Chapter 24: Manila Morgue

Back at the entrance to the morgue, Marta held out the bag of cocaine she had pulled from her pocket. "It's all I have left. You can have it. Just please, tell me if anyone that might be my boyfriend was brought in. That's all I'm asking."

The young man lowered his sunglasses and peered at the drugs, an eyebrow lifted. He asked his girlfriend a few questions in Filipino and she responded with a short sentence. He shrugged and waved a hand forward impatiently, as if to move her along. The girl turned towards Marta and informed her, "Yes, maybe your boyfriend here. Young oriental man, tall, a motor-bike accident. Two or three days past. No name."

Marta let her tears flow and her face twisted in grief and despair. The couple exchanged an anxious look and the girl came forward to pat Marta on her shoulder. She said, comfortingly, "Maybe not him. Maybe he still come to you."

"I have to know," Marta spoke, with a sad, shaking voice. "I can't just leave without him. I can't go home if I don't know for sure if he's dead." She broke down in wracking sobs. "I just have to know!"

The man, looked around nervously, uncomfortable with the emotional scene. The young woman felt pity for the broken American back-packer who was completely lost and alone. She could understand how awful it would be not to know if your lover was dead or he had just abandoned you-but she still wasn't willing to risk her job to show her the body. "Very sorry no more help. I lose job-big trouble-if I show you body."

"No, I don't want to get you in trouble, that's okay," Marta sniffed, wiping her nose. The couple stood by awkwardly, while she appeared to compose herself. She wiped at her tears but kept them coming. She spoke hesitantly, as if just coming up with a compromise. "But...would you maybe...could you...maybe just show me something the victim had on him?"

The young woman looked suspicious and she told her, "No, cannot take from here-for police."

Marta shook her head. "Oh, no. I wouldn't take anything. I only need to see something and you can have it right back. He...he wore a distinctive necklace. He never took it off. If my boyfriend is dead, the necklace would've been on him."

The girl seemed to consider and Marta added, "I promise; I won't take it. I just want to see it, and I'll give it right back. Then I'll know for sure if it's him."

The young man asked his girlfriend what the American was asking for. When she explained, he shrugged his shoulders as he replied in a dismissive voice. He eyed the cocaine again and Marta knew he wanted it. She held it out and said, in a beseeching tone, "This and my complete gratitude if you'll just show me any necklace among the personal items on the victim you mentioned. Please, I beg you."

The young woman didn't know a lot of the words the back-packer used, but she understood the request. She hesitated, but finally gave in when her own boyfriend exclaimed that he didn't see the harm in showing the American a piece of jewelry if it meant proof of her boyfriend's fate-and a good-sized baggie of pure coke. She instructed, "Stay here," and let herself back into the morgue. She emerged a few minutes later with her hand in her pocket, looking anxiously all around, before pulling out the exact same type of dispenser necklace Outcome had used for their participants.

Marta gasped in overly emphasized recognition and held open her hand for it. She thrust the cocaine into the young woman's other hand as if they were conducting a trade. The girl dropped the chain into Marta's open palm and quickly turned to give her boyfriend the drug, wanting it safely out of sight right away. While the couple was distracted, Marta slid the top of the dispenser open and tilted the pills into her hand. She held them, hidden in the cup of her hand, as she appeared to turn it over to look at the necklace closely, while sliding back the metal cover. She let the tears flow freely again and nodded her head, seeming to accept the terrible fate of her boyfriend's death.

Marta used her other hand to give back the necklace to the anxious morgue employee, who accepted it with relief and asked sadly, "Is his?" Marta just nodded again, in affirmation, appearing to stricken to answer.

"So sorry," the kind young woman told her, her face full of concern. Even the boyfriend on the moped spoke in heavily accented English, "Sorry. Sad."

She gave them a watery, but grateful, smile. Marta thanked them in a strained voice then hunched her shoulders, shoved her hands in her cut-off jean pockets, and turned away to walk back slowly with heavy, burdened steps. It took great self-restraint to keep from running as fast as she could away from the morgue and not to look towards the alley where she knew Aaron was watching. Marta heard the motorbike start up behind her a few minutes later. The couple drove past her, slowing down to catch her gaze and give her a sympathetic wave good-bye. Marta held up her hand and flashed them a sad smile. She took the opportunity the brief exchange presented to glance over at the van as the pair rode by the alleyway entrance. She was close enough to see Aaron's white-knuckled grip on the wheel and dark, tight-lipped expression. His eyes were doing that roaming patrol thing he did when on high-alert. And though he wasn't looking directly at her, Marta knew he was hyper-aware of exactly where she was and what was happening. This wasn't his usual on-mission diligence-something had gone wrong.

With the program medication safely in her pocket, Marta wondered at what had went awry. She stuck to the plan and continued walking down the street, heading back towards the garage where Aaron would pick her up. So she jumped when a vehicle suddenly stopped beside her, just as she turned to enter the building. The passenger door swung out and she heard Aaron tell her, "Get in!"

Marta climbed in quick, not even bothering to take off her pack. Aaron stomped on the gas even before she had the door shut. Cold fear ran through her and she struggled to take off the back-pack and get her seatbelt on with shaking hands. Fear had winded her, so she just gaped at Aaron, her green eyes wide and filled with dread.

"The police have to be just behind me," Aaron explained. "They'll be onto us now." Marta knew he wasn't talking just about the Philippine authorities. She wanted to know exactly what happened, but wisely let Aaron concentrate fully on their escape. Sirens sounded in the distance.