  “How is she?” asked Jessica, wrinkling her forehead in a sign of interest.

  “Not good at all,” confided Lorenzo, raising his eyebrows.

  “Okay, yeah, I guess….um…I’m sorry. It’s just that, wow, I don’t know how anyone could, you know, take someone’s life. It must be atrocious. I don’t understand,” she said with an expression of disgust.

  Lorenzo closed his eyes with a sigh. Then he opened them and looked her squarely in the face.

  “She’s innocent,” he clarified categorically.

  “Well, yeah, of course, it’s just that…,” said Jessica, trying to take back her statement.

  “It looks like an open-and-shut case,” conceded Lorenzo with another sigh.

  “Well, yes. I’m really sorry to say so, but that’s the way it is. I was there and I don’t think anyone else in the house was as surprised as I was. Doris isn’t like that. I’m sure. I’ve gotten to know her well enough to testify to that. But we all have our limits. I’m sorry for saying it, but it looks like Doris reached hers,” sa
id Jessica sadly.

  “That’s why I’m here. Actually, you were the one who found the body. Isn’t that right? How much time did you spend out of everyone else’s view?” asked Lorenzo, making Jessica uncomfortable.

  “You wouldn’t be insinuating that…no, no. You couldn’t…” said Jessica, annoyed at the direction Lorenzo was headed with his question.

  “I just want to know the truth,” interrupted Lorenzo.

  “Which truth? The one that’s most convenient to you?” asked Jessica, offended by the insinuation.

  “Don’t misunderstand me. It’s that I need to be sure of what really happened. Nothing more, I promise you,” Lorenzo said with a plea.

  Jessica noted his desperation. She also noted that Luiggi’s eyes were fixed on them. He was very perceptive and could read his partner’s body language like the back of his hand. If he sensed that something was making her lose focus, he would immediately put an end to the conversation. She shot a glance back at Luiggi, communicating that she wanted privacy. He understood her and turned his head. Jessica then proceeded to humor Lorenzo.

  “Well, it’s very simple. Doris arrived at Pedroza’s house very worked up and anxious. It was a surprise to everyone, even Pedroza, which is what really shocked me. No one was expecting her,” recounted Jessica, losing some of her sparkle.

  “What do you mean? Why were you particularly shocked that Pedroza would be surprised by Doris’ arrival?” inquired Lorenzo, interested in a possible new angle.

  “Doris had an invitation in her hand just like the one the rest of us received. I saw it,” assured Jessica, opening her eyes and shaking her head for emphasis.

  “An invitation?” he asked, intrigued.

  “It was a simple card with a note indicating the place and time. We had to show it to the guard at the entrance of the house in order to be allowed in. It was Pedroza’s custom.”

  “You mean to say that if Doris had one of those cards, it was because Pedroza invited her to attend that night? Is that right?” analyzed Lorenzo. “But if that were the case, why would Pedroza be surprised to see her there?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Maybe it was her attitude when she arrived that surprised him. I don’t know. She even brought her award! I thought she was going to return it to him because they’d fired her,” said Jessica, referring to the crystal trophy that was now the alleged murder weapon.

  “Do you have your invitation with you? Could I take a quick look at it?” asked Lorenzo.

  “I don’t have it, but I can get it for you. It’s got to be somewhere in my house.”

  “None of this makes sense to me. What did Pedroza do then?”

  “Pedroza invited her into his study, which was next to the room where we were tasting the wine. After two or three minutes she left, running toward the hallway, and I saw her go all the way to the foyer and leave. After waiting for a little bit, I think maybe five minutes or so, I decided to go in and say goodbye to Pedroza. I couldn’t stay long because I had a rehearsal the next day and I was exhausted.”

  “You waited five minutes? Why didn’t you go in sooner if you were in a hurry?”

  “I assumed Pedroza was taking his time because he was on the phone or something. I knocked on the door and nothing. I opened it and that’s when I saw him on the floor with his head covered in blood,” explained Jessica with a repulsed grimace.

  “What did you think at that moment?” asked Lorenzo.

  “I’m really sorry, but what I thought was that Doris had gone crazy. The trophy was next to Pedroza’s body and was stained with blood. It wasn’t hard for me to come to a conclusion,” Jessica said avoiding eye contact with Lorenzo. She let out a slight sob that Lorenzo could hear.

  “Jessica, how did you feel?”

  “How do you think?” she asked, swallowing and wiping the tears from her eyes. “Horrible. In shock.”

  “Did you cry?”

  “What?”

  “Did you cry when you saw Pedroza and realized what had happened?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember. But I don’t know what that has to do with anything.”

  “You’re right. Just curious, sorry. What’d you do next?”

  “Then I called everyone else in. I hadn’t even gone into the room. I couldn’t take a step. I was paralyzed by shock. It was the last thing I expected to see,” expressed Jessica, breathing faster at the unpleasant memory.

  “You didn’t enter the room? Are you sure?” asked Lorenzo with caution. He knew it was a question that could potentially put an end to the interview. Plus, he still had other people to talk to. If it got out after this that he was asking ill-advised questions to the witnesses, doors would close. But he gauged that he should push a little further to observe reactions, find possible contradictions and whatnot.

  “Yes, I’m sure. Actually, the maid saw me from the hallway. You can ask her. I didn’t move. I called out from the door,” she said, emphasizing her words with gestures.

  “What’d the maid do?”

  “She did let out a cry that was heard throughout the whole house and took off running to look for Pedroza’s wife. Everyone was shaken up and crying by that time. Then the police arrived. We made our preliminary statements and they let us go. I don’t ever want to go through something like that again,” she said dejectedly.

  Lorenzo was emboldened to see that she had answered all of his other questions without any negative consequences.

  “At least it seems like it hasn’t affected you very much. You’re here,” commented Lorenzo in reference to the rehearsal. He thought it would be interesting for her to explain the apparent contradiction of participating in a dance spectacle after witnessing such a horrible event.

  “The show must go on,” she said before pausing. “Look, I’m not going to deny that I have mixed feelings. On the one hand, I deeply regret the loss of a partner who appreciated us enough to invite us into his house to share and enjoy wine for a little while. But on the other hand, I feel relieved that our job will be much easier from here on out. Everyone knows that Pedroza was not easygoing in the office. I hate thinking and feeling this way. I don’t like it. Certainly the others will feel something similar, especially Javier.”

  “Javier Estrada?” asked Lorenzo, looking at his note sheet. “Why do you say that?”

  “He’s one of the vice-presidents. Now he’s heralded as the favorite to be named as the new president. Actually, he’s acting as interim president as we speak. It looks like his dream has come true. Certainly not in the way he imagined, though.”

  “Another happy mourner?” said Lorenzo with a measure of poorly directed sarcasm that clearly did not sit well with Jessica.

  “Don’t say that, please. Don’t say it,” pleaded Jessica, shaking her head.

  Luiggi interrupted the break with applause.

  “Okay, time iz up guyz! We continue or we be late. Jessica! Come up here!”

  “Excuse me, but I should get back to rehearsal. Anyway, that’s all I know. Frankly, I don’t think there’s any other way to look at it. I’m sorry,” ended Jessica, getting up from the bench, leaving Lorenzo sitting there, silent.

  From there he could see how Jessica climbed up on stage and firmly grasped Luiggi’s hands. As soon as the music started, her face was transformed with radiant joy and her body broke out in energetic movements to the salsa’s rhythm.

  “The show must go on,” murmured Lorenzo, sinking down in his seat.

  Chapter 7

  The mansion that served as the residence for Javier Estrada, the recently named interim president for Pedroza Enterprises, sat atop a big hill. The structure was not necessarily impressive because of its size, but rather, because of its modern multilevel architectural design and its breathtaking panoramic view of the coast. Commissioned by the Estradas four years ago, it was designed according to their exact specifications. A huge kitchen, master bedroom with a spacious Jacuzzi tub, a closet larger than the regular rooms of most mere mortals, a
nd an art studio so that Javier’s wife could practice her love of art. For the man of the house, a complete gym equipped with the latest machines and a pool large enough to swim laps, his favorite sport.

  That afternoon, Javier Estrada was finishing his routine laps when a woman stopped at the edge of the pool to inform him of the arrival of a visitor. Javier was aware of the possibility that Lorenzo Almeida might stop by during the day, like he had told him over the phone, but he did not think he actually would. He had hoped that, after interviewing Irma and Jessica, Lorenzo would find it unnecessary to visit him. But there he was.

  Javier asked the woman to let Lorenzo in and indicated that he would receive his guest right there at the pool. The woman went back into the house and Javier pulled himself up on one of the pool’s rails. He walked over to a small table, dripping water as he went, where he picked up a white towel that was laying across one of the chairs and started to dry himself off.

  Javier had an enviable physique, thanks to the many hours he spent in the gym and to swimming on a regular basis. He looked like the perfect model of professional success—straight out of some social magazine. He was 44 years old, but his gray hair suggested that he was older.

  Outside at the entrance, Lorenzo waited patiently while the electric gate slowly rolled up, allowing him entrance to the property. Once his path forward was no longer blocked, he drove his car around the water fountain with marine motifs that adorned the building’s façade. He parked in front of the porch at the main entrance. Beautiful and well-tended gardens granted a final touch of class to the space. Lorenzo stepped out of his car and walked to the front door where he was greeted by a woman.