When Darkness Falls

chapter 25

C an I please use the bathroom now?” she said.

The renewed plea from his fellow hostage made Theo cringe. Watching Falcon’s meltdown in the middle of a phone conversation with the negotiator should have been more than enough to take her mind off of her bladder. Theo couldn’t understand why she would say something to provoke him now. Either she was really stupid, or she really had to go. Or maybe, it suddenly occurred to him, she had a plan of her own.

She was sitting on the floor, her back against the wall, right beside Theo. He guessed she was nineteen, maybe twenty, but she was wearing way too much makeup, so it was difficult to tell. She was definitely Latin, with pretty features and a classic, heart-shaped face. Her getup, however, was strictly about sex appeal. Big gold-hoop earrings played against her olive skin and her long, chestnut hair. Her breasts were neither large nor small, but the contraption she was wearing beneath her low-cut blouse had pinched the B-cups together and nearly pushed them up to her chin. The deep red lipstick and heavy eye shadow were the perfect complement to her tight skirt, black heels, and fishnet stockings. Theo didn’t like to judge people, but he knew he wasn’t holed up with a nun.

“I need to go,” she said. “I need to go now.”

“Shut up!” said Falcon. “No one’s going anywhere!”

“I meant to the bathroom.”

Her response didn’t seem to register with Falcon. He had a vacant look in his eyes, as if part of him had just checked out. “You can’t drink now,” he said.

“I don’t want a drink. I need to use the bathroom.”

“It’s too soon.”

“In thirty seconds, it will be too late.”

“If you drink now, you’ll die.”

She and Theo exchanged uneasy glances. Falcon was speaking to the young woman, but it was as if he were having another conversation.

“What are you talking about?” she said in a tentative voice.

Falcon started to pace-not the slow, peripatetic movements of a man in contemplation, but a relentless and angry back-and-forth, from one side of the room to the other. “Just shut up, shut up!” he said, slapping his left ear with one hand, clutching the gun with the other. It was the most agitated Theo had seen him since the standoff’s beginning. Neither he nor the young woman said a word.

“Quit your damn whining,” said Falcon. “Ask the doctor. He’ll tell you. If you drink water now, you’ll die. Do you hear me? You’ll just die on me! Is that what you want to happen?”

They weren’t sure if Falcon wanted a response, so they were silent.

“Answer me! Is that what you want?”

She shrank against the wall, as if wishing that she could just disappear. It was a scary situation to begin with, and his harsh tone was clearly pushing her to the edge. Theo said, “Leave her alone.”

“What did you say?” Falcon said sharply.

“I said leave her alone.”

“Qué es su número?”

“Say what?”

“Qué es su número?”

“I don’t speak Spanish, man.”

The Latina whispered through her teeth to Theo, her lips barely moving. “He wants to know your number.”

“What number? You mean my phone number?”

“No, no!” shouted Falcon. “Su número!”

“I got no idea what you’re talking about, dude.”

His eyes filled with rage. He pointed his gun at the woman. “You want me to shoot the bitch? Do you?”

“I don’t want you to shoot nobody.”

“Then why do you make me do these things? Why?”

“No one’s making you do nothin’,” said Theo. “Everybody’s cool.”

“I don’t care if you’re thirsty. Do you want to die? Is that it?”

“I said it’s cool, dude,” said Theo. “Ain’t nobody here who wants to die.”

“Because giving her water right now would be just like squeezing this trigger and putting a bullet between her eyes. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

He might as well have been speaking Spanish again. Or Chinese. “Makes perfect sense to me. No problem. Whatever you say, we’re cool with it.”

“Maybe you just wish you were dead. Is that it? Do you think you’d be better off dead?”

Theo said, “Hey, here’s an idea. Just forget the water, the bathroom, and whatever else it is that’s got you pissed. Forget everything she said. Okay, boss?”

Falcon kept pacing. A mixture of tension and confusion hung in the air. In the dimly lit room, and under these trying circumstances, it would have been difficult to read anyone’s expression. Not even Sigmund Freud, however, could have made heads or tails of this character and this outburst. Did Falcon hear what they were saying and simply misinterpret their words? Or did the sound of their voices trigger entirely distinct and distant voices inside his head? Theo wasn’t sure.

Falcon stepped away from them, shaking his head in disgust. “You know what? Go ahead and drink the damn water. See if I care.” He began to pace again.

Theo made eye contact with the young woman beside him, and they came to a silent understanding. This was a bad situation, and it was only deteriorating. It was too dangerous to sit around and wait for rescuers. They had to help themselves.

They needed to enlist that man in the bathroom.

Theo whispered, “What’s your name?”

“Natalia.”

“Okay, Natalia. Does your friend in the bathroom have a gun?”

Falcon wheeled and started toward them. She waited until he crossed the room, made the turn again, and resumed pacing in the other direction, his back toward the hostages. Then she leaned closer to Theo and whispered in a voice that quaked, “I sure hope so.”

THE DOOR TO the police command center opened. The footsteps were too heavy to be Alicia’s. Paulo turned at the approaching sound. Blind for over six months, and sometimes he still wheeled to face whatever it was that startled him, as if he could see it. He wondered when that instinct would leave him, if it would ever leave him completely. “Chavez?” said Paulo.

“Yeah, it’s me. Got Daden on the line from Nassau. He needs to talk to you.” He put the cell phone in Paulo’s hand.

Paulo felt a surge of adrenaline. He needed a fresh angle with Falcon, and he hoped that Daden and the Bahamian connection would supply it. “What do you have for me?” he said into the telephone.

Daden’s voice was hurried, excited. “Fingerprint search on the handwritten note we found in the safe deposit box just came back. There was a match.”

“Who is it?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t have a name.”

“You just said there was a match.”

“There was.”

“Then who is it?”

“Last week, when the lab pulled that extraneous print from Officer Mendoza’s compact, they entered it into the FBI’s data bank. Well, that’s our match.”

“Wait a second,” said Paulo. “You’re saying that the person who stole Alicia’s purse from that bar in Coral Gables is the same person who took the money from Falcon’s safe deposit box in the Bahamas?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. That’s what the fingerprint tells us.”

Paulo thought for a moment, wondering if there could have been some kind of mistake. He knew better. “Fingerprints don’t lie,” he said.

“No, sir. They sure don’t.”