Malevolence

The Harland was a nicely landscaped, upper-middle-class hotel conveniently situated near Universal Studios, which made it a perfect place for families to stay who wanted to see a real Hollywood studio up close and enjoy the rides and restaurants on Universal City Walk. When Rosemaria came in the front entrance of the hotel, a tour guide was gathering a group of people and herding them out to the tour bus parked outside. Rosemaria walked up to the desk, relieved that she no longer had to hide what she was doing from Osborne. She told the clerk, a young lady who looked like she could still be in college, that she was there on behalf of the Beverly Hills Police Department. The clerk seemed slightly alarmed.

“Is everything all right?”

“I’d like to talk to the maid who cleaned up rooms on the second floor two weekends ago. Would that be possible?”

The clerk searched her computer and came up with a name. “That would be Consuelo Vargas. She should be up there now.”

Rosemaria thanked the clerk and walked upstairs, noting this was the stairwell closest to the side door that led to the parking lot. So, Maryanne had probably been dragged down this stairwell. She opened the door to the second floor and walked leisurely past several rooms, then stopped in front of an open doorway to a room in the process of being cleaned. She peeked inside and called out, “Hello? Consuelo?”

A young Latina lady came out of the bathroom, somewhat concerned and nervous. “I am Lupe Saldana. Consuelo is down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

Rosemaria continued down to the next open door and saw a pleasantly plump Latina woman in her thirties vacuuming the room. Her back was turned. Rosemaria walked in and tapped her lightly on the shoulder. The woman, startled, turned toward Rosemaria, and turned off the vacuum cleaner. “Oh, excuse me, room not ready until one.”

“I’m sorry I scared you. I’m not staying here. I just want to ask you a few questions about what happened here two weeks ago.”

“Por qué?”

“I’m working with the Beverly Hills Police Department.” When she saw the worried look on Consuelo’s face, she hurried to say. “I’m not with ICE. I don’t work for them or have anything to do with immigration.” Consuelo looked somewhat relieved. “Really, I just want to ask you about someone who was staying in room 203 that weekend, someone who seemed important and had people working for him. Comprende?”

“Si, enchilada grande.”

“Exactamente. You remember him?”

“No one ever saw him too good. He was very secret. His people were here all weekend, but he only come one time Saturday and late Sunday. And then that poor girl ran away from them in the parking lot. Lots of people saw that. But they moved out fast, before police come.”

“After they left, did you find anything they might have left behind? Any papers that you threw away before the police came to search the room?”

“No, no papers. I tell police that. But two days later, I found calzoncillos under the bed. So sorry I not do good job cleaning.”

Rosemaria was excited. “You found some boxer shorts? You think he had left them?”

“Pretty sure.”

“What did you do with them? Do you still have them?”

“I wash them and give to manager to send to his address, but he had no address, so I don’t know where they are.”

There goes the DNA, Rosemaria thought. Well, she almost had a clue. “If you can find them, call the Beverly Hills Police Department, okay? Someone will pick them up.” Maybe forensics could still find some DNA.

“Did anybody who works here see or hear anything that you think might help me figure out who this guy is?”

“Lupe heard man talk on phone for a few minutes. She was outside the door when he was talking. She had finished her floor and was helping me, like today.”

They both walked back to the room where Lupe was cleaning. As soon as she saw them, she started backing away in fear.

Consuelo tried to reassure her. “Está bien. Ella no está con inmegracion.”

Consuelo turned back to Rosemaria. “She frightened. Immigration came to her neighborhood in San Fernando to arrest undocumented people. She hid with some nice people till ICE gone. She came back to work today.”

“Tell her she doesn’t have to worry about me. I just want to ask what she might have heard two weeks ago from the people in room 203.”

“Ella preguntar sobre un hombre malo,” Consuelo explained to Lupe.

“He seemed like a mean man, but you didn’t meet him?” Rosemaria asked Consuelo.

“His people not nice to us. She hear hombre malo yell at them sometimes.”

Rosemaria addressed Lupe. “Qué le oiste decir?”

“No entendí.”

“Even if you didn’t understand what he was saying, was there anything about the way he talked? Cómo habló él?”

The two women exchanged words, speaking too fast for Rosemaria to understand. Consuelo turned back to Rosemaria. “She say he talk like her favorite TV show. She watch it to learn English.”

“What show is that?”

They chattered fast to each other again.

“She say on channel with old shows. Very stupid people on show but funny.”

Rosemaria mulled this over. Stupid people? A lot of those on TV. “Is it a comedy?”

Lupe told Consuelo something else in Spanish. “She say is funny. She say name is Greefis.”

Greefis? Comedy named Greefis. The light went on. “You mean Griffith? Andy Griffith?”

Lupe came to life and smiled. “Si, Andy Greefis! Man in room talk like him.”

“Thank you, Lupe! You have helped very much! If anybody else was working here and saw or heard anything, will you ask them to call me?” She handed Consuelo her card. “Muchas gracias, señoras.”

Consuelo took the card, and they promised to call if anyone else knew anything. “No quiero ser despidida,” Consuelo said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let them fire you,” Rosemaria said and walked toward the stairs.

As she walked down to the ground floor, she felt elated. Well, well, well, now they had confirmation that the big shot was a Southerner. That narrowed it down to O’Donnell, Maxwell, Haynes, Lorenzo, and Sackheim—unless he was a lobbyist or government official, which was entirely possible. The guy in room 203 obviously had something to hide if he didn’t even allow the help to get a glimpse of him. And where did he stay when he wasn’t at the Harland? Maybe at the Island under a different name? Before the murder, he obviously thought he was going to spend time with hookers at the Harland without being recognized, hence all the secrecy.

She decided she’d better call Osborne right away and tell him what she’d found out. She dialed his number as she walked out the entrance. If Lupe could listen to recordings of these guys talking, they might nail the SOB.

“Darryl, I’ve got good news.” She told him what she had found out from Lupe. “Tell Waite to get voices off the internet of the five Southern politicians and possibly others on your radar, and send them to me so I can play them for Lupe. Oh, and Consuelo has his boxers, or will have, after she tracks them down. Somebody should come pick them up. Unfortunately, she washed them, but you never know.”

“And get photos of all the male assistants who work for Haynes, O’Donnell, Maxwell, Lorenzo, and Sackheim. See if any of them match up to the police drawing we have of Maryanne’s attacker.”

Osborne was elated. “Will do. Good work, Rosemaria. If Lupe recognizes the voice, then all we have to do is find evidence he was at the Island when Maria was murdered and connect him to all these other crimes. Hopefully, we can match the drawing of Maryanne’s attacker with one of the pictures. By the way, we all but eliminated O’Donnell, but we’ll let Lupe listen to his voice as well.”

“I’ll leave the easy stuff to you.” Rosemaria laughed. “But I’m here if you need me.”

She was just about to pull out of the driveway entrance to the hotel when she saw a black van drive in. She noticed the government license plates. “No, no, no!” She did a fast U-turn in the driveway and pulled into a parking spot. Two men from the van, with the acronym ICE on the back of their shirts, were already on their way inside. She jumped out of her car and followed them. Maybe they weren’t here for Lupe, but they were about to turn somebody’s life into hell.

The two men got into the elevator. Rosemaria raced up the stairs to the second floor, two at a time. She arrived a few seconds after the two men. They had already seen Lupe and were about to take her into custody.

Rosemaria was horrified. “No! She hasn’t done anything wrong! You can’t do this.”

The men from immigration ignored her and proceeded to handcuff Lupe, who was shaking and crying. Consuelo came down the hall and was shocked to see Lupe being led away.

Rosemaria followed Lupe and the men from immigration into the elevator. She pulled out her ID. “I’m from the prosecutors’ office. We need this woman to testify in a case. If you want to take her later, okay, but not now. I’m talking about a murder case. We absolutely must have her stay in the country.”

The men from ICE looked at her like she was a bug they wanted to stomp on. One of them said, “Not our problem.”

They reached the ground floor, and Rosemaria followed them out to the van, still trying to convince them to release Lupe, who was looking at Rosemaria, her eyes imploring her to help.

“Lupe, don’t give up, honey. I’ll get you back. Stay positive, okay? I’ll find you.”

The door of the van slammed shut. The men from ICE didn’t give her another look.

Rosemaria watched, helpless, as the van pulled out into the street. She pulled out her cell phone, hit the speed dial, and waited for someone to pick up. “Larry, I need a huge favor.”