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

  Esteban was grateful for the early afternoon cocktail. He had something to do later tonight, and a little afternoon buzz always made the day seem to go more quickly.

  “Thanks Danny. I almost forgot them. Your cocktails are deadly!”

  Danny grinned and returned to his work as Esteban hopped into his car and drove away.

  ‹15›

  Lydia Ortiz was sweeping Ficus leaves from the rear patio of Ely’s Place…again. It seemed all she did was sweep up those damned Ficus leaves. She noticed a figure moving around at the front of the restaurant, so she dropped the broom and headed to the front of the store. The leaves would be there later. “Those damn leaves are always going to be there’” she muttered to herself.

  At 10 a.m. it was her first customer of the day. She had been shaken deeply by the disturbing interview with Officer Vargas. Keeping busy, even sweeping up the cursed Ficus leaves, helped keep her anxiety level in check. As she passed through the restaurant section of the kiosk she looked around proudly, inspecting for dirt or sand on the spotless cement floor.

  Her kiosk was clean, ordered, spacious, but most importantly – it belonged to her. Her bar’s success had enabled her to invest in new fryers, new furniture, and heat lamps. The glistening new stainless and glass heated displays kept the fried alcapurrias and empanadas warm, but the warming unit was still empty this morning. She would fry the bacalao and tostones early, and then prepare the alcapurrias and empanadas to order for each customer. Her prized alcapurrias, a deep-fried meat wrapped in a crispy platano based batter, were the secret to success of Ely’s Place, thanks to the tasty weekly supply from her cousin Titi.

  The early customer leaned casually against the bar, waiting for service. He was well-built, bearded, muscular in his mid-20s, sporting sneakers and jeans. The pockmarks in his face didn’t detract from his attractive features. The beard helped to cover most of the deep pits on his otherwise attractive face.

  “Good morning!” Lydia welcomed him to the bar as she swung around behind it, wiping down the area in front of the customer. “What would you like?”

  “A Medalla is fine.”

  Lydia opened a can of beer for the customer, and pushed a menu in front of him. “Our alcapurrias are famous!” she exclaimed with a wink

  The customer grabbed the beer and smiled. “I know, that is why I came. I heard about them all the way in San Juan. The mother of a friend of mine makes them.”

  “You know Titi? Ah, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Lydia.”

  The customer smiled again. “I have never met Titi, but I know her son, though.”

  “Ah, Fernando!” Lydia exclaimed. “Lydia Ortiz.” She extended her hand.

  “Yes. Esteban. Esteban Arroyo.” He extended his hand to meet her handshake.

  The two chatted for another few minutes as Esteban finished one, then two medallas and gulped down two alcapurrias. “They are as good as I have heard.”

  “You’ve never had Titi’s alcapurrias before?” Lydia queried, sounding surprised.

  “No, like I said I don’t know his mother. I know him from La Placita in San Juan, but I’m not even sure where he lives. We have hung out in town but I haven’t seen him much lately. He is working a lot at that new job.” Esteban Arroyo remembered how proud Fernando was of his new job. He recalled enough information from their brief encounter in La Placita to convince Lydia that he and Fernando had been long-time friends.

  Lydia beamed a smile as she changed out the damp cocktail napkin from under Fernando’s Medalla. “Ah, yes. His mom is so proud of him. Hey, we are planning a parranda and ending up at his house on December 13,” she quipped with a sly smile.

  Parrandas in Puerto Rico are social events, roving Christmas carolers who hop from house to house. It is the only time of the year when strangers are invited in to homes to share in Christmas season festivities. The event is technically supposed to be a “surprise”. A large group of friends, Christmas carolers with musical instruments, descend upon homes starting at midnight and “wake” the inhabitants with song. As a courtesy, the promise of a parranda is often hinted at beforehand, although the hosts are never expressly told that they will be feted by a parranda. Once the caroling is finished, the carolers are invited inside where magically a table of food and cocktails is waiting, already prepared. Then they move on to the next house, and so on, until the wee hours of the morning.

  Esteban grinned widely. This opportunity would never present itself again.

  “Oh, that sounds like fun. When and where?” Getting Fernando’s home address was turning out to be easier than Esteban had thought.

  “Yeah, Titi and I are cousins. His father is very well-respected. They raised a good kid. You see so many other kids these days going bad, but Fernando has a good future in front of him. Stay away from the drugs, they are destroying your generation, young man. I don’t know what is happening to Puerto Rico these days.” Lydia shook her head and ducked beneath the bar to retrieve bar glasses. She began wiping them and replacing them with firm thuds back onto the shelf, as if stating that the old ways still held sway.

  Esteban smiled again and rapped the bar in front of Lydia for another Medalla. “So where are we meeting for the parranda?”

  Lydia raised her hands as if to apologizing for forgetting that important detail.

  “We are meeting at my aunt Milagro’s house and ending up at Titi’s. We are starting around 10. It’s Number 8 Calle Guayaba, over in Rio Grande. It’s the pink house, just off Marginal Road.”

  Esteban mentally made a note.

  “Oh, on December 13”, continued Lydia. “Tuesday”.

  Ten o’clock in Puerto Rico time actually meant that the kick-off was around midnight. In Puerto Rico, two hours are routinely added to appointments for social gatherings, so arriving exactly at ten would be deemed rude. The hosts would not even be ready for guests yet.

  “See you then!” Esteban chatted a bit longer with Lydia, finished his Medalla, and left the bar. Lydia turned around to face the dining area. “Where was that dust bunny I just saw?” she muttered as she grabbed the dustpan and went back to scrubbing the bar.

  ‹16›

  It was a bright winter afternoon in San Juan. The temperatures were a comfortably-dry eighty-two degrees. Phillip and Fernando had eaten out the night before. At Fernando’s insistence, he had treated Phillip to a meal which included something called ‘risotto’. Dining out with Phillip was an experience for Fernando. He had never eaten some of the foods he had been introduced to by Phillip. Last night’s meal had been a little expensive for Fernando. Although he earned fifteen dollars an hour, a dinner tab of ninety dollars between food and drinks was the equivalent of more than a day’s pay for him. He realized that Phillip was accustomed to a more expensive lifestyle, however, and since he had no bills to cover except for his cell phone and a car payment, he could afford to splurge. He hoped that today’s lunch would be much cheaper. He doubted it, though. They were dining under the Conch Shell in La Concha Hotel. Their entrees had been well over twenty dollars each, and that was before the wine was included.

  “So, no word from your dad?” Fernando asked. Phillip had just been griping about the silence emanating from Boston.

  “No, no word. I doubt there will be.”

  Fernando had been holding off on asking Phillip about the drug issue, but after a heavy meal and two glasses of wine, he decided to plunge forward. He cared for Phillip, and wanted to let Phillip know that he would help him out financially as much as he could. He would not, however, support a drug habit. Fernando hadn’t grown up on the streets, but many of his school friends had. They had all turned out to be drug dealers, drug addicts, in prison, or dead. He hoped against hope that Esteban’s suspicions were wrong.

  “Phillip, I have a question to ask you. I don’t want you to get mad, but I need the truth. I’ve been putting off asking you this since you were having a problem with your dad, but I have to know. Are you doing drugs?”

>   Phillip nearly spit out the Chablis he was sipping when he heard the question. “Drugs? Seriously? Look around you Fernando. My type doesn’t use drugs. That is something people from bad neighborhoods do. Who do you think I am? Really, Fernando. Whatever prompted that question from you?” Phillip smiled at Fernando, shaking his in mimicked disbelief.

  “Waiter, another carafe,” announced Phillip, waving his emptied Chablis glass at the nearest server.

  “I am so glad you said that. I knew better. When Esteban said that I knew he was wrong. I mean, you don’t do that stuff. You are an American, after all.” Fernando finished the last sip of his wine. If another carafe of wine was coming, and if he was paying for it, he wanted to enjoy it.

  “Who is Esteban?” Phillip’s face suddenly became stern.

  “Oh, no one, someone I met at Lila’s. It was that night you walked out. I was upset, I didn’t understand why you were so mad.”

  “Fernando, I do not know anything about drugs. And I don’t like you talking about me behind my back.” Phillip’s stern face hadn’t changed. In fact, his face had become darker. It was the same look he had given Fernando at Lila’s when he stormed away.

  “I wasn’t talking about you. I promise.” Fernando knew that look. He knew that Phillip’s mood had changed. He was afraid of what was coming next.

  He continued. “The guy just saw you and I fighting and came over to see if everything was all right. It was no big deal.” As Fernando feared, Phillip’s anger was visibly growing. They had just spent a beautiful evening at the restaurant the night before, and the lunch today had been very pleasant. He knew he needed to dissipate Phillip’s anger quickly.

  “Look, let’s go to the gay beach after this. I brought my swim trunks, you can run and get yours, it’s just across the street. We can walk down and say ‘hello’ to everyone. Look, the beach is packed today!”

  Phillip’s face softened slightly, obviously mollified by Fernando’s attempt to de-escalate the situation.

  “Let’s do that.” Phillip smiled a half-smile and poured himself a fresh glass of wine from the newly arrived carafe.

  “Cheers, Phillip.” Fernando raised his glass for a toast.

  As they finished the last bit of wine, Fernando signaled for the tab. He noticed a drip sliding from the side of Philip’s mouth. He reached toward Phillip’s mouth with his napkin. Phillip retracted in horror, his eyes narrowing into a dagger-like stare.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I was wiping a drip from your mouth. Here, you can wipe it if you would like.”

  “Don’t’ you realize where we are?” Phillip’s eyes opened and narrowed again as he threw his own napkin to the table. “This is not one of your tacky gay bars. This is where we dine. You do not behave like that in these types of places!” Phillip’s voice rose to a shriek.

  “I’m sorry”, Fernando managed to mutter, shocked at Phillip’s harsh reaction. “I just thought you didn’t want to have food dribbling is all.”

  “You just ruined it, Fernando. I can’t take you anywhere nice. You always just ruin things!”

  With that Phillip jumped from his chair, slammed it tightly back beneath the table, and strode towards the door leaving Fernando staring in his wake.

  Fernando remained at the table. He signaled the waiter and asked for a Medalla. Phillip had earlier forbidden him from ordering a beer, stating flatly that beer did not pair with anything but truck food. As Fernando gulped his beer silently, his eyes started to water.

  “Not this time”, he silently told himself. “No more tears”.

  ‹17›

  Less than eight hours later, Fernando and Phillip were huddled together leaning against the pillar at Lila’s. It was the same pillar where they had first met. Phillip was pressed up against Fernando.

  After he had stormed out of La Concha, Phillip called Fernando a half hour later. Fernando didn’t answer the first call, nor the second, but after four consecutive calls he finally picked up. Phillip had apologized and asked, for “old times’ sake”, to meet Fernando at Lila’s.

  Upon arrival Phillip had cajoled and apologized repeatedly. He approached Danny and ordered a gin and tonic and Medalla and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill dollar bill.

  “This is all the money I have in the world. But I want to treat you this time.” Fernando smiled and accepted his Medalla, and signaled to Danny for another round.

  Danny scowled, wiped his bar, and muttered to himself as he prepared a second round of drinks. Fernando just wanted to get drunk. Phillip had torn a hole in his heart at the hotel. But Fernando was quick to forgive. Phillip had held Fernando tightly and apologized again for his attitude at the restaurant. Being so near to Phillip melted Fernando’s earlier resolve that the two of them were finished. He had not defenses against Phillip’s charm, as he was finally admitting it to himself.

  “I am just under so much stress you know,” apologized Phillip again.

  Fernando knew that Phillip was under stress. For the first time in his life, he was responsible for paying his own telephone bill, paying for his own groceries, paying for electricity, paying the water...

  Fernando turned to him. “I understand. But you can’t snap back at the people who love you.”

  “It’s my fault. I’ve never had to live like this. And you are completely right, I am completely wrong.” Phillip pulled out his cell phone.

  “I’ve never had to even worry about this, but I got a message from Sprint that my bill is overdue. I won’t even have a telephone the day after tomorrow.” Phillip collapsed back into his chair. He and laid his head down on his arms on top of the table in front of Fernando.

  Fernando paid Danny, threw in a couple of quarters, and then threw in two more. He patted Phillip’s shoulder and signaled for him to follow. The two marched to a bank machine adjacent to Lila’s. Fernando inserted his card and drew out $200. He curled Phillip’s hand around the money and leaned over and kissed his forehead.

  The two returned to the inside of Lila’s and Fernando ordered two chichaito shots. After downing his shot Fernando looked at Phillip. “I can help you with groceries. Just call me if you need anything else.”

  Phillip planted a deep kiss on Fernando’s mouth. Fernando laughed and embraced Phillip as Danny pointed to the empty shot glasses, questioning whether they wanted another round. Fernando nodded ‘yes’. He chatted with Danny for a few minutes as customers clamored for the bartender’s attention.

  When he turned around to rejoin Phillip and hand him his drink, Philip was gone. Fernando sat the cocktail on the bar and resumed his spot at the base of the pillar, patiently waiting for his partner to rejoin him. He assumed Phillip had gone to the bathroom.

  As Fernando quietly sipped his beer waiting for Phillip, a block away, Ricardo Herger was pulling into a parking space on Calle Ponce de Leon. The mall event for the Senator had been a huge success, and the politician’s war chest was $6,000 fuller. The Senator had been profuse in his gratitude to Ricardo, strutting the young man around like new prized pony. Ricardo already knew many of the major players among local business owners and landed families, but today he had made acquaintances with an entirely new set of political contacts who had trekked from San Juan to Manati. It was customary, even mandatory, for politicians to attend and support fellow party members. Senator Ocasio of Humacao was searching for Senate support on his bill to allocate a million dollars for the construction of yet another sports stadium, the third in his district. He was making the fundraising rounds to shore up votes in support. Senator Menendez was engaged in a long-term bid for the senate presidency, and Emilio Lopez was running for his first election to be the Representative from Ciales. There were a handful of other politicians and political hacks, all gathered around the brimming trough of political favors which define Puerto Rico’s sordid political arena.

  Ricardo had decided earlier that day to treat to himself to a personal reward for the hard work he had put in. His reward was pretty str
aightforward – he wanted a blow job. Ricardo had learned about Lila’s from the gay liaison to Senator Rios, Manuel Antonio. The two had gone to high school together. Manuel, like most Puerto Rican men, had few hang-ups when it came to sex. Ricardo and Manuel had been playing around since grade school. And both had dabbled with other men throughout their lives. Ricardo had dated several women, and was equally happy with either sex.

  Lila’s was located in La Placita. Gay and straight worlds mixed freely at La Placita. Which is why Ricardo chose Lila’s. Entry into Lila’s didn’t invite stigma, unlike the other gay bars in San Juan. For closeted gays and for horny omnisexual predators like Ricardo, Lila’s was the perfect cover. If anyone were seen there, they could simply be a visitor to La Placita who popped in to Lila’s for a drink.

  At around eight o’clock, Ricardo entered Lila’s. He immediately began taking stock of the available options. He knew better than to spend a prolonged amount of time there. Although not well known in San Juan, it was not impossible that he would be recognized by a constituent who had travelled from the central part of the island. He would make one pass through, decide which man he wanted for the night, order a drink, and make his move. Ricardo’s background and professional life had trained him to be bold, decisive, amiable, and persuasive. Picking up a gay man for a blowjob would be easy.

  As he passed by the central column he noticed a handsome dark-haired patron with a toned body and a tight midsection. The patron stood relaxed against the column sipping a Medalla. Ricardo didn’t bother making the round to order his cocktail first. He strode directly up to the man leaning against the column, and extended his hand. The predator was no longer hunting, he had pounced.

  “Hi, name is Ricardo. What’s yours?”

  Fernando smiled and extended his hand. He’d become accustomed to strangers introducing themselves. The perpetual bulge of his eight-inch cock made him an object of admiration. Fernando genuinely enjoined meeting new people, and the gracious way he maneuvered conversations away from sexual overtones to deeper, more personal matters made him even more attractive.