“Go back to beating your tits.”
“Breasts, otherwise it’s not the same thing. So anyway, now I’m shattered again because the person I thought was my friend, my partner, and blah de blah, was in reality a lying bitch.”
Peabody turned to stare, narrow-eyed, at Eve’s profile.
“Keep that up and you’ll be dismembered and fed into a human-waste recycler.”
“I’m just saying. Anyway, back to Flores, who we’ll now call Lino.”
“We get the records, check out all the Linos, narrow it down.”
“Unless he wasn’t baptized there, because his family moved there when he was, like, ten. Or he was never baptized, or he stuck a pin in a map to pick this parish for his hidey-hole.”
“Which is why EDD will be working on the fake ID, and why we’ll be running his prints and his DNA through IRCCA, Global, and so on. Something’s going to pop out.”
“I think it’s pretty damn low,” Peabody added, “faking the priesthood thing. If you wanted to fake something, you could fake something else. Like something you did before, something you were. Hey! Hey! Maybe he was a priest. I mean not Flores, but another priest. Or he tried to be one and washed out.”
“That’s not bad. The washing out. We get the records, you cross-check with guys who washed out of the priesthood. Then do another check on the seminary where Flores trained. Maybe the vic knew him, trained with him.”
“Got that. I’ll kick it back a little more, do a search on men of the right age span who went to the private schools with Flores, might have connected with him there.”
It was an angle, Eve thought, and they’d work it through. “The guy had to figure he had the ultimate cover. Nobody’s going to run a priest, at least not like we’re going to. Not when he keeps out of trouble. And the only time we’ve learned he came close to the line was with this Solas. And we’ll be checking that, too.”
As she spoke, Eve pulled over to the curb in front of the Trinidad, a small business hotel on East 98th. She flipped on her On Duty sign.
It didn’t run to a doorman-which was a shame only because she enjoyed snarling at them-but the lobby was bright and clean. A sultry-looking brunette manned check-in. Eve headed for the distinguished silver-haired guy standing as concierge.
“We need a few moments with Elena Solas.”
“I see.” He skimmed the badges. “Is there a problem?”
“Not as long as we get a few moments with Elena Solas.”
“Yes.”
“Excuse me.” He moved to the far end of his station and began speaking to someone on his headset. When he came back, he kept his neutral smile in place. “We have a small employee lounge on the fifth floor. I’ll escort you, if meeting her there will suit.”
“That’s good.”
He walked them down to a staff elevator. “Mrs. Solas has only worked here for a short time, but has proven to be an excellent employee.”
“That’s good, too.”
Eve said nothing else, simply followed him as he stepped off the elevator, turned down a hallway, then used his key card to open a pair of double doors.
It was more of a locker room than a lounge, but as with the lobby, clean and bright. The woman who sat on one of the padded benches had her hands clutched in her lap, fingers threaded as if in prayer. She wore a gray dress under a simple white apron, and thick-soled white shoes. Her dark, glossy hair rolled into a thick, tight bun at her nape. When she lifted her head, her eyes were dull with terror.
“He got out, he got out, he got out.”
Even before Eve could move, Peabody hurried over. “No, Mrs. Solas. He’s still in prison.” She sat, laid her hands over the knot of Elena’s. “He can’t hurt you or your children.”
“Thank God.” A tear slid down her cheek as she crossed herself, and rocked. “Oh, thank God. I thought… My babies.” She launched off the bench. “Something happened to one of my kids.”
“No.” This time Eve spoke, and spoke sharply to cut off the rising hysteria. “It’s about the man you knew as Father Flores.”
“Father…” Her body visibly shook as she lowered again. “Father Flores. God forgive me. I’m so selfish, so stupid, so-”
“Stop.” Eve whipped the word out, and color flooded Elena’s face. “We’re investigating a homicide, we have a few questions, and you need to pull yourself together.” She turned to the concierge. “You need to go.”
“Mrs. Solas is obviously upset. I don’t see-”
“She’s going to be a lot more upset if I have to take her downtown because you won’t leave the room. If you’re not her lawyer or legal representative, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“It’s all right, Mr. Alonzo. Thank you. I’m all right.”
“You’ve only to call if you’re not.” He sent Eve a frigid look as he turned to go.
“I never thought of Father Flores,” Elena murmured. “When they said the police were here, I thought of Tito, and what he said he’d do to me, and our three girls. I have three girls.”
“And he used to tune you up.”
“Yes. He used to hit me. He would drink and beat me, or not drink and beat me.”
“And he molested your daughter.”
Her face tightened, a flash of pain. “Yes. Yes, my Barbara. I didn’t know. How did I not know? She never told me, until… She never told me because I did nothing when he hit me. Why should I protect her when I didn’t protect myself?”
“There’s a question.” Eve caught herself, ordered herself to stick to the point. “But not the one we’re here for. You’re aware that Flores confronted your husband about the minor child Barbara.”
“Yes. He and Marc and Magda called the police. But he and Marc came first. And that’s how I found out what he’d done to my baby. And had started to do to my little Donita.”
“How did you feel about that?”
“About what Tito had done?”
“About what Flores did about it?”
Elena straightened her shoulders. “I thank God for him every day. I say a rosary for him every night. He saved us, when I was too scared and stupid to save us, he did. I know he’s with God now, and still I’ll thank God for him every day, and say a rosary for him every night.”
“Has your husband contacted you from Rikers?”
“He doesn’t know where we are. Magda took us to a shelter, one downtown from here. Duchas.”
Eve shot Peabody a warning glance as her partner started to speak.
“We stayed there for three weeks. Tito took a plea. Ten years. It’s not enough, but it’s ten years of peace. We’ve moved, and I have a new job. When I have enough, we’ll move again. Out of the city. Far away. He’ll never find us. Father Flores promised.”
“Did he? Did he tell you how he could be so sure?”
She sighed. “He said there were ways, if need be, and that there were people who could help if we had to hide. But that I shouldn’t worry. He had faith that Tito would never trouble us again. I don’t have such strong faith.”
When they were in the car headed downtown, Peabody cleared her throat. “I wasn’t actually going to mention your connection to Duchas back there.”
“It’s not my deal. It’s Roarke’s.”
Hence the connection, Peabody thought. “Well, it’s a good thing. It really helps women and kids in trouble. You were a little hard on her. Elena Solas.”
“Really?”
The ice in the single word froze the air, and had Peabody pulling out her PPC. “Anyway, I’ll check with Rikers, see if Solas contacted anyone interesting in the last couple months.”
“You do that.”
Silence hung, a frosty curtain, for ten blocks. “She deserved it,” Eve snapped out. “That and more, for leaving it to her kid to get them out. For taking the slaps and punches and sniffling in the corner while her daughter’s getting raped. She deserved it for doing nothing.”