Murder With A Splash Of Rum: A Puerto Rican Thriller Read online

  Besides, Esteban Arroyo was pure muscle. If Winthrop struggled and Alexandra needed backup, she couldn’t ask for any better.

  “Fine. You can make some calls on the way. I need you to call this number. It’s Fernando’s mother.”

  “Titi. I have met her.”

  “Good. Get a description of Fernando’s car.”

  Esteban followed Alexandra to her car. He was shaking with terror. He was hoarse from worrying and could barely scratch out a whisper. “If I see him again I’m never letting him out of my sight.”

  ‹33›

  Phillip slapped a beer can away from Fernando’s hands as it was offered to him. Fernando had downed a beer while sitting under the banyan tree. They had been sitting there for thirty minutes.

  “Philip, we’ve been sitting here for a bit. I’ve got to meet some people in San Juan later, can we run by your new beach house now and take a look?”

  By this time Fernando had learned to walk on eggshells when it came to Phillip. Anything he had said during the entire day had met with a nasty, spiteful remark. He just wanted the evening over with so that he could go and get ready to meet Esteban. Esteban was probably already at La Placita. He might make it before ten o’clock if he could disentangle himself from Phillip. Phillip had seemed reticent to leave. It was obvious that they wouldn’t be stopping by Ely’s tonight.

  A strange sound began to emanate from Phillip’s throat and nose, like someone struggling with nasal drip.

  “So, you gave your number out to that Ricardo guy. I guess the truth finally comes out.” Phillip’s voice was different. His tone had changed. It was terse, stretched.

  “I told you, it was just so he could meet my boss. That’s all. It was a business thing, you know, one hand washing the other.”

  “That’s what they all say.” Phillip’s coughing and wheezing grew stronger. “Just like my parents, ya just like ‘em.” Phillip’s accent was odd. It was much thicker than Fernando had hear before.

  Fernando shook his head. Phillip was obviously upset. Now was not the time to correct him or argue with him. Eggshells.

  Phillip continued. Fernando was having difficulty understanding the accent. The polished soft accent he had always associated with Philip had been replaced with a strong, thick Boston accent. It sounded like a completely different person.

  “I’ve met guys like you, Fernando. Lots of guys like you. You get whatcha want from me and just kick me to the cuhhhb. Like I’m trash. I’m not trash. I’m not trash. I’ve got more class in me than you can evah hope for. You’re just a greasy Pottarican, you know that? I’m bettah than you I’m way bettah than you!” Phillip’s voice had started to rise. He continued clearing his throat, wheezing, and making snorting sounds.

  Fernando was stunned. He had never heard Phillip speak or behave like this. Fernando had never been racially attacked or had his nationality criticized. He had never experienced racism of any sort.

  “What are you talking about Phillip? I’m your friend. How can you call me a greasy Puerto Rican? You liked me when we first met!”

  Phillip continued his almost frantic wheezing. The calm sound of lapping waves was the only other sound to break the nights’ stillness.

  “You’re right. You’re always right,” replied Phillip. He wheezed again.

  “Let’s just go back to the cars. I’ve got to get back to the house for La Placita tonight.” Fernando started to rise.

  “Sure. You got to meet Ricardo, right? Oh, wait No, he’s dead.” Phillip snorted and laughed a cruel ‘ha’.

  “Phillip, that’s not nice. He was murdered. What has gotten into you?” Fernando was horrified at Phillip’s callous reference to Ricardo Herger.

  “Yeah, maybe he desuhved what he got,” Phillip snorted.

  “Phillip!” Fernando turned and looked at Philip, amazed.

  Fernando started to stand up. Phillip placed his hand on Fernando’s shoulder and pushed him back to the ground. His voice softened. “Look, I’m sorry. I just really liked you, is all. I guess I got jealous. Let’s have another drink.” Phillip’s face had mellowed as quickly as it had angered. His polished accent had returned. He leaned back against one of the banyan tree’s high roots which protruded three feet above the sand in a long snake-like pattern.

  Fernando was ready to leave, but he couldn’t let himself leave Philip with bad feelings. The two had to live on the same island. Fernando felt a little responsible for Phillip’s jealousy. He had given out his work number and kept that a secret. He nodded and pulled out the last Medalla. He began to mix Phillip a vodka cranberry. He hoped they could finish this final cocktail and head back to San Juan. He no longer cared to see Phillip’s new beach property. Once they returned to the car, he would apologize and promise to return next week during the daylight.

  He handed Phillip his cocktail, and then opened his beer. Fernando stared across the lagoon. The moonlight danced over the dark surface. There no waves. The birds had long since retired. Even the coquis, Puerto Rico’s tree frogs, were quiet. The night had suddenly turned deathly still.

  “This is a nice place to rest,” commented Fernando.

  “Yes,” replied Phillip. “You can rest here.” Phillip’s accent began to change again. “In the embrace of a banyan tree. I fell asleep inside a banyan tree once when I was young, on vacation in Savannah. I was only seven years old, but I had to spend the night out there because my alcoholic father had passed out and forgotten about me. My mother was high on heroine. I was there for over twelve hours, alone.”

  “Sorry about that, I bet you were scared,” Fernand replied, quietly sipping on his beer and as he reclined against the tree.

  Philip snorted an affirmation. Hovering over Fernando, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small bundle of white cord.

  ‹34›

  Lydia stood up and stretched. She had been dialing numbers for half an hour. Luckily, she maintained a customer contact list for the bar. She had dialed several of her patrons who knew Fernando. No one had seen Fernando recently.

  The hard cement benches in the rear of her restaurant were taking their toll. She laid her phone down on the table where she had been seated and walked to the iron gate that gave access to the rear entrance. She left the gate open during daylight hours, but at night she preferred to keep it closed for security reasons

  As she rubbed her back and stretched, she looked across the dirt road outside of the gate. It was already dark, but lights from Ely’s Place and the neighboring bars streamed across the roadway and pierced through the darkness of trees and underbrush on the other side. A dog yelped a short distance away. Lydia started to return to the table when the dog howled, and barked even louder. She was accustomed to strays along the beach. The dog barked again. It continued barking. Something was amiss.

  Lydia opened the iron gate with the key she always clipped to her belt. She often had to chase stray dogs away. They frequently invaded the garbage bins behind her bar and left the sand dunes and road littered with trash. As she opened the gate, she looked in the direction of the howling dog. The dog wasn’t a stray, and it wasn’t invading the garbage bins. It was locked inside a parked car just a few steps away from her iron gate.

  It was Fernando’s car. She recognized it immediately. The taped plastic was still intact, and Coco sat howling in the passenger’s seat, looking directly at her.

  -----О-----

  “Step on it,” demanded Esteban. He and Alexandra had sped towards Luquillo with lights and sirens blaring. Alexandra approached the closed parking lot for Luquillo’s main beach. The boom barrier guarding the entrance was composed of flimsy plastic. Without hesitating, Alexandra crashed through the plastic arm and raced through the main parking lot.

  The Detective’s cell phone rang as her car careened past the first empty parking spaces. She answered it. The caller ID identified the caller as Lydia Ortiz.

  “Lydia, this is Detective Vargas. What do you have?” Alexandra had instructed Titi to
contact Lydia earlier, and on the way over she had instructed Esteban to call Lydia as well. If Fernando showed up, she was to detain him until she and Esteban could arrive. She was hoping that Lydia had called to say that Fernando was finally making his alcapurria delivery.

  No such luck.

  “Fernando’s car is behind my bar. It’s empty except for his dog. I’m going to go find him. How far away are you?”

  “Please stay where you are Ms. Ortiz, I’m already here. We are dealing with a dangerous criminal, please wait for me, I’ll be there in two minutes.” Alexandra hung up the phone and threw her police cruiser into reverse. The car raced towards Ely’s Place, its blue lights flashing and siren blaring

  As they sped down the narrow neck separating the kiosks from the main parking lot, Fernando heard the siren from a short distance away.

  “Oops, looks like the cops got a live one,” he laughed.

  “Yeah, looks like.” Philip lifted himself from his partially seated position on the tree root.

  “Ever heard of the black cap?” Phillip inquired.

  Fernando admitted that he didn’t.

  “In her majesty’s court, it was the black square of cloth the judge used to pass the sentence of death. It was placed on their head like this.” Phillip withdrew the white handkerchief from his pocket and placed it on Fernando’s head. “When the criminals saw this, they knew they were about to die. They would drag ‘em back behind the old Bailey and just string ‘em up.” Phillip snorted and laughed an evil laugh. “No fuss, no muss. The aristocrats had to keep themselves safe from the filth.”

  “You know,” continued Philip, “I always have the last laugh. They thought all these years that I was not one of them. I showed them all,” he chuckled again. His snorting had stopped, and he was breathing deep raspy breaths.

  “They think that they can use my body. That I don’t notice. That I’m not smahtah than they are. They always thought that a Southie boy just wasn’t good enough for ‘em. They don’t mind stickin’ their dick in me. But I nevah got no dinnah invite. Well, I’m the one who is still standing. That is more than I can say for them.”

  “Phillip, what are you talking about. Who is ‘they’?” Fernando looked up at Phillip. Phillip was obviously suffering. Fernando would spend a few more minutes with him. Fernando hated to see anyone in pain.

  Philip stared back at him. “You are just like them. I saw you looking at that kid at Lila’s. You say you love me and then you go fuck the next thing you see. Typical.” Phillip silently wound the white cord behind his back, wrapping the loose end around his palm. His eyes remained focused on Fernando.

  “What kid are you talking about? Jesus, Phillip are you on drugs. I mean you aren’t making any sense. You know how I feel about drugs.” Fernando started to rise. He had heard just about enough of Philip’s incoherent angry accusations.

  “Sit down, Fernando.” Philip freed his hand and pushed Fernando roughly back to a seated position. “You want to know why you are here tonight?” Phillip demanded.

  “Yes, let me in on that secret.” Fernando was angry. He decided that being nice was not an option any longer. He simply wanted to get away from Phillip as quickly as possible.

  “You’re here because you did the same thing Paul did. And Alfred did. And that sick faggot you fucked from Lila’s did. And Ernesto did. And your precious Ricardo did. And Martin did. And my dad did. And the rest did.”

  “What did your dad do? I know he cut you off. But who are these other people?” Fernando started to get up again. He gathered the empty cans to stuff in the plastic bag. He was ready to leave.

  “My dad fucked me and threw me away just like the others!” Philip shouted. “And your precious Ricardo! He thought he could just skate away after embarrassing me at Lila’s. Staring at you, like I meant nothing. He thought he could embarrass me. ME! He was so easy.” Phillip continued babbling. “He actually thought I was into him when I turned up and hit his car. It was so easy to talk him into taking that walk to the beach alone. He had no clue. He was fucking clueless until the end. He died clueless, that stupid asshole. He was so fucking clueless! They were all clueless. They all think they are smahtah than me! I showed ‘em’. They were all as stupid as shit!”

  Fernando turned his head, his eyes wide with horror and realization.

  As he turned, his eyes grew even wider. Philip threw the polyester cord over Fernando’s head and drew the cord tight with all of his strength. Fernando dropped the empty beer cans in his hand and clawed at the rope around his neck. His feet kicked ineffectively against the sand. His eyes began to bulge as he gasped for air and struggled against the tight rope which was ripping through this throat. The cord burned and his head exploded in pain as blood pounded against his temples, begging for oxygen. He fought and struggled, but was unable to dislodge the rope’s tight grip.

  “Yeah, perv, die. You are a stupid spic. Well, I pass judgment on you. All you people who think you are bettah than me, I pass judgment on you!”

  -----О-----

  A hundred yards away, Alexandra was pulling the car up to the front entrance of Ely’s. Lydia had waved them towards the rear, and they found Coco in Fernando’s car, just as Lydia had described.

  Alexandra Vargas not just a good Detective, she was one of the best. Without pausing, she removed her handcuffs and used the ratchet teeth to rip away the plastic from the window. Coco, already barking angrily, bounced out of the car and streaked towards the beach. Alexandra ran after him, followed by Esteban and then Lydia.

  -----О-----

  Fernando’s body twitched in a final contortion. He could feel the last vestiges of life draining. He saw the last glimmer of light leave his mind. It was his mind’s reflection of the moonlight dancing on the quiet lagoon. His last thoughts would be of Puerto Rico. He had been lucky to have had a beautiful life in paradise. He would always be part of Puerto Rico now.

  As Fernando’s body grew still, Coco bounded from behind a grove of trees and sprinted across the sand. The dog plunged its fangs deep into Phillip’s neck. Blood spurted forth in gushes. Phillip shrieked in pain. He tried to pummel at Coco’s head, but Coco bit deeper into Phillip’s throat, refusing to let go. As Coco dragged Phillip off Fernando’s body, Phillip clawed at his throat, screaming in agony while Coco tossed him around on the sand like a rag doll, soaking the sand beneath in blood.

  Alexandra arrived next. She ignored the struggle going on between the dog and Phillip, and rolled Fernando over. Phillip had dropped the cord, releasing Fernando from its grasp. The other end of the cord was still tightly wrapped around one of Phillip’s hands as he struggled to escape Coco’s death grip.

  Alexandra felt Fernando for a pulse. In the background Phillip gurgled and whimpered. He gurgled once more, then all was silent. Coco slowly released the lifeless body and strode towards Fernando, his tail tucked between his legs. As Alexandra listened for a heartbeat and patted Fernando’s face to try to wake him, Coco licked his master’s motionless hand and whined.

  Then Coco howled. His long painful howl broke through the night’s stillness.

  Esteban pushed Alexandra out of the way and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He was a dockhand. Death by drowning was part of his reality. CPR training was second nature.

  “Fernando, no, please, breathe!” Esteban cried. He blew several breathes into Fernando’s mouth. He continued by pumping Fernando’s heart with deep steady pushes, and then returned to breathing air into Fernando’s lifeless mouth.

  “He can’t die”, Lydia tearfully whispered. She had just arrived to see the events unfold. “Please don’t let him die.”

  A cough and the sound of inhaling breath stopped her prayers. Esteban ceased his heart compressions. The body before them was no longer lifeless. Fernando’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Fernando. Fernando!” Esteban grabbed Fernando into his arms and hugged him tightly, gushing tears as he buried his face into Fernando’s chest.

  Coco yelped
and licked Fernando’s face.

  Fernando looked up, pale and shocked. Alexandra bent down and tussled Fernando’s hair back from his forehead. “You ok?” she asked.

  Fernando nodded and then managed a weak “Yes ma’am.”

  Lydia rushed to Fernando and patted his head. “Welcome back, kid.”

  After a bit, Alexandra and Lydia rose to give Esteban a moment with Fernando. Alexandra held out her hand. “I think I need a drink. Tell me, does your bar serve lesbian police detectives?”

  Lydia looked at Alexandra and laughed. “I knew it!”

  Behind them, Esteban clutched Fernando’s head to his chest. Fernando lifted his hand and stroked Esteban’s cheek. “You came.”

  Esteban returned Fernando’s caress and whispered.

  “Boomerang.”