Free Cuba Blue by Robert W. Walker Page A

paperwork.”
    “What?”
    “I’ll finish here. We both have hours of work ahead before sleep.”
    Again, he was right; she’d have reports to complete. “How do you go about describing this on a police report?” She didn’t expect an answer.
    “You fill in the blanks, which is normally all they want of you, Detective.”
     
    “You’re right, reduce this to simple words on a form. But I am reluctant to shut down the crime scene.”
     
    “I understand your concern.”
     
    “Do you really?”
     
    “Actually, I do,” he fired back. “A good detective is reluctant to give up his…ahhh her crime scene.” He again looked into her eyes. “It’s the poor ones, the ones who only want a paycheck to fill their guts with rum who can’t wait to give up the crime scene. Trust me, you’ve done a far better job than any detective I know.”
    “But is it enough?”
    Together the medical examiner and the detective stood in silence, contemplating one certain fact: the two of them must create a force unto themselves in this complex murder investigation.
    On the dock, Sergio and Tino gossiped with two of the ME’s morgue attendants, who impatiently awaited release of the bodies. While Tino continued swapping stories with the attendants, Sergio’d heard Benilo’s suggestion that they shut down the crime scene.
    When Benilo and Qui finally stopped talking, Sergio abandoned the gossip and asked, “Lieutenant, want a lift back to your car? It’s on my way.”
    “Yes. Give me a minute here.” Qui felt grateful not to have to find transport this late. She turned back toward the now familiar yet still repellant sight of the bodies, “Dr. Benilo, I will call tomorrow to hear what progress you’ve made.”
    “Not likely I will know more until the tests are complete, and trust me, that won’t be tomorrow. But I assure you if something helpful is revealed—” He frowned as if puzzled, then said, “OK, I concede. Call me tomorrow.”
    With this and a quick turn as if to dismiss her, the ME wheeled to talk to his attendants, who’d rushed in with the first stretcher and body bag. The two assistants looked as if dressed for partying, their lively multi-colored shirts surreal—incongruous with this evening’s grisly toil.
    “I will meet you shortly,” said Benilo. “Take extra precautions against bruising and breaking any bones, you fellows. No careless handling. We’re dealing with triple-murder, so gentlemen, fall back on your training.”
    “No Doctor, you needn’t worry with Enrique and me. We know what we’re doing.”
    The one called Enrique scowled at his partner and whispered something that made them both laugh.
    “Do as little harm as possible surgeons and doctors are taught in medical school,” Benilo said to Qui. “They need to teach the same when dealing with the dead. A little respect is all I ask.” Then he again shouted to his men. “Find Dr. Vasquez and tell her it’s going to be a long night. Take the bodies into the autopsy room and leave them.”
    Qui heard Tino ask the attendants, “What else does he think you’re gonna do with three dead bodies ?”
    Quick-witted Enrique joked, “Take ‘em to the Palacio de Rio of course.”
    “To the dance floor?” asked Tino.
     
    “Who else is gonna dance with Pedro?”
     
    The three laughed raucously at their repartee.
     
    “I’d rather dance with a real live woman!” said Enrique.
     
    “Hey, Lieutenant Aguilera,” said Pedro. “Bet you do a mean tango! Why don’t you join us at the Palacio later?”
    Tino waved them off, saying, “She’s too good a dancer for the likes of you guys. Forget it, you haven’t a chance with this lady.”
     
    Laughter erupted from the men within earshot, even Enrique and Pedro, who’d been the brunt of Tino’s jest.
     
    Carrying the evidence kit and extra bags, Tino walked over to Qui. “Lieutenant, the evidence is bagged and tagged, ready to go.”
     
    “Good. Check it in while I start the