Salvation in Death (30 page)

She got coffee, sat, and as she read made notes of the names of the investigating officers, the witnesses, the victims, the fatalities.

She stopped on Lino’s name, saw the notation that the subject could not be located, and the statement from Teresa about him leaving town two days prior. A statement corroborated by others. Including Penny Soto.

Joe Inez had been questioned and released, alibied up tight. And he, too, had corroborated Teresa’s statement regarding Lino. The investigators had canvassed the neighborhoods, hit all of Lino’s and Chávez’s known haunts, followed up at transpo stations. Lino had gone into the wind—and reading between the lines of the detective’s report, he hadn’t believed Lino had blown prior to the incident.

“Hey, me either,” Eve concurred. She took what she had and headed out to take a swing at Penny.

The lawyer wore a chunk of gold the size of home plate on the middle finger of his right hand, and a suit the color of radioactive limes. There was enough oil in his hair to fry a small army of chickens, and his teeth were a blinding white gleam.

Eve thought:
Do you actually want to be a cliché?

He got out of his chair when she entered and rose to his full five feet, five inches. And an inch of that came from the heels of his snake-patterned boots.

“My client’s waited over two hours,” he began, “and nearly all of that without benefit of legal counsel.”

“Uh-huh.” Eve sat down, opened her file. “Your legal counsel, which I assume is this.” Eve glanced up at the lawyer. “Should be aware that two hours is well within the reasonable time frame, and that you haven’t been questioned since you requested counsel. Therefore, he should sit down so we don’t waste any more time. Record on.” She read off the salients, cocked her brow at the lawyer. “Ms. Soto is represented by?”

“Carlos Montoya.”

“Who is present. Mr. Montoya, did you present your identification and license to practice for scan?”

“I did.”

“Good. Ms. Soto, you’ve been read your rights, and have stated you understand them, and your obligations in this matter.”

“It’s all shit.”

“But you understand all the shit?”

Penny shrugged. “I understand fine, just like I understand me and my lawyer are going to sue your ass for false arrest.”

“Won’t that be fun? You’re charged with assaulting an officer, which includes assault with a weapon and resisting arrest.”

“I never touched you.”

“As the touchee, I beg to differ. However, I’d be willing to negotiate those charges if you find yourself now willing and able to answer questions regarding Lino Martinez, and events pertaining to him.”

“I told you already, I haven’t seen Lino since I was fifteen.”

“You lied.”

“My client—”

“Is a liar, but you probably get that a lot. Me, too. The body of Lino Martinez has been officially identified. We are aware he posed as one Father Miguel Flores for a period of more than five years, and frequented the bodega where you work. We are aware of your previous relationship. You want to keep insisting you didn’t know, then we’ll stick with the assault and resisting, and given your record, you’ll be doing a little time in a cage.”

Eve closed the file, started to rise.

“I’m not doing time for knocking your hand away when you went to grab me.”

“Oh yeah, you are, and for pulling a knife, for spitting in my face, and resisting. And since you don’t know me, let me point out to you—and your counsel—that if you had even one private conversation with Lino Martinez, met him anywhere, any time outside the bodega, I’m going to find out. Then I’m going to knock you back for making a false statement—and I’m going to start wondering if you got your hands on some cyanide, then—”

“This is bullshit.”

Eve only smiled, turned for the door.

“Wait a damn minute. I want to talk to my lawyer before I say another thing.”

“Pause record. I’ll just step out so you two can chat.”

Eve left them, considered risking Vending for a tube of Pepsi, but decided it wasn’t going to take that long. Inside three minutes, Montoya came to the door.

“My client may be willing to amend her statement.”

“Okeydokey.” Eve stepped back in, sat, smiled, folded her hands. “Resume record.” Waited.

“If my client addresses your questions regarding Lino Martinez, you will drop the charges currently against her.”

“If she answers truthfully, to my satisfaction, she gets a pass on the charges.”

“Go ahead, Penny.”

“Maybe I kinda had this feeling, this vibe, you know, when he started coming in. He didn’t look like Lino, or not a lot. But there was something. And after a while, maybe we flirted some. Weird, him being a priest, and I don’t like the holier-than-thou types. But Lino and I, we always had something. We made it a lot back in the day, and I kept getting this buzz from him.”

“Did you start banging before or after you knew who he was?”

Penny smirked. “Before. I think he got off on it. Maybe I did, too. Back room of the bodega, after closing. Man, he
hammered
me. Pent up, you know? Had to figure it was all that celibacy song. Couple times after, we’d meet at this flop a friend of mine has. She works nights. Or we’d use a rent-by-the-hour. Then this one time, after we’d made it, he tells me. We had a big laugh.”

“Did he tell you what happened to Father Flores?”

“What did I care? How’m I supposed to know there ever was one?”

“Why was he masquerading as a priest?”

“He wanted to come back, lay low. He liked people looking at him like he was a big deal, he liked the respect.”

“Five years, Penny. Don’t string me. What was the angle?”

“He liked the secrets, too, the sins. He used them when he could, when he wanted.”

“Blackmail?”

“He had some ready, sure. More than a priest earns. When he was in the mood, he’d get us a room at a fancy hotel, and we’d order room service and shit. Paid cash.”

“Did he buy you things?”

“Sure.” She flipped her finger at one of her earrings. “Lino wasn’t stingy.”

“He trusted you a lot.”

“Lino and I went back, all the way back. We needed each other. That’s what this is about.” She slapped her palm on her tattoo. “This is family, and it’s protection. My mother was useless, more interested in her next fix than me. More interested in that than stopping my old man from moving on me. Barely twelve years old the first time he raped me. Slapped me around good, too, and he tells me I’ll keep my mouth shut about it, and he won’t slap me around next time. Kept it shut for two years before I couldn’t take it anymore. I joined the Soldados, and I got family.”

“Your data states that your father was killed when you were fourteen. Stabbed. Cut to pieces.”

“No loss.”

“Did you kill him?”

“My client’s not going to answer that. Don’t answer that, Penny.”

Penny only smiled, rubbed a fingertip on her kill mark.

“You and Lino,” Eve concluded. “Makes a hell of a bond. And two years later, he’s smoke. Gone.”

“Nothing lasts forever.”

“Were you in on the planning of the Skull bombing?”

“My—”

Penny held up a finger to stop her lawyer. “Questioned and released, a long time ago. Nobody ever proved that was Soldado work.”

“People died.”

“Happens every day.”

“Lino planned it. He was one of the leaders, and he had the skills.”

“I guess you’ll never know, seeing as he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he’s dead. You’re not. And your legal counsel will tell you there’s no statute of limitations on murder.”

“You can’t hang it on me now any more than they could then.”

“What was Lino waiting for? When was payday, Penny?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her eyes skittered away. “He’s dead, so I guess we can’t ask him.”

“Where’s Steve Chávez?”

“Don’t know. Can’t say.” She yawned. “We done?”

“Lino was marking time, picking up some grease along the way so he could show off, live high, then duck back under the collar. A man doesn’t do that for five years so he can bang an old girlfriend.”

“He loved me. We used to talk about taking off, making a big score, and coming back riding high. Never worked out, but he came back.”

“Do you have an alibi for the day of his death?”

“I opened the bodega at six A.M., along with Rosita. We did the prep, and worked the breakfast counter for three hours straight. Around ten, Pep and I—stock boy—took our break together in the back room, then I was back on the counter when the first cops came in asking questions. And I heard he was dead.”

“What did you do then?”

“Worked my shift, went home. What was I supposed to do?”

“All right. You’re free to go.”

“About damn time.”

Eve waited until they’d left the room. She sat alone, in silence another full minute. “Record off,” she said.

When she was back in her office, standing, staring out the tiny window, Peabody came in.

“Any luck with Penny?”

“Yeah. A twisted mix of lies and truth. More lies than, but enough truth to get a picture. She claims she doesn’t know what happened to the real Flores—lie. That she doesn’t know what Lino was waiting for here—lie. She admits no knowledge of the bombing. Not a lie, more a ‘Prove it, bitch.’ Same with Chávez’s whereabouts. She said Lino loved her. I think that’s truth, or she believes it to be. She never said she loved him. If she had, it would’ve been a lie. But she had been banging him for the past few years.”

“If they’ve been having it on for that long, he told her what he was up to.”

“Yeah. I think he may have helped her kill the first time, earn her mark—maybe they earned them together as the timing jibes with Teresa’s statement. Her father. He’d been sexually abusing her. She had enough. They cut him up.”

“She admitted—”

“No. She admitted the abuse, and that was truth. She admitted she’d joined the gang at fourteen to escape it, to make family, for protection. Her father was found hacked to pieces in an abandoned building when she was fourteen. He was a known dealer, and the cops put it down to an illegals deal gone bad. Probably didn’t work it very hard. Why bother? She and Lino would’ve been covered for it anyway. Others in the gang would’ve alibied them, or threatened someone else into it.”

She heard Peabody close the office door, turned.

“Are you doing okay?” Peabody asked.

“Yes.” Eve walked to the AutoChef, programmed coffee. “Let’s keep going. We’re going to want to dig back into that case file. I’ve got the case files for the bombings, and we’ll need to reach out to the investigators. I need to put some pressure on Penny. More pressure than a couple months in over slapping at a cop.”

“Do you think she killed Lino?”

“We’ll check her alibi, but I bet it’s nice and tight. She had it ready for me, and on a platter. No, she’s the hothead. I don’t think she did the kill. But I think she’s connected. At the very least she knows who did.”

“Maybe they had a fight. Lovers’ tangle.”

“Maybe. I can’t see her going five years without getting pissed off at a lover. Or being exclusive,” she said slowly, and handed one of the coffee mugs to Peabody. “Let’s find out if she was banging anybody else besides Lino. Lino used his confessional privileges to blackmail when it suited him. Can’t see him hitting up for nickels. So we see who’d use the church who had enough to make paying for sin worthwhile. And we need full information on the victims and fatalities of the restaurant bombing.”

“You know how I said I thought it was starting to fall into place? Now it feels like it’s spreading out all over.”

“Just more pieces. They’re going to fall somewhere. Let’s start with the bombings, work forward. The primary investigator’s still on the job. Contact Detective Stuben, out of the Four-six. See if he and/or his old partner have time for a sit-down.”

“Okay. Dallas.” She wanted to say more, it was all over her face. The need to comfort or reassure.