BREAKDOWN
— Chapter V —
I woke up feeling confused. I licked my lips while I scratched my itchy beard, totally off guard, when something hit me on the head: a tightly wrapped baguette sandwich.
"Che hai?" Mauritizio smug head peeked through the backroom door. "Asleep again?"
His voice rang in my ears like bells from a tower.
Mauritzio came striding to me and took what I've been holding in my chest and threw it in the desktop. "This shit again?" he muttered.
I didn't realize I'd been sleeping while hugging that picture. That was so—
"Pathetic!" Mauritzio saw me splash my face with some cold water to help me wake up. "Get over it, man. You've been so different ever since that article. No sleep, total slack, always drunk."
I passed my hands across my forehead, I was burning, but at least the world around me had finally stopped spinning. I came to join him to the front of the deli. Thankfully, it was still early morning and there was no customer in sight.
"You're wearing the same clothes you did yesterday," He said, taking his eyes out of the newspaper he was reading for a moment, "and the day before yesterday."
"I think I know that" I answered, devouring my breakfast sandwich.
"You're going to scare the customers."
"Zitto!" I complained. "I think I'm still the boss here. Can we talk about something else?"
"Listen to this." Mauritzio shook the newspaper. "Another body's been found, just two blocks from here. This one was an editor of a freelance magazine. I think it's one of those we use to cover the smokey ham... the one with the glossy paper. She was killed last night, inside her car, severe cuts all over her body and face. Wanna take a look?"
"Why exactly are you telling me this?"
"Trying to cheer you up, man!" he said.
"Not working."
"Fine. I'm calling a taxi" he said and pulled me by the collar of the jacket, forcing me to get out of the Deli. He was just lucky he was born on the tall side of the family. "Go and make yourself more decent. I can't suffer another day looking at you all shitty like this".
"Hey! I'm still in charge here." I blurted while he threw me inside a yellow cab.
"Whatever you say, boss." He closed the door.
I opened the door of another taxi as I found myself back in the deli several hours afterwards. I came as fast as I could but breakfast time had been over already. The transit on the way towards and back from Queens had been horrible at rush hour and I spent more time in taxi than at home. I was so glad I didn't live with my mother anymore. I don't think I would be up for her ramblings if she'd seen me in that state.
After I paid the man and said goodbye to half day's profit sale from the deli, I opened the door and Mauritzio saluted me as if he hadn't seen me for days.
"Ciao, Cugi. You've got visita:" Then he winked at me, "a chick."
I unconsciously felt relieved I had taken my time to shave and freshen up… and change my clothes at least.
"What chick?" I said. My heart started feeling uneasy. Could it be Betty?
"La ragazza, tall, long legs," he whispered, "ha il capelli tutti rossi. I'm in love."
Of course —Elizabeth Leigh.
Mauritzio threw an arm around my shoulders and got closer. "I know you've sworn off redheads since Mirna. So, is she single?"
A memory of long forgotten years came to me. Of course: Mirna Ponteya! The longest reddish hair I've ever seen, scarlet like fire, just like her heart; the first woman that burned me with a passion unknown to my younger years and the first woman that broke my heart. I mentally smiled —what had made me so vehemently think it'd been Betty Suarez?
With that thought in mind I entered the backroom. She was sitting on my desk. I think I saw Beth cheeks turn slightly red, just like her hair, when she saw me. I was glad she had it tightly wrapped in a pretty bun behind her neck.
"You look so…" she said, surveying me from head to toe.
"…handsome?" I answered and automatically smiled —force of habit.
"I was going to say… young."
I made a face. Not exactly what I was expecting.
"Do you know Matt?"
Beth handed me a picture, a newspaper clipping carefully glued to a construction paper. I hated that she'd found what I've left so careless on my desk. I didn't have to look on the article to know what was in it. I knew the content by heart. The clipping was two months old about a certain media event. Betty Suarez was there, unmistakably her, looking so pretty in her very mismatched but fashionable dress. She was standing near that guy. She was smiling by his side. "Matt Hartley and unnamed companion" was written under the picture. They seemed to be quite close. She looked so happy. I hated it.
"I know Betty. We used to be… friends. Don't mind it. I was going to throw that picture anyway."
She saw me break the picture in two and toss the pieces into the rubbish bin.
"Why are you here?" I cut dryly.
"Its official: they're calling it a heart failure." I saw the indignation painted all over her face. "How she always gets everything she wants. How she always imposes herself. She's going to get everything. And she's going to end clean."
I raised my eyebrows in surprise.
"What are you saying? That your aunt killed your uncle for money?"
She wasn't ashamed to admit it.
"I don't like her. I never had. And she doesn't like me either. So it's fine by me. But we all knew about my uncle's testament. It was public. There was no family secrecy. Most money and ownership of his companies are going to Aunt Victoria in the case of his death. I just didn't know she was going to get that far."
"What about his son?" I asked while I still had his smug look etched in my memories, standing close to Betty in that picture.
"All was to be kept in the custody of Aunt Victoria, I believe. Matt is not to get anything until he gets married or he turns a certain age. I think it was thirty. She had all planned out. I can't believe this."
I let her finish. I still didn't understand what part I was playing in all this or even if I wanted to be involved.
"You still haven't told me why you're here."
She stood up from her chair.
"I saw you talking with an officer. He seemed to be your friend." She said looking at me once more with her cold gray eyes. "Nobody tells me anything. I was wondering if you could call him."
"I don't think I can do that."
She didn't look as if she was going to let me off the hook easily.
"I don't like begging. But I will do it if I have to," she said, losing her usual composure. "I'm driving myself crazy. I loved him like a father. I can't let this like this. I must know at least what the police know. You must call your friend. I just want to know anything… something… anything."
She showed me her vulnerable self once more. She was definitely imploring me to help her. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal. It was just a call. I took the cell phone from my pocket.
I found the perfect excuse. After the usual greetings between men I decided to play my act.
"Pietro, Do you remember Manolo Torres?"
"Yeah, man. I've heard. Family is devastated," He answered me. "What a tragedy. I used to date his sister back in school, you know?"
I rolled my eyes. Who didn't?
"Did you know if he was depressed or something? Did he have any problem? Drugs? Gangs? Debt?"
"Not that I know of. No. Clean record. Electrical Engineering at uni. He was one of the good ones."
"I know. It's a shame. What has the world turn into?" I tried to sound as casual as possible. "Just like the murder of that millionaire. As if it were not difficult just trying to keep on living."
Pietro got suddenly silent for a moment.
I cast the bait again, cautiously.
"So, did you catch the culprit? It's going to be a bit edgy here knowing a killer is on the loose."
"Haven't you heard the news, Gio? The guy died of heart stroke. There was no murder."
I pretended to be surprised.
"No murder! You must be joking. I was there! I remember you even told me he was shot several times. That it was a big deal."
"I know what I've told you. But, it was just a false report."
"Come on, Pietro. I know you better than this. I don't care what the news says. This is just media bullshit."
After another moment of silence he whispered through the phone line.
"Listen, Gio, the whole investigation's been canceled. And, personally, I don't care. Neither should you. My promotion is in course. Did I tell you as of today I'm inspector in training?
"Well, congratulations, Pietro, but don't you find it a bit fishy that they are covering the murder? Don't you think there's something there, Mr. inspector-in-training?"
I knew I was pushing it too far.
"Look, I'm nobody. I couldn't start investigating the loss my own hair even if I wanted to. I have bosses and my bosses have bosses above them. And all these people know people of influence. They probably don't want a scandal".
"It looks pretty weird to me. A very powerful man just got murdered. How about the weapon?"
"We never found it. And it's very strange. We made sure to check all the belongings from the people at Mode that day".
"It can't be right."
"Gio, I don't know what you're playing at. But stay away from this thing. We don't belong in that world, you know? Just, don't get yourself dirty for that people," he said, "and you know what I mean."
I looked at Beth. I knew what he meant.
—0—
A couple of hours later, that evening at lunch, I went back to Mode carrying a wrapped sandwich in my hand. Honestly, I just wanted to see if Betty was really doing okay.
There was a huge line in front of the sole elevator working at Meade corp. The main corridor was crowded and yet people were silent like zombies, not even complaining, as if accepting an irremediable fate.
I found it quite curious, so I advanced to the reception desk. Amanda stopped paying attention to her manicure long enough to greet me. I felt honored.
"What's with all this silence? Do they all behave so properly even when one elevator is out of service at lunch time?"
"Victoria Hartley was supposed to come today and the office turns into a graveyard. She's worse than Wilhelmina. And I never thought that possible. Whenever she comes, they separate a special lift for her and The Hartleys. Nobody else is allowed to use it."
"You must be joking." The rich people and their quirk lives.
"She's kind of late today, though. Nah! Probably not coming anyway."
She focused once more in painting her nails so I made my way into the offices.
"You forgot again that Betty's office is not on this floor" she yelled at me.
I mentally hit myself on the head. I really had forgotten. To tell the truth, I didn't even know where she was working now.
I looked back. If I was to return to the elevator I'd have to go through that huge line of people.
"Anyway, if you came here for Betty," she shouted at me, "she took this day off to be with her boring boyfriend."
Damn it. I was a complete fool. I should've checked before hand.
"You're wrong" I said, as naturally as I could. "I came to bring this to Beth."
"Oh! The Bastard Hartley!" she said and I left her speculating. "You really could do better."
There she was, sitting in Betty's old chair. She was concentrating in something on the computer so she didn't see me sit on a corner of the desk. I placed the sandwich on top of a pile of paper near Beth just like I used to do with Betty.I had enough time to admire her heart-shaped birthmark —What life she'd lead?
Beth finally noticed my presence and turned around, startled by me. I loved it when Betty did that. I smiled.
Regaining her usual poise, she stared at my gift for a moment and, with a slight air of indifference, said, "Thank you. You're too kind."
She definitely wasn't Betty.
"So," I said pretending to make conversation, since I had no idea what I was doing there, "is Daniel here?"
"No, he didn't come today to the office. Can I help you with something?"
Her glacial tone froze me for a moment. Was she the same person that had just begged me to help her just a few hours ago?
"Is he sick?"
She threw me the why-would-someone-like-you-want-to-know stare. I chuckled at her behavior.
"He's my friend. I've known him for quite some time."
"Well," she said, still a bit cautious, "it's very unlike him not to have called yet. I haven't seen him since yesterday."
"Have you tried calling him at home?"
"Of course!" Her gray eyes were insulted by my question. "Nothing to worry about. He'll show up eventually. Shall I tell him to call you back?"
"Nah! It's okay." I kept sitting there. I had no idea what else to say, so I stared at her birthmark once again. Was she all right?
She stood up, took a newspaper, the sandwich, her purse and started walking away from me.
"Let's eat at your place. I need to get out of here for a while."
"Didn't you have certain leave rights for the loss of your uncle, too?" I followed behind.
"I didn't take it. I must stay." She said as she walked before me towards the elevators. "I'm not done yet."
She ignored the large line of people and went straight to the door on the left.
She pushed a few buttons in the panel, entered and asked me to follow her. She was a Hartley, after all.
A hand stopped the door from closing.
The head of Marc st. James peeked inside the lift and invited himself in, followed swiftly by Amanda.
"I didn't ask you to come" Beth said, regally.
"But we're here anyway" Marc said and pushed the floor button.
"Hi, Joe" Amanda winked at me, "again."
The second the door closed, the lights suddenly went off and we heard a small explosion on top of our heads. Before we had time to realize what was happening, the elevator plummeted down with us trapped inside.
Amanda and Marc screamed. Adrenaline filled my veins but I was still conscious enough to notice a very frightened Beth trying to make equilibrium besides me. I threw my body towards her and held her securely against the wall.
But the elevator didn't crash. There was a pull and we made a sudden stop. The lights turned on again.
"Are we dead?" Amanda said. Marc was still hugging her.
"Are you okay?" I asked Beth. She just nodded and gently pushed me away from her body. I helped her stand up.
I pressed the emergency button and asked for help. There was no response.
Beth closed her mobile phone. "No signal."
"Help! Somebody help!" yelled Amanda, hitting the door. "Help!"
I sat down in one corner.
"I guess we'll have to wait for a couple of minutes. They'll come."
The couple of minutes turned into half an hour.
Beth kept her cool but dared to say. "Maybe they don't know we're here. Nobody was supposed to use this elevator."
"We're going to die here" Amanda yelled.
"Argh! I refuse to die in this box" Marc whined. "This is not the way I plan to die."
"Who in God's name plans his own death?" Beth said, ironically.
"Nobody is going to die" I said. "Calm down, okay?"
"Cameras! There are cameras!" Amanda snapped. "I know there are cameras in the elevator."
"Don't get too excited" Beth said, "all surveillance devices were ordered to be disconnected."
"Why would they do that?" Marc asked waving his hands in despair.
"They told us that the decision was made so people weren't afraid to work in a 'hostile environment'," Beth said. "It just sounds like my aunt's kind of thing."
"That is just plain stupid" Marc retorted. "The murderer could still be out there. Anyone of us could be killed."
"Do you… do you think somebody actually killed my uncle?"
"Of course I do. Heart stroke? Come on! What are you taking me for? I'm not a gullible idiot like—" he eyed me and Beth in turns "some people. I've been doing my own research. I value my life too much to stay around a place where there's a killer on the loose."
"Shush!" Amanda butted in, "It's a secret. We've been playing detectives. It's quite fun."
Marc pushed Amanda down until she was sitting by his side.
"I know for a fact that the police never found the murderous weapon and that the Hartleys paid off the press to shut up. Police confirmed that nobody left the building after the murder occurred. Which directs us to the horrible truth" he said with a mysterious face. "That the killer is among us."
"Really?" Beth raised an eyebrow. She wasn't fooling anyone. I knew she'd been thinking the same thing. "The police didn't give information to anybody."
"I'm not anybody." Marc said equally raising an eyebrow.
"Never thought you had it in you" I smiled to him with a hint of irony in the corner of my lips. "I'm surprised."
"Sorry to hear that, pickle boy. If you weren't so disgustingly distracted in trying to melt your cheese in that short-sighted fat Mexican Taco, you'd noticed I'm actually The Genius at Mode".
"You better stop talking about Betty in that way." I said shockingly annoyed, caught by a sudden torrent of anger, grabbing him violently by his colorful scarf.
"What are you? Children?! Stop this nonsense!" Beth commanded. "We have more important things to think about."
She looked at me and then at Marc. I feared what she could be thinking. She was a clever woman.
"Yeah" Amanda cried, "I really need to go to the toilet!"
I took the newspaper from the floor and tried to ignore everyone else's presence inside the small confine. I had barely shut myself by reading something when I heard a loud cry.
"I know her!" It was Marc. "I know her!"
I folded the page and looked at the page he was showing us. Everyone got closer to get a better look at the article. It was about the murdered girl that was found horribly stabbed that same morning.
"I recognize that face. I've seen her," Marc said almost yelling. "She studied with me in the Y.E.T.I program!"
A loud metal bang made us jump in unison. Then another one and he door slightly opened. We were finally being rescued.
To be continued
Notes:
Che hai? = (it.) What's up.
Zitto!= (it. fam.) Shut up.
La ragazza, ha il capelli tutti rossi = (it.) The chick, she's got the hair all red.
Ciao, Cugi= (it. fam.) Hey, cuz (cousin).
