Saving Lucas

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Julian Jimenez sat on a leather sofa, a cup of freshly brewed tea on his lap. He took a sip of the bitter-sweet tea, willing the flavors to reach every corner of his mouth and calm the small shivers of his body. He didn't know where to start. An hour ago he was happily munching on a burger from Brew Burgers--because they serve the best burgers in town--and the next he was here, in this lonely, dark house, preparing to break the news to a newly widowed woman. 

"Mrs Esteves?" he said, putting the tea cup back to its saucer. "Did you have any idea where your husband was during the last three days?"

The woman smoothed her skirt and sat upright. She was the epitome of regal. She wore a navy-blue pencil skirt, a pinkish-cream blazer with a pearl necklace, and tied her hair neatly. She had high cheek bones and thin eyebrows, eyes that gave away nothing, thin lips and dangerously pointed nose. She was beautiful in a classy way. Julian guessed she was probably in her mid-forties.

"Mrs Esteves?" Julian repeated.

The woman took out a napkin from the table and coughed. The cough sounded labored. Julian was afraid her throat would rip.

"He..." she said in between coughs. "He said he was assigned to a major assignment. He said he was going to be away for a while."

Julian pretended to write that down. He was stalling. "Mrs Esteves, Do you think--"

The woman waved her off. "Agent...?"

"Jimenez."

"Right," she said, clearing her throat. "Agent Jimenez, if you are going to ask me if I think my husband lied, then it's a no. There's no mistress too, if that's your follow up question. I know my husband. He was a good man. And like you, he caught bad guys. And yes, maybe we never had the chance to have kids of our own, but that was never a problem. We were more than contented with our marriage. I was the apple of his eye, and so was he to me. We loved each other, Mr Jimenez. I'm saying this not because I'm being melodramatic. I'm saying this so that you'll cut to the chase. I don't want any more dilly-dally. So please," she whispered, her voice raspy. "Tell me why you're here."

Julian may have smiled. He liked the power of this woman. He bet she was always in control of everything. He imagined Karl drooping around while this woman barked her orders. He sat upright and opened his notes.

"Your husband was found dead this morning," Julian said, jumping to the point. This woman was allergic to bullshit, he thought. So why not skip the small talk?

The woman closed her eyes, fists forming in both of her hands. The blow struck her hard, Julian thought, but she was struggling to keep it under control. The woman was a tiger. 

"Tell me," she whispered.

Julian waited a beat. He feigned flipping his notes, but in truth, he didn't read them. He knew the facts by heart.

"Your husband, Agent Karl Esteves, was found dead this morning on the side of a secluded road in Manila. A bullet to the neck. The road maintenance called him in on one of Manila's police stations. When he was later identified, they called the department here in Iloilo, where your husband was assigned. I'm sorry, Mrs Esteves, but your husband wouldn't have survived any other way."

The woman looked away, then faced him again. "Do you have a wife, Agent Jimenez?"

The question surprised him. "Yes."

"Then you must know how I feel."

He did.

"Find him, Mr Jimenez. Find whoever killed my Karl," she whispered, her lips trembling.

Julian nodded. "As you may not have known, Mrs Esteves, your husband was a colleague of mine in the force. We may not have been best pals, but we knew each other and did a couple of investigations together," Julian looked straight at her. "I'll be taking the last flight to Manila today, collaborate with the police department there. So yes Mrs Esteves, I will find whoever did this to Karl. I'll nail that sonofagun."

The woman wiped a tear on her cheek and whispered. "You do that, Mr Jimenez, and I will be forever grateful to you," she said. "And please," she struggled to find her voice. "Call me Maria."

****

"He's dead, madam," the man standing on the edge of the table told the woman sitting behind the desk. The woman glanced his way, and shuddered. Scars and burn marks adored his face, like caterpillars frozen in place. The woman guessed he was handsome during his time--before the violence and the ruthlessness and the hatred that consumed his then perfect persona. 

"It seems," the woman sighed, "that we under estimated them, Billy."

"So it appears, madam," the man named Billy shook his head. "They managed to eliminate our best man."

She stared at her hands for a while. "What about Lucas?"

Billy cleared his throat. "He's dead too."

The woman nodded slowly. 

She spun her revolving chair towards him. She almost winced at the sight of his face. Though his face probably looked like an experiment gone wrong, Billy's hair was parted by the gods, a neat comb over to the right. He wore a lavender suit, his blue polo visible underneath. His suit was rolled to his elbow, the tattoos on both his arms complicating the look even more. Billy tried to move forward, limping as he did. That limp, the woman thought, was the reason why Billy quit the job involving the physical aspect. The burns and scars were the only memento left from his better days; when he was still capable of slashing one's throat with just a bread knife. Billy was skillfull in so many ways, until a survivor from one of his gruesome appointments managed to shoot him in the knee. Billy never again took field work after that. He served as the brain since then. He was always on the background, taking his time devising ways to abuse and dispose unpleasant people. The woman liked him. Billy always planned meticulously, and always delivered. 

Except Karl. He miscalculated that.

"What do you suggest we do?" the woman asked, her agitation evident.

Billy smiled. 

"We do nothing, madam," he said with a grin.

"Pardon?" the woman asked, perplexed by his answer.

"Right now," Billy breathed, "we just sit and wait."

A pause. Then: "I'm not sure I understand."

Billy limped forward, leaning on the table. "We already fixed the situation," he started. "We cleaned the evidence on the scene, and planted new ones to make it look like they attacked Karl. My men are fast. Very fast. And efficient," he grinned. "We planted sachets of drugs in the basement. We made it look like Karl was raiding the place. We got a crackhead to tell the investigators that he was the one who tipped Karl about the ongoing drug operation in that basement. Lucas' body was left there. That'll make everything more convincing," he coughed in his fist and smiled. "We altered the scene like a pro." 

The woman cleared her throat. "Your point being?"

"My point is," Billy spread his hands. "The police are now on a man hunt. Eventually, they will find them. And when they do, the three of them, they'll be helpless. They wouldn't have anybody else to turn to. And when that happens, if Ringo's smart enough..." Billy smiled and waited for the answer like a kindergarten teacher.

"They'll come running to us," the woman said, her eyes wide with excitement.

Billy grinned, showing his stained teeth. He grabbed his cain and limped for the door. He opened the door, looked back at the woman, smiled and said, "Bingo."