James Grippando - When Darkness Falls

“I know that.”

“Then what do you want from me, my darling?”

“I want to know just one thing,” said Alicia.

Her mother’s eyes welled, and she seemed on the verge of tears. “Tell me, please.”

“Do you want to talk to me, Mom? Or do you want me to talk to her?”

T here were many things that Jack had yet to figure out about Sergeant Paulo. Jack was normally a quick study, but Paulo was a complicated guy by anyone’s measure, and Jack had known him only a matter of hours. A crisis, however, had a way of breeding a certain amount of instant familiarity, as it was difficult to conceal “the real you” when both the stakes and the level of tension were sky-high. At the very least, Jack understood him well enough to appreciate just how serious Paulo was when he told Jack to come inside the command center, meet the old woman who had Falcon’s cash, and hear firsthand what she had to say.

Paulo was alone with her when Jack entered the room. She sat in a stiff, upright position, the fingers of each hand interlaced to form a tight ball in her lap. She was clutching a handkerchief, perhaps Paulo’s. Jack’s first impression was that she was younger than his abuela, but he could have easily envisioned her at his grandmother’s card table with a half dozen elderly Latinas just like Abuela, talking and drinking coffee for hours at a time, perhaps even pulling Jack aside and telling him about a beautiful niece that he should meet. Her hair was short, stylish, and mostly gray. Behind the wire-rimmed eyeglasses were big, dark eyes that were equally sad and sincere. Although her face was wrinkled, her healthy olive complexion had retained some of its youthful quality, as if the creases in her skin were more the product of worry than age.

“So, you are the lawyer who represented this monster?” she said as Jack took a seat at the table.

“I’m Jack Swyteck,” he said. “I was Falcon’s lawyer for a short time, but I’m not here on his behalf. I’m here because he’s holding my best friend hostage, and I’m doing everything I can to help Sergeant Paulo get him and the other hostages out safely.”

Vince said, “She understands all that. We had a lengthy talk before I called you.”

Jack said, “Do you actually know Falcon?”

“Yes,” she said. “That’s why I contacted Sergeant Paulo.”

“I don’t mean to sound like a doubting Thomas, but why did it take you so long?”

“I tracked down Sergeant Paulo as soon as I saw Falcon’s face on television.”

“The local news stations have been airing this hostage standoff all day long, and Falcon’s mug has been all over the media for at least two days, ever since that woman’s body was found in the trunk of his car.”

“I just arrived in Miami a few hours ago.”

“This has been on CNN and some of the other national newscasts as well.”

“I was in Argentina. This wasn’t news there.”

“No, I guess it wouldn’t be,” said Jack.

“I was in my hotel room when I first saw a newsflash update of a hostage situation involving a man named Falcon. The name, of course, piqued my interest. When I saw his picture, I grabbed my bag and came straight here.”

“You mean the bag with Falcon’s money in it?” said Jack.

“Yes.”

“How did you end up in Miami with all that cash?”

Paulo interjected, “That’s getting a little ahead of things. Jack, I think you might want to start by asking how she came to know Falcon in the first place.”

Jack was starting to sense that there were only certain things that Paulo wanted him to know. But as a member of law enforcement, Paulo didn’t have to share any of this information with an outsider, so Jack wasn’t going to pitch a fit about it. “Okay, tell me, ma’am. How do you know Falcon?”

“He first contacted me several years ago. It was by letter. He identified himself only as Falcon. He said that I should get in touch with a twenty-one-year-old woman in Miami, named Alicia Mendoza. She could help me with my search.”

“Your search for what?”

“That is between Alicia and me.” Both her tone and tight expression conveyed that it was an intensely personal matter. Jack decided to move on rather than press the point, perhaps come back to it later.

“Did you contact Alicia?”

“Yes. I came to Miami and talked to her in person.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, that is between Alicia and me.” She glanced at Paulo and said, “Right, Sergeant?”

It was apparent that she and Paulo had reached an understanding about the things that she would and would not share with Jack. Paulo said, “Jack, why don’t you ask about the next time she saw Falcon?”

She was quick to correct him. “I didn’t see him on either occasion.”

“Okay,” said Jack. “Tell me about the next contact.”

“I didn’t hear from him again until just recently. A little more than a week ago, I received a package by international courier. Inside was a key and enough money for a plane ticket to Nassau. He told me to go to the Greater Bahamian Bank and Trust Company and open safe deposit box number two sixty-six. He said that I should take everything that was inside the box, and that I should be sure to use the name Marianna Cruz Pedrosa.”

“And you just dropped everything and went?”

“When he mentioned Marianna’s name, of course I went.”

“So, you are not Marianna Cruz Pedrosa?”

“No.”

“Do you know her?”

“Sí.”

“Do you know where she is?”

Her voice was so laden with sadness that even one-word responses took considerable effort. “No.”

Jack treaded lightly, sensitive to her heavy heart. “What can you tell me about her?”

She drew a breath, then let it out as if it were her last. “Era mi vida.”

She was my life.

The words chilled Jack. His own abuela often used the same term of endearment to convey how much he meant to her, so he had some appreciation of the depth of this woman’s feelings. Still, Jack realized that he was barely scratching the surface of this mysterious triangle-the woman, Marianna, and Falcon. It was obviously a triangle filled with pain and born in Argentina, though it somehow intersected with Alicia Mendoza’s life in Miami. The trial lawyer inside him wanted to ask a thousand follow-up questions and sort everything out immediately. Who was Marianna? What happened to her? Why did Falcon give this old woman so much money in her name? Why did the woman bring it to Miami? But with each passing moment, the old woman was showing signs of increasing distress, and Jack could only begin to sense the breadth of her personal loss and suffering. It seemed only humane to shift gears for a moment, albeit slightly, and let her collect her wits.

Jack said, “Can we take a step back and clear up something you mentioned just a minute or two ago?”

“Sure,” she said as she used the handkerchief to dab away a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You made a point of telling Sergeant Paulo that you never actually saw Falcon in either of the two communications you had with him.”

“That’s right.”

“Then how did you recognize Falcon’s picture on the television this afternoon?”

The sorrow drained from her face, replaced by a surge of strength and stoicism that could only spell anger. “At first I didn’t recognize him, because he has aged so much. But it was in the eyes. I looked into those eyes on the TV screen and realized that I’d seen that monster before, in his younger days. I had just always known him by another name.”

“What name is that?”

“I knew him as El Oso.”

“The Bear?” said Jack. “What kind of a name is that?”