Queen of the Underworld (40 page)

“Did you say dental equipment?”

“That’s your aunt Tess’s word for it. We got our allotment from Dr. Rodriguez’s office before we picked you up. Your aunt was there, too, helping out. Since the customs agents started cracking down in May, Hector is being cautious and sending out many small shipments, dividing them up. It is a federal offense to smuggle arms, you know. We are only carrying some crates of ammunition, the ‘flosses and sample toothpastes.’ The rifles and the automatics went out earlier with the crop duster. Your aunt calls them the ‘toothbrushes.’ The machine guns she calls ‘dentist drills.’ ”

God, how blind and stupid could I be? When it was right under my nose!

“I’m going to miss you
muchísimo, señor
Bartleby.”

“I’m going to miss you
extremely,
Deviled Egg. Listen, Emma, do you mind if I kiss you?”

23.

Tuesday, June 23, 1959                                             THE MIAMI STAR                                             A5

Truckload of Explosives Confiscated

Terrorist Suspects Captured in Cuba

HAVANA, Cuba (UPI) — An undisclosed number of suspected terrorists were captured aboard a dynamite-laden truck Monday in the beach resort of Guanabacoa. They will face execution by firing squad if convicted under drastic new antiterrorism laws.

The truck’s cargo of explosives was believed intended for use in the manufacture of homemade bombs.

Police did not disclose how many were arrested, but said they will investigate the ramifications of the possible terrorist plot.

News of the detentions brought popular demonstrations against the prisoners.

Prime Minister Fidel Castro, meanwhile, told a mass meeting estimated at 100,000 persons in Santa Clara that “everyone” would have a chance to fight if the threats of invasion from abroad materialized.

“The enemies of the people have reason to tremble because the people of Cuba will defend their revolution unto death,” Castro said.

He said he would like to see “war criminals” now in exile abroad land in Cuba. “The first thing we will do is to cut off their retreat so they cannot escape again.

“If war criminals decide to return to Cuba, they will be made to pay their debt with justice,” Castro said.

“Emma, you look like you’re going to take a bite out of that paper,” said Rod Reynolds. “What is it you’re reading?”

I passed it across to him.

“Hmmm, ha—oh, the ‘terrorist suspects.’ Isn’t it funny how the other side are always the terrorists? Hey, this stuff is really getting to you, stuck over there in your hotel with all the exiles. How’s your story on the old Cuban professor coming?”

I had to tell him Don Waldo was in Princeton and wasn’t expected back until July.

“Too bad. I was gonna say, go ahead and leave early and interview him this afternoon. We could send a photographer and get a nice shot of him and his bride. Is she pretty?” My phone rang. “If it’s one of your funeral homes,” he went on, “tell ’em today’s obits are already locked up.”

“City desk, Emma Gant speaking.”

“Hi, Emma. Lou Norbright here.”

“Oh,
hi.
” Through the glass of the managing editor’s office I could see the top part of him behind his desk, smiling into the receiver.

“Can you step over here for a minute?”

“H
AVE A
seat, Emma.” Though Lucifer beamed on me his full gleaming attention as I entered, he didn’t trouble himself to rise today. “How have things been going?”

“Well, I
think
they’ve been going pretty well.”

“That’s what we all think. You’re a ferocious worker and you have a lot of potential.”

“Thank you.”

“Emma, as you know, Mr. Feeney is away until the middle of July, and I’ve made an executive decision concerning you. We have a shortage up in Broward. One of our staff there, Alma Olsen, has requested a leave of absence to take care of her mother, who’s dying, and as Marge is so short-staffed, I’m going to take a gamble and let you skip a grade. New reporters normally spend three to six months in Miami before we assign them to a regular spot, but in a little more than a week you’ve shown yourself to be such a pressure cooker of industry and initiative that I’d like to send you up to Broward tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. Wednesday. Here’s what I have in mind. Alma will drive down around midday tomorrow and pick you up herself. Alma’s a nifty gal, you’ll like her. She’s offered you her car and her apartment while she’s on leave. You’ll be able to sock away some savings, because you’re going to need a car soon. How does this sound to you, Emma?”

“How long is this for?”

The words came out sounding stupid because my mouth wasn’t moving naturally. I felt like a snakebite victim once the venom starts inching through your system.

Though he continued to smile, Norbright conveyed that same aura of subliminal reservation that had shrunk me during our first meeting.

“Well, I haven’t consulted Alma’s mother,” he replied cheerfully, “though I doubt even
she
knows when she’s going to die. From what Alma tells me, I’d put it between two and three months. But if you prove yourself the way you have here, Emma, I see no reason why you can’t stay on in Broward. As I said, everyone here thinks you have a lot of potential. Your leads are great and you have a knack for human-interest features. You’re good at color. The next step is for you to learn how the world works in black-and-white so you can put together the big picture.”

“The big picture,” I gamely repeated, hardening my heart against the pity I felt for myself. If I cried now, I was finished.

“How municipalities are run; who the key players are; who stands to gain from what, who stands to lose; how justice is administered—or abused. What we call the hard news. The step beyond
that
is learning to sniff out what’s going on behind the scenes, sharpening your nose for scandals and scams.”

“Like your creep who sold religious relics through the mail.”

At least this made his expression shift to frank amusement. “You’ve been reading my file, Emma. I did the same thing when I was new here; I checked out the competition. How much are you paid up in advance at your hotel?”

“The whole month. That was the deal for the special rate.”

“Well, squeeze what refund you can get out of them. We’ll pick up the difference. Meanwhile I’ve had them cut an early check for you since you won’t be here for payday on Friday.”

A
FEW
hours earlier, the thing I had been dreading most was encountering Lídia back at the Julia Tuttle. I had not seen her since my grand betrayal the night before. The Mercedes had been left in its spot, key under the mat, with no one the wiser. Alex’s note in a Julia Tuttle envelope, addressed to his mother, I left, as instructed, on the seat.

Now the “Doña,” wearing an ice blue linen sheath and looking cool as a mint, presided over the front desk, taking her fair turn with her rent-free vassals. I walked straight toward her, our gazes already locked. I was almost eager to hear her say her worst. She had no power over me now. By midday tomorrow I would be out of her orbit. But what a high price to pay for my freedom.

“Emma, you look exhausted. What have they been doing to you at that paper? You write extra stories for them late into the night and then,
además,
you put in a full workday. You have no mail or messages, I hope you were not expecting any.”

“No, I haven’t even had time to read my yesterday’s letters yet.”

“You have been
ess-TREME-ly
busy! Would you like some refreshments sent up? Maybe an aperitif and some savories to accompany your bath?”

“No, thank you. Listen, Lídia, I’m checking out of the Julia Tuttle tomorrow. I was wondering . . . I paid a month in advance . . . could I get some sort of refund?”

“Of course you will get a refund. We are not running a clip joint here.” She hadn’t missed a beat, but there was a new wariness, like a fox who’s been chasing a chicken, only to realize it’s being tracked itself by something bigger. “At what time would you like to have your bill ready—with your
refund
?”

“I have to check out at noon, if that’s okay.”

“Well, of
course
it’s okay. Checkout time is not until two at the Julia Tuttle. But listen,
hija,
isn’t this rather impulsive? Is there some fault you find with us, something we did not do right?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re sending me—” I had to turn away.
Mierda,
I was not going to cry in front of Lídia, of all people. “They’re sending me up to the bureau in Lauderdale. One of their editors is taking a leave of absence. Her mother is dying of cancer and she wants to be with her.”

“So you are going to be an editor yourself? That is fast work.”

“Well, no. I’m to take over her women’s features, but also I’ll be broadening my scope, learning how municipalities are run, what they call the hard news. Apparently”—I laughed bitterly—“I’ve done so well with
color
stories that I’m being promoted to black-and-white for a while.”

She was scrutinizing me. “Are you happy about this move, Emma?”

“Not particularly. I wasn’t exactly given a choice.”

“Ah, some of us aren’t. You know, of course, that my Alejandro has gone off with Nestor?”

“I knew, yes.”

“I thought you did. Let us keep straight lines between us,
chica.
Do you have plans for this evening? If not, I would like to take you to a five-star restaurant in Coral Gables.”

“Thank you, that sounds lovely, but I’m having dinner with my aunt and a friend of hers.”

“
Lo siento. Entonces,
you will want your bath. I am going to send up an aperitif and some little snacks—on the house, of course—and also a bar of my special soap I order from Spain. What a pity you must leave so quickly,
querida.
I would have liked to give you a send-off party.”

“Well, I guess she is anxious to be by her mother’s side.”

“I know how it is, exactly! My mother—Alejandro’s
abuelita
—also died of cancer. I was in Paris at the time with his favorite stepfather, but I will always regret not being by her side in Palm Beach.”

I
CAME
down again at six, buzzing pleasantly from two small bottles of iced Cinzano, my hunger pangs appeased by roasted pecans and some great little cheese sticks, my skin exuding Lídia’s trademark scent, which I had to admit I liked.

Tess, still in her white uniform, was deep in conversation with Lídia at the desk. As I had no idea who knew what, and who wasn’t supposed to know what, about airport trips, “dentist drills,” and so on, I chose from my personal arsenal the weapons of reserve and goal-oriented guile for the evening ahead. After all, getting to know Ginevra was my prime objective.

Tess, however, managed to offend me almost as soon as we were in the car—her Oldsmobile, not Hector’s new Cadillac—by pointing out that this evening was to be a social one, “just among us girls,” and so naturally I would understand that anything anybody said would be “off the record” as far as the
Star
was concerned.

“Well, of
course,
Tess,” I said, stung to the quick.

For Pete’s sake, who had unearthed Ginevra in the first place? Who had talked to her at the hospital, heard her recite the poem? Tess had never even spoken to her at the hairdresser’s before I established the contact. Everything she knew about Ginevra had come secondhand from her old teacher, Edith Vine. And now Tess was acting as though they were old buddies and she had to protect Ginevra from the indiscreet reporter who might quote her in the
Star.
As though Ginevra hadn’t already been quoted in the
Star
!

Had Lídia told Tess I was being shipped off to the boondocks ? Unless Tess brought it up, I would volunteer nothing. If Lídia
hadn’t
told her, I would leave town tomorrow without telling her, either. That would be Tess’s punishment for imposing such lofty standards of probity when she herself was up to her ears in subterfuges and counterplots.

“What do you hear from your mother?” Tess went on warmly, seemingly oblivious to her offense.

“Oh, there was a masterpiece of a long letter waiting for me when I arrived, and since then she’s mailed me a few things, including my Spanish-English dictionary.”

“You can certainly use that! Nancy is so gifted. I’ll never forget the play she wrote for our class at Converse. I was sure she would be famous one day. Is she happy, do you think, Emma?”

“In many ways, I think so,” I loyally replied. As we were already on South Bayshore Drive and would soon be turning off to Tess’s houseboat, I decided to jettison my pique in favor of information. “But you were going to tell me how you arranged this date with Ginevra.”

“Well, it was Saturday at Michel’s. I was halfway through my two-color process when she came in and I saw her registering who I was, even though my head was in a swirl of foam. I can’t even remember who spoke first, it was almost like we both said hello at the same time. And then she told Michel she wanted a new look, a really short,
short
haircut, but not one of those silly poodle cuts. And I said, ‘Like Jean Seberg in
Saint Joan
?’ And Michel said, ‘That’s going to be a big change,’ and she said, ‘That’s exactly what I want, a big change.’ So Michel put her in the chair and turned her this way and that way and then he said, ‘Your bones would support a crew cut, Mrs. Brown.’ And she laughed and said with that incredible Edith Vine diction, ‘We needn’t go
that
far, Michel, just Saint Joan will do.’ And the three of us just kept on talking. By the time Michel finished transforming her, I still had more time to go on my color, and I asked if she’d be free to have dinner some night. I said you were quite taken with her, Emma, I hope you don’t mind, and she said, ‘Tuesday would be good because Edwin will be addressing a national psychiatrists’ conference over on the Beach.’ ”