“I must speak with him immediately,” said Consuela Lascano. “Doctora, I must ask you, do you have an alibi for last evening?”
She didn’t like the ramification of the question. “Yes, I was with Dominic and Miguel all evening.”
“Good,” Connie said. “I need to get back to the police station. Will you bring Miguel pronto? It may be that someone murdered the child we found and thought it was Miguel. This is terrible business.”
Connie paused at the door. “Elena, do not go to the Archaeological Park today. The Museum is closed, pending the outcome of our investigation. We do not want anyone wandering alone at the Park, especially not you. It is not safe. Not with the murderer still on the loose.”
“Then I’m not a suspect?”
Connie shook her head. “No. But you could be the next victim. I think whoever perpetrated these crimes is trying to silence anyone connected. Hurry. Come to the station as soon as you round up Dominic and the boy.”
Elena moved into action. She had dressed for a day of work at the Hieroglyphic Staircase and didn’t bother to change. She grabbed her back pack, told doña Carolita where she was going and headed for the clinic. It was after seven, and Dominic and Miguel would be there by now.
From a distance she could see the usual crowd standing outside the clinic, but they were milling about, more agitated than usual. Fear gripped Elena’s heart with icy fingers. They couldn’t have heard about the child found in the river. Miguel could not know about this or he might disappear again. She broke into a run.
The Jeep was not parked before the clinic. She sprinted down the side street that led to Dominic’s house, hoping that he hadn’t left, that she would be able to head them off and not let Miguel learn what had happened. She ran the few blocks to Dominic’s house. The Jeep wasn’t parked on the street in front of the house.
She slowed to a walk and took time in the last half block to catch her breath and compose herself. She didn’t want Miguel to see her winded and scared. She had to appear calm and reassuring. In front of the gate she stopped. The Jeep was parked in the driveway. The front door to the house stood wide open.
That was odd.
She pushed through the gate and walked into the house. “Dominic?” she called in a loud voice. “Miguel? Are you here?”
Dominic walked out of the kitchen. “Hi, I was cleaning up, and Leyla just arrived. Is the door open? She must have thought we were ready to leave. Sorry, we’re a little behind today. I hadn’t bargained with getting both of us out of the house in the same time it took me.”
His smiled faded when he saw her face.
“Where’s Miguel?” she asked.
“In the bathroom. What’s wrong?”
She pulled him through the open door to the patio outside and whispered. “A child has been found face down in the river. The new inspector wants Miguel brought to the police station for questioning immediately. I don’t want Miguel to know what happened. It will frighten him.”
Dominic’s eyes searched hers. “They don’t know who the child is?”
Elena shook her head.
“Miguel might be able to identify him.”
“Maybe later. Not now.” She paused. “Connie asked if I had an alibi for last evening. She said I’m not to go to the Staircase or the Museum because I might be the next target.”
“Let’s get going. I’ll get Miguel, and we’ll all go together to the police station.”
“I hope he hasn’t run off. The door was wide open when I arrived.”
She followed Dominic as he hurried down the corridor to the bathroom. Dominic knocked on the door. “Miguel, are you ready? It’s time to go.”
They heard the water running. “I told him to brush his teeth.”
He knocked again. “Miguel?”
The water stopped running. Miguel opened the door, face wet. He smoothed a towel over his mouth.
“I’m ready. Look at my teeth, see how clean they are.” He barred his teeth. For a street child he had good, straight teeth with a slight part in the middle.
“They’re very clean, Miguel. Good job,” said Dominic. His shoulders had relaxed when the boy opened the door. “Look who’s come to see us this morning.”
“Buenas días, doctora,” said Miguel.
“I hope you slept well,” said Elena. She felt like crying, she was so glad he hadn’t run off.
“Sí, doctora.”
“He did sleep well,” said Dominic. “I had trouble waking him this morning. That’s why we’re running late.” He took Miguel’s hand. “Come, we’ll go in the Jeep. Elena has arranged for us to see the new inspector at the police station.”
Miguel halted. He looked from one to the other. “Must I go?”
They nodded their heads in unison.
Elena said, “The inspector’s most anxious to meet you. She’s very nice. You’ll see.”
Connie Lascano was waiting. She placed a chair beside hers and patted it, indicating to Miguel where he was to sit. She motioned Dominic and Elena to two chairs in front of the scarred wood desk that served as her office.
“Would you like some juice or a soft drink, Miguel?” Connie asked with a soft smile.
“Juice, por favor.”
The aide at the next desk over, a slim young man, smiled and rose to get the refreshment.
“Now, Miguel,” Connie said, “tell me how old you are.”
Miguel wrinkled up his nose and shrugged his narrow shoulders. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know. Can you guess?”
“Maybe I have this many years.” He held up six, then seven fingers.
“I see,” said Connie. “Where do you live?”
“Here in Copan Ruinas.”
“Do you have a house?”
“Not exactly. I sleep under the bridge or out in the forest.”
“I see.” The juice in a box arrived, and Connie handed the small container to Miguel who pulled on the straw like he hadn’t had anything to drink in days.
“Elena tells me you were in the Archaeological Park the day that unfortunate man was found.”
“Sí, señorita.” He played with the straw and looked big eyed from Elena to Dominic.
Connie picked up on his fear. “We do not think you killed this man. We know it would be difficult for a six year old boy to hit a man with such force that it killed him, especially on the back of the head.”
“Maybe I am eight years old.”
“Okay,” said Connie, “you are eight years old.”
“I didn’t kill that man.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“But I saw who did.”
“Can you give a description of this man? It will help me find him.”
“Sí,” said Miguel. He finished his box of juice and sucked on the straw making loud slurping noises.
Connie held out her hand for the empty box, smiling, like she might have a little brother that did the same thing. “What did the man look like?”
“It was a little dark,” said Miguel.
“Think hard.”
The child stared off into the distance but couldn’t keep still. He banged his legs against the chair. “I sleep sometime in the trees by the Temple because it is cool there, and I get tired and don’t go back to the bridge to sleep.”
“Lógico,” said Connie.
“The sound of voices woke me up. There is never anyone but me and the animals out there. It scared me to hear voices. They were men, I could tell by the sound, and they were arguing.”
“How close were you?” asked Connie.
Miguel looked around then pointed out the door. “From here to the other side of the street. I was in some bushes where the leaves are soft. I was facing them. I did not move because I was afraid.”