“What’s that?”
“She knows nothing of my past either.”
“I’m sure you left that out.”
“And another thing, Reyna loves me.”
“But it would be a marriage based on pretense.”
“Pretense is better than the truth of my tangled, ugly past.”
“She’ll find out someday…you know that. And if your plan is successful? What then? Her father is brought down by the man she loves…thinks she knows. How strong is she? How long before love is lost to her father’s ashes…to her grief and tears?”
“God, you’ve not changed. Always preaching.”
“What do you expect? I’m a priest!”
“Look, by time Arias is under arrest and awaiting trial and execution…by then, Reyna will love me without reservation, and it won’t matter.”
“You’re projecting, Alejandro! Still predicting people’s behaviors based on that interior…or rather inferior crystal ball of yours.”
The brothers went to opposite ends of the room, each having grown red-faced, fists clenched. Pasqual was the first to unclench his hands and speak. “Look, Alejandro, even you can’t believe that lies and deceit can forge a cornerstone for anything lasting.”
“Perhaps your third-rate Jesuit psychology works for most- Father Pasqual — but for me, Reyna? She’s different, unique…an angel…innocent…pure and-”
“I can’t believe it, AliBaba, you’re babbling over a woman!”
“-and we can overcome any obstacle.”
“Hmmm…first time I’ve ever heard you speak the word we. Perhaps you do love her in your own strange-”
“Hold on.”
“You gotta admit, Ali, ’til now you’ve self-serving life.”
“No argument there.”
“Among the anti-Fidel crowd, you’ve become a legend even if most don’t know your name or face.”
“Notoriety is not my aim, and I’ll hear no more of it, Pasqual.”
“But-”
“Ahhh! End of discussion, brother.”
“But Luis tells me that you’re in Santiago for a reason.”
“He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut!”
“Just don’t do anything stupid that’ll get you killed.”
Alejandro laughed at this. “You’ve no idea the care I take with my safety-a thing I prize, especially now with Reyna in my life.”
“Safe…sure. This is all about seeing Arias to his grave. It’s always been your first and only obsession. You’ve become as cold as the evil you chase. Admit it.”
With a serious look in his eyes, his mouth twisting into a half-smile, Alejandro calmly replied, “You’re wrong. I’ve changed since Reyna.”
“I’ve long ago stopped worrying about your life ending on a misstep, Ali.”
“Then what’re you saying?”
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?”
“I’m concerned about your immortal soul, Alejandro.”
“Then keep praying for me, and add Reyna.”
“Ahhh, brother, you’re like a thorn in my side.”
“Yeah…the cross you bear.”
“And gladly so! You saved my life as much as Father Cevalos. Without you, I’d’ve never learned about life, about passion-”
“Nor about women-before you took your vows! Remember?” Alejandro chuckled. “I love you in spite of our differences.”
“Right…you’re right, Ali.”
“OK…agreed…”
“We see one another so seldom.”
“Let’s not fight.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Hmmm…look, I didn’t come alone.”
“Really?”
“Some people’ve come a long way to talk to you.”
“Detective Aguilera, Mr. Zayas, I presume?”
“I might’ve known you’re still steps ahead of me.”
“Saw you through the window. But you were right not to bring anyone up without an invitation. Bring ’em up now, but be sure no one is shadowing you.”
“Just like that? No argument?”
“None. I was, after all, expecting them,” Alejandro lied.
“Ahhh…yes, of course, Luis. That man knows how to play both ends against the middle. Are you sure you can trust him not to sell you out…to Arias?”
“Fortunately, he hates Arias as much as I do. I don’t know why.”
“I do know why, but it’s from the confessional. Still, are you sure his hatred’s enough to make him forego a large payday?”
“Luis loves Rita, respects you, and he knows what Arias did to us all.” With a grim look of determination, he added, “I completely trust him to do the right thing.”
Pasqual considered this for a moment, and nodded. “Over the last day or so, I’ve had to revise my opinion of Luis. He’s got more sides and angles than a rough-cut stone.”
Alejandro thoughtfully said, “Cevalos once told me that as a young man, our father apprenticed as a stone cutter with a master jeweler. Under his artistry and skill, a rough-cut stone became a gem.”
“I don’t remember anything about our father.”
“I do remember his kissing our mother and hugging us when he came home, but not much else.”
Pasqual saw that familiar glimmer of emotion in his brother’s eye, but as always Alejandro quickly killed all sentimentality and changed the subject while looking at his watch. “It’s getting late.”
“Late for whom?”
“I’ll see Aguilera and Zayas now.”
37
Qui Aguilera and JZ pushed past the unlocked door to Alejandro’s room. They found him standing on the balcony overlooking Santiago bay. Without turning to face them, he said, “Have you two ever heard of the Lago de Sangre?”
JZ murmured his translation, “The Lake of Blood?”
Alejandro turned where he stood in the doorway, the wind lifting the curtains about him, creating a red cloak around him. “It’s where my father’s body lies,” came the admission. “Along with the other men who were murdered at El Cobre.”
“Where the lock guided us,” JZ said.
“Actually, I suspect, where Mr. Valdes guided us,” corrected Qui cocking her head to one side and quizzically studying him. “The unseen helping hand?”
“Very good, Lieutenant Detective.” Alejandro bowed slightly. “A belated welcome to my Santiago, Quiana Magdalena Aguilera, Mr. Julio Roberto Zayas.”
“Ahhh…Mr. Alejandro Carlos Pasqual y Valdes does his homework,” Qui fired back.
“Touche!”
“What is this about the Lake of Blood?” asked JZ.
“Are you referring to the lake below the chapel?” asked Qui. “Near the basilica?”
“Yes…that night many years ago, I saw lights in the distance, far from the fire. I was a child…not knowing then that I was watching my father’s burial on the heels of my mother’s murder.”
“And you never told Pasqual?” she asked.
“To what purpose? Besides, I didn’t learn the truth of it until recently myself-and this from a dying man who had no reason to lie.”
“This dying man?” asked Qui. “Was he one of the soldiers?”
“Yes, Arias’s second-in-command as he told me over drinks. Poor devil felt abandoned in his old age. Blamed the cancer on his guilty conscience…said it ate him up over the years.”
“The cancer or his conscience?” asked JZ, not expecting an answer.
“He said he’d once been a good man, an honorable fellow, but that was before he was sent here to Santiago under the command of a man whose own troops called him El Diablo.”
“Just following orders?” commented JZ. “The Nazi excuse for carnage.”
“History repeats itself, Mr. Zayas. Who better than an American knows this?”
“That old soldier, why should we believe you didn’t kill him?” asked Qui, skeptical.
“I heard you were direct, Lieutenant. Luis speaks highly of you.” The handsome Alejandro strode deeper into the room, lifted a glass from the table, then pulled a wine bottle from ice that’d melted the night before. He drained what was left of the Cabernet into his glass. Toasting the air, he replied, “How the man died? Unimportant really. Whether he died naturally or with a little help, he was close to dying anyway and in great pain.”
Qui felt the cold cunning of this man chill the room, despite the heat and humidity pouring in from the open balcony. The curtains continued to play in and out of the entryway, ghostly, red streamers reaching out to snatch at the living.