Yancy, and Beth Jenkins?”
“They said I did.”
“That’s not what I asked you, Felix,” Marlene said gently. “Did you kill those women?”
Felix looked frightened for a moment. Then he shook his head as tears sprang into his eyes. “I didn’t kill nobody. I would never hurt no ladies.” He looked around fearfully as if he expected the detectives to materialize. “They showed me horrible photographs and said I did that to those ladies. I just wanted them to stop. Now I can’t sleep. I have nightmares… And it’s terrible in here. It smells bad and people are mean. And at night… at night… they scream and cry. Please, can I go home?”
It took the women a few minutes to get Felix to calm down. When he finally relaxed a little, Marlene asked him to recall everything he could beginning the night before his arrest. Although Alejandro had told her about Acevedo’s special ability, they were both surprised at the detail of his recollections of what had happened, especially conversations. He seemed to recall these verbatim-from the confrontation with the coat-check girl’s boyfriend to his conversations with Garcia and the police officers who arrested him.
The two women had not yet seen the transcripts of his alleged confession to Graziani and the Q amp; A statement he gave to the assistant district attorney; because of the magnitude of the investigation the DA was still gathering the voluminous police reports to give to the defense. Yet he repeated the back-and-forth between himself and the detectives as though he’d memorized lines from a play.
“I told Detective Graziani that I wasn’t at Olivia’s apartment and he said, ‘You’re lying, Felix. We showed a witness your mug shot; he’s sure it was you he saw coming out of the apartment building. Don’t bullshit me, Felix.’”
Marlene and Alea Watkins had exchanged looks at the mention of a witness claiming to have seen Felix leaving the apartment building. “What did you say then?” Watkins asked.
“I said, ‘Okay, I won’t.’ And he said, ‘You remember being in Olivia’s apartment, right?’”
Acevedo sighed and slumped down in his seat. “I just wanted him to stop asking me questions so I told him, ‘Yeah. I remember now. Olivia. She’s my girlfriend.’”
Marlene and Watkins looked at each other in alarm. This was a new twist. “Your girlfriend?” Marlene asked.
“That’s what he said, too,” Felix replied.
“Olivia was your girlfriend?”
Acevedo started to nod his head but then stopped and covered his face with his hands. “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he said. “I don’t know any Olivias. I hope Maria Elena will go out with me someday.” He wagged his head sadly back and forth. “She probably won’t now that I’m in trouble with the police.”
Marlene reached across the table and patted his hand. “I’m sure she’ll understand when we clear this up,” she said, earning herself a shy smile. “But right now we need to know why you told the police that you killed these women.”
Acevedo looked miserable. “Because they wanted me to,” he said. “And they were angry at me. I thought it would make them stop being mad.” He hesitated and looked at her with his one good eye. “Are you angry at me, too? What should I have said?”
“No, we’re not angry, Felix,” Marlene said, trying to reassure him. “We’re not ever going to get angry, but we need you to tell us the truth, not what you think we want to hear. Okay?”
Acevedo brightened. “Okay.”
That’s when Marlene asked him about the ring. The details of the case against him had already been leaked to the press and then pontificated upon by the so-called talking-head TV experts, who focused on his confession and a mention of the engagement ring found on his person that had allegedly belonged to Olivia Yancy.
Acevedo smiled at the mention of the ring. “I told Detective Graziani I bought it from Al in the park. But he didn’t believe me. He said, ‘You know what, Felix? I think you’re lying about that. I think you took the ring from Olivia Yancy.’ I told him, ‘No, I bought it from Al. It’s for my girlfriend.’ But he said I cut it off of Olivia Yancy’s finger.”
The thought that “Al” might be the killer who cut the ring from Olivia Yancy’s hand quickly crossed Marlene’s mind. Of course, if the cops were doing their jobs, they would have already checked that out and discounted the story. But I still need to follow up, she thought. It wouldn’t be the first time a detective got lazy when he thought he had a case wrapped.
“Do you know where I can find Al?” she asked.
“I see him at Mullayly Park.”
“What does he look like?”
“He’s got a lot of pimples,” Acevedo replied. “And white hair.”
“White hair? Is he old?” Watkins asked.
“He’s older than me but not old. I think it’s not his real hair color.”
“So he dyes his hair,” Marlene said. “How tall is he? Is he fat or skinny?”
“A little taller than me. Skinny.” Acevedo hesitated then spoke. “Am I giving the right answers?”
“Are you telling me the truth?” Marlene asked.
“Yes.”
“Then you’re fine,” Marlene replied. “Was anybody else there when he sold you the ring?”
Acevedo thought about it. “No,” he said. But he must have noticed the disappointment on Marlene’s face because he’d quickly added, “But Raymond was there when Al told me I should buy it for my girlfriend.” Acevedo scowled. “Raymond made fun of me. He said I didn’t have a girlfriend. He might know how to find Al.”
Which is what had brought Marlene and her dog to the park. “Well, Raymond,” Marlene responded to the black kid’s question. “My name is Marlene Ciampi, and I’m a private investigator working on behalf of Felix Acevedo, who you may have heard has been arrested.”
A short Hispanic girl with heavy makeup stepped up next to Raymond. “Yeah, I heard that he cut up some women, which sounded strange to me. I mean, he’s a wimp. I could kick his ass without hardly trying.”
Marlene chuckled. “I bet you could. I don’t believe he’s guilty, either, but to prove it, I may need your help.”
“How’s that?” Raymond asked.
“Well, for one thing, does anybody remember Felix buying a ring from somebody named Al a couple of weeks ago?”
The Hispanic girl started to say something but Raymond stepped in front of her. “Maybe. But this ain’t no tourist booth. Information here costs money.”
Marlene reached in her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “I need twenty dollars’ worth of information,” she said, holding the bill over Gilgamesh’s muzzle. “But it better be good if you want to get paid without losing some fingers.”
Raymond looked from the bill to the dog, who gave a low growl. “Yeah, I remember a dude was trying to get him to buy a ring. Felix said it was for his girlfriend, and I gave him shit about it ’cause he ain’t got no girlfriend. The man’s cherry, if you know what I mean.”
“And this guy with the ring, do you know his name?” Marlene asked, handing over the twenty-dollar bill.
“It’s something Spanish, like Jose,” Raymond replied.
“It’s Jesus… Jesus Guerrero,” the girl said, correcting him. “He tried to hit on me, like I’d do that pizza-faced rat.”
“How would I find him?” Marlene asked.
Raymond gave her a sly smile. “I sure can tell you how to find him,” he said. “But it’s going to cost you ten more.”
Marlene dug in her purse for another ten dollars. “Okay, where’s he at?”
Raymond laughed as he took the money and looked over her shoulder. “He’s heading this way right now.”
16
