A False Dawn

SEVENTY

After Ron had gone home for the night, I agreed to meet Special Agent Lauren Miles for a late bite and a drink. She had picked the place, Reflections on the Bay. It was more trendy and pricey for my tastes, but I was hungry and the government was buying. Earlier I’d filled her in on the events at Club Xanadu and my conversation with Santana. I had given her Santana’s cell number, and she was working with the phone company for GPS coordinates or cell tower pings.

Lauren said, “No chip and no usage. Looks like it was a throw-away phone. Nice move using the bouncer to get Santana on the phone.”

“Did you find anything else on him?”

“We don’t know the depth of his ownership in Club Xanadu, but it’s owned, or partly owned by a holding company called ShowBiz Productions. They own a half dozen clubs in Florida, one in Atlanta and one in Dallas. Looks like ShowBiz is tied to Exotic Escorts, the online escort service I mentioned. It, of course, is a front for prostitution. All the women go by aliases.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. What’d you find on the sale of human organs?”

“We believe Santana heads an international export company Orion BioLife, LLC. It offers human organs for sale online. Website says they’re in the business of connecting human ‘donor’ organs with those ‘in need.’ Except there is a price. The prices aren’t listed. The buyer bids on whatever he or she needs, such as a heart or kidney. If the bid is ‘acceptable,’ the organ is shipped, counter-to-counter, usually overseas. A Japanese CEO could have a new kidney in forty-eight hours.”

“The whole concept of ‘donor’ gets blurred when these organs are auctioned to the highest bidder,” I said.

“Exactly, but Orion BioLife says the costs are to cover administrative, logistics, and travel arrangements. They say the organs are received from family of the deceased. The dead person was allegedly someone who wanted his or her organs sold after death to help defray funeral costs and help the surviving members of the family. It’s illegal, but so is prostitution. Both are selling body parts.”

“BioLife is probably charging a half million in shipping and handling charges.”

“Something like that,” Lauren said.

“Can you find a location, assuming they have a brick and mortar address?”

“Online you have little to go on. You try to follow cyber tracks to someplace that will ultimately unveil the identity of the criminal or criminals. Although, there’s a demand and the Internet makes it easier to connect, it’s harder to track.”

I sat back in the chair and watched a palm frond sway in the warm Miami night air. I could smell the ocean. In a dark corner of the restaurant, I saw the manager, a middle-aged man, rest his arm on the shoulders of a college-aged waitress. He rubbed her back, his gold wedding band winking in the dark of the alcove.

Lauren said, “What are you thinking about?”

“You don’t want to hear. I’m thinking about how too many people with wealth and power abuse those without it.”

Lauren traced her index finger across the lip of her wine glass. “I guess I’ll think twice before I ever ask you what you’re thinking,” she said with a smile. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me tonight.”

My cell rang. “Ought to grab this. Probably Ron, or maybe Dan.” I could see there was no caller ID in the display. “This is O’Brien.”

“I know who it is.”

I immediately recognized the voice. It was calm, total control, a subtle undertone mocking. I said, “Santana…how’d you get my number?”

“Where you left it, in a convenience store, right there for the world to see. Convenient for me. Inconvenient for you. It was pleasant chatting with you earlier today, Detective O’Brien. Oh, I know you’re not with the Miami Police anymore, but you’re still a detective. It’s in your blood. Sort of like what I do is in my blood. We’re blood brothers, O’Brien. I can’t change it anymore than you can change what you do. Took you years to find me, but you finally got there. I’m glad it was you.”

“And I’ll get to you, Santana.” Lauren’s eyes were popping.

“You can call me Miguel. You failed to find me because I didn’t want to be found. But I didn’t go away completely, Detective O’Brien. I realigned my operations farther inland from Miami. Nobody seems to notice when a few stray sheep are missing. Then you stumble along, years later, and start causing roadblocks. If you didn’t cost me money, I would actually enjoy the irony. After I read about your early retirement, I wondered if it was because of me, or am I indulging in self-gratification? And now, here we are again.”

“I’ll find you.”

“I’ll find you first, because I already know where you are. This is the last time we’ll chat, Detective. Cat and mouse games bore me. I can’t make money doing it. I can’t screw it. I can’t consume it, I can’t sell it, so what’s the use? The next time we speak it will be your final words on earth. Have you ever wondered what you’d say?”

“Listen to these words: I’ll be there when they inject you.”

Santana laughed. “O’Brien, the woman you’re sitting next to, the one sitting up so perfectly straight, love her posture, she might be next. Very erotic and so stimulating when they fight hard. After I’m done with her, I’ll sell her piece by piece. Maybe I’ll keep the edible parts for myself.” He laughed and disconnected.

I held the phone, my pulse hammering, hand shaking, sounds of the traffic on Collins Avenue echoing like military tanks reverberating and coming toward me. I stared at the small screen on the phone not sure whether to toss Lauren to the floor. Shooting wasn’t his style. Too impersonal.

Lauren leaned closer to me. “I’ll start a trace on your phone now! Maybe there’s a chip in this phone. If not, we’ll find the tower closest to wherever he placed the call.”

“He’s watching us now.”

“Oh shit! Is he watching through a rifle scope?”

I stood. “Don’t think so. He likes death up close.” I looked through the bougainvillea. A Ferrari was purring at an intersection, the driver waiting for a traffic light to change. A stretch limo drove slowly by the restaurant, the reflection of neon rolled off the black windows like rainbows.

Across the street were opulent high-rise condos glowing from the polish of money. Outdoor lighting showcased manicured landscaping that was imported from the islands. Canary date palms swayed in the warm sea breeze.

“Lauren, we’re sitting on an outdoor patio enclosed by a six-foot wooden trellis covered with bougainvillea.”

“What are you saying?”

“The only way Santana could see us sitting here is from a high elevation.”

I looked at the highest oceanfront condo across the street, slowly scanning from the palms to the balconies overlooking the dark Atlantic. I could see muted shapes drinking and lounging in the million dollar cages. “We have three high-rise condos all within easy viewing of this restaurant, especially the top half dozen floors of the condos.”

Lauren stood from the table. “You think that Santana is on one of those balconies watching us?”

“Yes. And right now you’d better triangulate the cell call to one of those buildings, because if he’s there…he won’t wait for us to find him. Let’s move!”