January Justice Part 40

I said, "Raise it even slightly, and you're dead. Just open your fingers and let it fall."

His eyes were focused on the small hole at the end of my M9's barrel as he did exactly what I said. I stepped back out of his reach and said, "Kick it toward me."

As his foot sent the weapon sliding across the plywood floor, I heard a woman cursing his stupidity. Looking past him, I saw Olivia. She had been strapped in a standing position to a folding ladder with masking tape at her ankles, waist, and chest. The legs of the ladder had been bolted to the floor. Her head was bowed, and her long black hair hung loosely down, obscuring her face. Her arms hung loosely at her sides, and both of her hands were covered with blood. It dripped freely from her fingers into twin pools on the floor beside her feet.

Standing beside Olivia, holding a b.l.o.o.d.y knife, was her torturer. With my M9 leveled at Medallion, I said, "Move away from her, Dona Elena."

Instead of moving away, Dona Elena Montes stepped behind the ladder where she had bound Olivia and laid the knife's edge against the carotid artery in Olivia's neck.

I pointed the M9 toward her. "Don't be ridiculous," I said. "If I fire from here, there's no way I could miss."

"Maybe," said the movie star. "Or maybe you'll hit your girlfriend by accident. And even if you hit me, there's no way I won't cut her on my way down."

It was probably true. I glanced around the room. A pair of cots with sleeping bags had been moved into the shack, and along one wall stood a large ice chest and some cardboard boxes filled with groceries. A butane camping lantern on a folding table cast the only light across the room. They must have visited the shack earlier to prepare it, bringing up camping gear and food. It explained the muddy Navigator.

I said, "Are you planning on a long stay?"

"As long as it takes. Drop your gun, or I'll slice her pretty neck."

"Do that and there won't be anything to stop me from firing."

Medallion lunged toward me. I spun and shot him in the gut. He fell to the floor with a groan.

When I turned back toward Dona Elena, she was smiling at me beautifully. There was a small splatter of Olivia's blood on her forehead. She tucked herself more carefully behind Olivia and said, "It seems we have a stalemate."

With Medallion on the floor, I lowered my weapon, hoping it would make Dona Elena careless.

She said, "I thought the police arrested you."

"They did."

She glanced between the ladder rungs toward Medallion, then back up at me.

I said, "If you're hoping Special Agent Nunez will come to the rescue, forget it. I took him out on my way up here."

Lowering my weapon had worked. She exposed more of her face to me, peering over Olivia's shoulder and thrusting out her lower lip to pout while she still held the knife at Olivia's throat.

Her voice changed, became younger, like a little girl's. "I need someone to help me, Malcolm. Someone who can take care of me. Finish that one off and go kill the other one. I'll kill her. We can go away together. Rio. Buenos Aires. Paris. Anywhere you want. I have a lot of money, Malcolm. Millions and millions. I'll share it all with you. I just need somebody big and strong and smart to tell me what to do."

"You kill too many people. Those two cops were walking away. You could have let them live."

"But they recognized me, silly. Everybody recognizes me."

"Olivia," I said, "can you hear me?"

Olivia's head hung loosely, but she nodded just a little.

"Did you tell her where the money is?"

She shook her head, and a wave of relief pa.s.sed over me.

I said, "Way to go."

"That's enough!" screamed Dona Elena. "Shut up or I'll slice her!"

"You won't do that," I said. "She's the only link you have to the money."

She screamed at the top of her lungs. "You think I can't get my money back without her? You think I'm too stupid to do that?"

She was slipping into some kind of psychosis. I recognized the symptoms well, having seen them in my own mirror. It meant Olivia wasn't safe, even though killing her would mean Dona Elena wouldn't get her money. I had to distract the woman.

I said, "Of course I don't think you're stupid. You fooled everyone. Arturo, Alejandra, the police, the congressman, the press. I think you play the s.e.x-symbol airhead role so well, people almost always underestimate you. But I also think Olivia is smart enough to hide that money where you'd never find it."

Dona Elena went back to her little girl voice. "I'll bet you know where it is. I'll bet you could help me. If you did, I'd be very grateful."

"Maybe we can work something out. Why don't you tell me how you got the money in the first place?"

"Oh, that's such an old, boring story. Let's not dwell on the past."

"When Arturo told you he had hired Alejandra from the travel agency to be his personal a.s.sistant, you suspected something. You were smarter than he was. That's why you looked into her background."

Dona Elena said, "You don't know anything about it."

"I think I do," I said. "I think you did what Arturo should have done. You were so much smarter than he was. You had Alejandra checked out. You found out she was from Coban, and her father was one of the disappeared."

"You think you understand me? You're pathetic, just like every other man."

"Are you saying you didn't run a background check on her?"

"Of course I did."

"And then what happened?"

"You're so smart. You tell me."

"Okay. I figure Arturo never admitted he had left Guatemala with a fortune, not even to you. All those millions, and he wouldn't even tell you, his own wife, that he really had the money. I think you had a right to that money. Or at least half of it. I think that's all you really wanted. Just your fair share, right? But he wouldn't give it to you, even though half of it was really yours. Isn't that how it was?"

"It wasn't right," said the actress.

"Of course not. Anyone could see that. So you had to do something. But you were too smart to make a move without a solid alibi. Then along came Alejandra. When you learned about her father, and you realized she was really there to get proof against Arturo, you decided you had the perfect patsy. After all, she had every reason to hate him."

Dona Elena smiled at that. It was a wicked thing to see, easily as evil as any atrocity I had seen in war, precisely because it was so beautiful.

I said, "You became Alejandra's friend. You're irresistible, after all. You probably told her that your husband was abusive. It would fit her preconceptions of Arturo's nature and inspire sympathy for you. Or maybe you did it some other way. But somehow you gained her confidence, got her to tell you about her father's disappearance and admit she was there to try to find proof that Arturo stole money from the disappeared. You said you sympathized. You wanted to help her prove the truth about Arturo's role in the genocide. You said you would help her get justice for the disappeared of Guatemala. Am I right?"

"Not completely," said the woman. "But you're not a bad guesser."

I stood with my weapon hanging at my side, hoping she might forget about it. I said, "Thank you. I'm just trying to think what an intelligent person would do in your position. I know how smart you are. I even think you managed it so Alejandra believed she was helping you come up with the plan. Maybe you even made it seem like the plan was all hers. One way or another, after you and Alejandra became partners against your husband, you came up with the fake kidnapping idea. How am I doing?"

"It's a good story," said Dona Elena from her hiding place behind Olivia. "But shouldn't we get back to what a big strong man like you can do with a lonely girl like me and all that lovely money?"

"What about your husband?"

"He's not here, silly. But you are."

"Yes I am, and I want to hear all about how you tricked everyone."

"Oh, that was easy," she said. "I told that stupid Alejandra how we could make Arturo admit he had the money. I told her he would give it up for me. Alejandra was always talking about her husband, how he loved her and would do anything for her, so it wasn't hard to make her believe Arturo would give up everything for me."

Strapped to the ladder with her head still hanging down, Olivia rolled her eyes up to look at me through the tangled black curtain of her hair. There was more than pain in her eyes. There was something fierce and merciless.

Dona Elena said, "I told her all we had to do was tape some scenes and pretend I had been kidnapped, and Arturo would agree to pay the millions, and then we could expose him for the animal he was. So we came up here one morning and made a little set. It was like a play, with me as the helpless victim and Alejandra as the nasty terrorist. We giggled a lot when we were off camera. She said it was an honor to work with such a talented star, and I told her she should get an Oscar."

"But you changed the script," I said. "When it came time to make your ransom demands at the end of the last video, you dropped the amount and insisted your husband had to deliver it himself."

"Of course," said Dona Elena, adjusting her hold on the knife at Olivia's throat. "To get that silly woman up here, I had to tell her we would force Arturo to try to wire ten million to a fake account, just so the authorities would see he had all that money. But I knew Arturo would never admit he had that much, not even for me, so I went off script in the last video and only asked for two hundred thousand."

I said, "In that final video, Alejandra says, 'You weren't supposed-' Then she's cut off. She was saying you weren't supposed to tell Arturo to bring the money, right? And you weren't supposed to ask for just two hundred thousand?"

"Of course. She said two hundred thousand wasn't nearly enough to make Arturo out to be the monster she thought he was. Oh, that stupid little woman. She actually thought all I ever planned to do was get Arturo to admit he had the money." Dona Elena's laughter had all the humor of a swarm of locusts.

The knife had drawn more blood from Olivia neck. Just another fraction of an inch, and the jugular would be severed. I had to say something to distract Dona Elena. All I could think of was the awful truth.

I said, "How did it go after that? Did you let Alejandra watch you torture Arturo until he told you where the money was? Did you let her see you kill him? Did you tell her you were going to put the blame on her while you marched her out, shot her in the head and rolled her into some deep hole up there in the rocks?"

Olivia let out a moan. It wasn't a sound driven by pain. It was the first rumblings of volcanic rage.

Dona Elena didn't understand. She said, "Shut up, or I'll cut your hands some more."

Olivia only moaned louder. She pressed her neck forward against the knife, forcing the blade to dig deeper. Blood began to trickle down. Dona Elena pulled back a fraction. "Oh, no, you don't. Not until I know where you put the money."

But Olivia didn't stop. She pressed her head and neck forward and then pulled back and then pressed forward again, forcing Dona Elena to move with her to keep the knife pressed against her neck without slitting through her artery. Olivia cursed Dona Elena in Spanish, flinging filthy words at her, daring her to cut. Then Olivia screamed, "What are you waiting for! Shoot her! SHOOT HER!"

Dona Elena's nostrils flared. I saw her lift her elbow to get leverage and knew what she was about to do. Although she was behind Olivia, and although I had only an inch or so for error, I knew I had to take the shot.

The bullet drove the madwoman back against the wall. The knife dropped harmlessly into the pool of blood at Olivia's feet. Later I would learn from the police that Dona Elena fell in exactly the same place where they had found Toledo's body seven years before.

50.

I cut Olivia down and helped her to one of the cots, where she sat stoically while I did my best to tend to her hands and neck, staunching the blood flow with paper towels, which I secured in place with the same duct tape they had used to bind her to the ladder.

"She never meant to leave us," said Olivia.

"No," I said, "she never did."

"She only wanted justice for her family."

I said, "Yes."

Olivia sat perfectly still as tears flowed from her eyes.

I wanted to hold her, but across the room, Medallion began to moan. I went to him. He had lost a lot of blood. There was no fight left in him, and very little hope. A gut wound like his had to be treated almost immediately, but there was no cell-phone service that high in the mountains, and no way for me to get him to a hospital in less than an hour. Still, I did my best, rolling him onto his side, cutting away his shirt, and using it to press into the ugly exit wound to try to stanch the blood. As I had with Olivia, I used the tape to hold the shirt in place. Since the entrance wound in front was barely bleeding, I spent no time on that.

I removed his wallet and found his DEA identification card. His name was Donald Ortiz. I searched his front pockets and found the keys to the Navigator. I also found the little computer chip he had removed from the patrol car, which contained the video of him and his partner murdering the two patrolmen.

I leaned close to his ear and said, "Ortiz? Can you hear me?"

His eyes didn't open, but he nodded slightly.

"I'm doing my best for you, but I need to know something. Can you still hear me?"

Again, a little nod.

"The bomb," I said. "Did you guys contract with Jawarski for the bomb?"

At first I thought he had lost consciousness, but then I saw his lips were moving. I leaned closer. His voice was a mere whisper. "What bomb?"

I sat back and wondered how much Dona Elena had promised the two agents, what it took to turn them. Had it been only money, or had she also offered them what millions of men had l.u.s.ted for on the silver screen?

I took his empty holster and clipped it to my belt beside my own weapon. I said, "Ortiz. I'll send help as fast as I can."

I helped Olivia stand up. On the way out the door, I picked up Ortiz's M9, slipped the safety on, and put it in the holster. I also took a roll of tape.

Outside in the rain, Olivia was as tough as any marine. She walked down the hill under her own power. She held her hands up at chest height to reduce the bleeding. She never complained and never used me for support.

I paused at the boulder where I had hidden the other agent's gun. I removed it and stuck it in my hip pocket. So I had two M9s and an M11 on me. A walking a.r.s.enal.

When we reached the side trail up to the ledge where I had left Nunez, I asked Olivia to wait. I climbed up and found him lying exactly as he was before, totally drenched and still unconscious. It was hard to believe, but only thirty minutes had pa.s.sed.

I used the tape to further secure his hands and feet, and I left him there. It crossed my mind that he might have a problem with coyotes, but I couldn't carry him, and I really didn't care.

We got to the Navigator and drove down off the mountain.

As soon as I had a cell-phone signal, I called Harper. Of course, the LAPD had called him after I gave them his name, so he already knew the Venice situation. I explained my side of things, told him I had video to prove I hadn't killed the two policemen, and arranged to surrender myself to him at the Kaiser Permanente emergency room on the 5, which was the closest hospital to the Ortega Highway. In case the word of my innocence didn't get out fast enough, I asked him not to notify the LAPD until I was already in his custody. He agreed my chances of surviving the arrest would be much better that way.

I spent most of the next three days in various interrogation rooms in Orange County and LA. One does not witness the murder of two policemen, a.s.sault two DEA agents, and kill a US congressman's wife without spending a few days answering the same questions over and over. Teru showed up about two hours into the first round of interrogation, announced he was my attorney, and demanded to be present during questioning.

Even with the patrol car's dashboard video, and even with Teru at my side, it did not look good at first. I was already under indictment for the home invasion at Dona Elena's place, and Olivia Delarosa admitted she had been working for Dona Elena while using an a.s.sumed name. Now the woman whose home I had allegedly invaded, the woman Olivia had deceived, the woman Olivia's mother had allegedly kidnapped, was dead by my hand, and Olivia was the only living witness.

But the ballistics on the bullets they took out of the two dead policemen matched the sidearms registered to Nunez and Ortiz, and the video from the patrol car's dashboard camera was indeed conclusive. Forensics also confirmed the only fingerprints on the knife found alongside Dona Elena's body were hers, and Detective Russo verified that the wounds to Olivia's hands were virtually identical to those that had been found on the corpse of Arturo Toledo seven years before, a fact that had never been released to the press.

Thanks to my conversation in the limo with Sid Gold about money laundering, I suggested that deposits for the sales from Dona Elena's book should be compared to withdrawals from the numbered account Olivia had discovered. That was done, and although it caused him great trepidation, the Los Angeles district attorney eventually found enough political courage to announce that Congressman Montes's wife had been laundering money through her self-publishing enterprise, blood money that had apparently been stolen from the Guatemalan people by her first husband, Arturo Toledo, whom she was now suspected to have murdered.