Free Cuba Blue by Robert W. Walker Page B

paperwork, OK?
     
    “Sure thing. I’m gonna catch a ride with Enrique and Pedro now. They’ll drop me at the station.”
     
    “Before or after the Palacio?” she kidded.
     
    Tino laughed in reply just as Pedro slammed the doors, temporarily entombing the bodies.
     
    Qui felt the sudden heavy silence of that ambulance interior—how effectively it’d ended all laughter and the night music filling the Havana streets. It made her think of the old Spanish proverb: Only the dead know peace. But did they know music, laughter, and the coolness of a breeze in the night? She spent a silent moment in prayer for Denise and her two friends, whoever they were.

     
     
     
    11

     
     
    Officer Sergio Latoya drove Quiana toward Old Havana and the police station where she’d early that morning parked on a side street held for official vehicles.
    “Hey, Sergio, this is not a formula one car and you’re not in a race! Slow down or we’re gonna end up on Benilo’s slab.”
    “Oh, sorry Lieutenant. Forgot you’re so fragile,” he retorted, slowing a bit. Sergio spoke of baseball, a passion, and he spoke of Carmela, his very pregnant wife, and his anticipation of the birth of his second child, but he seemed as nervous as if it were his first. “You should get married, Lieutenant. A family is a good thing.”
    “I have a family, my father. Remember?”
    “Hey, he’s your father! Not the same thing! I mean a husband, children. Makes a big difference in your life. Sure, we need a bigger place, but show me working folks who don’t?” A characteristic lighthearted laugh chased his words.
    “Have you been talking to Montoya? Has he bribed you?”
    He expertly wheeled the car around a stalled vehicle. “But really, you should think about it. Time is getting on for you, and Time …that fellow? He doesn’t slow down for anyone, not even for the famous investigator Quiana Magdalena Aguilera!”
    “Stop it, Sergio! There is always time! There’re no babies in my immediate future.”
     
    “Ahhh but kids are fun. They make life interesting.”
     
    “Somebody else’s kids maybe.”
     
    “My Carmela, now there’s a woman who loves children.”
     
    “Me, I’d go crazy having children underfoot all day long.”
     
    “But the joys of—”
     
    “Part-time joy suits me just fine.”
     
    “Part-time?”
     
    “When a kid gets fussy, hand ’em back to the parents and quickly leave! That’s my policy!”
     
    Sergio laughed.
     
    “So how’s Carmela doing anyway? She’s due when?”
     
    “In a month,” he replied. “Too soon, we’re not ready for the little one yet. Well…she is, but I’m not!” He drove with great élan and abandon, enjoying himself.
    “Thank God we’re here,” she gasped. “Drop me at the door, and I’ll make out a report before driving home.”
    He turned and drove past a series of dark little courtyards and a bar to arrive at the PNR station. He pulled up too fast for her liking, and with a sudden controlled halt, they’d finally stopped.
    “Sergio, we shouldn’t’ve let you take that driving course! You’re a menace now! This isn’t the cinema!”
    “Hey, I saw Bullet twenty four times! Lieutenant, you need help with the paperwork?”
    “Got it covered.” She recalled Benilo’s admonition: fill in the blanks. “Go home to your wife, drive slower!” Qui chided him, laughing. They made a good team, she thought as she got out, bid him good-bye and made for the steps. She turned in time to see Sergio speed off, leaving a trail of dust in the air kicked up by his spinning tires, leaving her wondering how many sets of tires and brakes he’d cost the department.
    She found the stationhouse at this hour a morgue, only a handful of people on duty and these moved like zombies, but she thanked the gods that neither the annoying Peña nor Gutierrez were on hand. She quickly made out her police report on the triple-murder and placed it into the colonel’s in box and was outside