Dreams of Destiny Pt. 12

“Do they take Master Card?” Juan asked.

“No. But I have it covered. You can buy me dinner when we get back to San Angeles.” She made the call. The food would be there in 20 minutes.

“Do you want a beer?” Destiny asked.

“Okay.” He noticed a beautiful wooden chess board in a corner of the dining area. “That’s a great chess board. When’s the last time you played?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t remember. Do you play?”

“A little.” He down graded his ability not wanting to scare off.

“Me too.” she lied. She was an accomplished player. Do you want to play a game?”

“Sure.”

Destiny made room for the board on the kitchen table. She rummaged in her closet for her box of chess pieces. When she found it she ordered Juan to close his eyes and pick a piece. He picked white.

They set up the pieces. “Where did you find this set.” The pieces were in perfect proportion for the board. They were simple, but beautifully carved. The dark pieces were reddish in hue. The white were made of an ivory colored wood that Juan couldn’t identify.

“I got it at an antique store near Bethany beach. The owner didn’t know what a treasure it was. I felt like a thief when I bought it for fifty dollars. It’s worth five time that price.”

“At least,” Juan agreed.

He opened the game by moving the king’s pawn up two spaces.

He’s going for a fast game, Destiny thought intuitively.I’ll bet he’s an aggressive player. She made a traditional counter move and the game was on. They thrust and parried in a vigorous contest of wills. Juan was an aggressive but well measured player. Destiny’s game was more uneven, but she had flashes of insight that kept her even with Juan. They were well into the mid-game when the doorbell rang. Destiny had just maneuvered her queen into a critical position in front of her bishop.

“Saved by the bell,” Juan said, with admiration in his voice.

Destiny grabbed her keys and some money and ran down stairs while Juan pondered the board. She paid for the food and tipped the driver.

“I’ll put a plate of food together for you while you think,” Destiny said as she walked into the kitchen. The lasagna was hot and the salad was fresh. Destiny piled food onto two plates. She pulled the last beer out of the refrigerator and stuck it in pocket of her shorts. Then she carried the two plates, utensils and napkins into the living room, ready to continue the chess game.

“Thanks,” Juan said as Destiny handed him a plate of food. He put it down beside the chess board. Destiny sat down and they started up the game again as they ate.

Juan saw found a way out of Destiny’s queen attack and a few pieces were exchanged. The balance of power shifted to Juan, but Destiny played a waiting game. They found themselves in an end game with almost equal forces. Destiny had her queen, a bishop and four pawns. Juan had two rooks, a knight and three pawns.

“You are a treacherous player,” Juan said, amazed as Destiny launched another attack. He stopped her attack cold with a knight fork.

“So you only play ‘a little’ chess,” Destiny retorted. Her king was well protected She sacrificed her queen but ultimately got two rooks. A lucky break. Juan’s concentration had lapsed a bit. It was going to come down to a pawn race. They both made mistakes and let each other off the hook a couple of times. It was a draw in the end.

“You paid for dinner,” Juan said, so I’m going to do the dishes.”

“That sounds good to me.” She smiled as she realized how compatible they were. She switched on the TV as Juan carried the plates and glasses into the kitchen.

Aristotle must have heard the television. He came out of the bedroom looking groggy. He walked over to Destiny and lay down at her feet. Top Cat was still asleep in Aristotle’s bed. Destiny hoped that bedlam wouldn’t ensue when the cat finished his nap. It was already ten o’clock. She turned the channel to a Star Trek, Voyager rerun and gave it half of her attention.

She stroked Aristotle’s head. He made a satisfied sighing sound which awakened Top Cat. Top Cat stood, arched his back, put his ears back and hissed.Uh Oh. He jumped out of the bed and looked at Aristotle.

Aristotle stood up and looked at Top Cat curiously. Top Cat arched and hissed again. Aristotle cocked his head and looked at Destiny. “Good boy,” Destiny said delighted at the dog’s intelligence.

Top Cat hunkered down. “Sit, Aristotle,” Destiny commanded. Aristotle complied. “Stay.” She walked over to Top Cat and sat down next to him. Mrroww, Top Cat complained. “Its okay lover,” Destiny soothed him. She let him sniff Aristotle’s scent on her. He looked back at the bed after he sniffed Destiny’s hand. He relaxed visibly. He rubbed up against her leg as if to say it was all right. She stroked his back. He started to purr.

This was too much for Aristotle. He wanted some attention, too. He stood up and walked over to Destiny. He bumped his head against Top Cat. Top Cat stood his ground. Destiny watched as they became friends. In less than five minutes Top Cat was asleep snuggled up next to Aristotle. Destiny walked into the kitchen. “You won’t believe this,” she said to Juan. He had just finished wiping up the counters. The dishwasher was grinding away. “Come take a look at our family.”

He followed her into the living room. The two animals were sleeping peacefully curled up next to each other. “It was pretty much love at first sight” Destiny said.

“I know how Aristotle feels,” Juan said. They sat together watching the television for a while. The 11:00 p.m. news was boring so they decided to call it a night. After all of the emotions of the past five days they were both pretty well wrong out. All they wanted was to fall asleep in each other’s arms...

Chapter XXXII

Esteban was awakened by the telephone. It was mid-morning and he was in his suite at the hotel. He was slightly hung over and sick with disorientation. He picked up the phone. “What?” he said brusquely into the telephone.

“Is this Major Rodriguez?”

“Si . Who is this?”

“This is Abe Finch, from the San Angeles Times.

“Oh, hello. When are you going to print the story?”

“Well there’s a problem.”

What’s the problem. I gave you what you need.”

“You gave me something, but I’m not sure what it is. When I went to my editor he got all hot and bothered. When he asked me my source I told him about the American tourist, and the connection to Major Rodriguez. He wanted to know more before printing the story.”

“I told him I got the tip from a confidential source but hadn’t talked to the American yet. He told me to hold off on the story. He said I’d better make damn sure it was true before I put anything on his desk about it. I went to the hotel looking for Lysander and no one could tell me where she was. I waited for hours at the hotel and she never appeared.

“While I was at the hotel I talked the hotel manager. He affirmed that Colonel Rodriguez had been attacked in Lysander’s room. But he didn’t know anything about the Colonel spending the night with the woman. I asked every employee I saw and no one would affirm an affair. All I got was that they were seen dining together two nights ago.

“Then I got a call from my editor. He told me the president had called him about rumors of a fake sex scandal and threatened to ruin the newspaper if the story got printed.”

“Damn it, Esteban thought angrily.They keep cutting me off at the pass. “You saw the documents. They’re genuine. Your editor’s playing politics. Don’t you think it’s fishy that Colonel Rodriguez and Lysander are missing.”

“I did some digging, Major, Finch said. He was furious. You know what I found out? The documents are fake. It was your father, not your uncle, that had the incestuous affair. What were you trying to do? Ruin me? I would have been crucified if that story had been published as I got it from you. I have a wife and children, God damn it. What were you trying to pull?.”

“Nothing, Esteban said. “I stand by my story. Your information is wrong.”

“No, I believe it’s true. And it’s quite a story although I don’t know if it’s ever going to get printed. What I want to know now is why you wanted to set up the president and Colonel Rodriguez. On the record, of course.”

“No, not on the record, Abe. Remember, I know all about your little gambling habit. You have quite a nice bill at the High Stakes Casino. You wouldn’t like it if they asked you to pay up,” Esteban said nastily. “We all have secrets, don’t we? I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

Finch was speechless. “You wouldn’t do that,” he said finally.

“Of course I would if have to. I want to see what you dug up on my father. Fax it to me .” Esteban gave Finch the fax number at his suite. He was thinking quickly.Could he get any political currency out of the present situation. It would still look bad for Juan if it came out that he cooked up fake documents and had his lover turn them over to the press. Destiny and Juan were missing so they couldn’t issue a denial.

The fax from Finch came in ten minutes later. It was all there: The proof that Katarina’s baby was fathered by Manuel Rodriguez. The rest was basically the same. Information about how Katarina left the island and how the baby’s identity was hidden until the girl grew up. He wondered how Finch got it so quickly.

After he read the documents he called Finch back. He tried to mollify Finch. “All right, maybe Lysander’s documents were wrong about the father’s identity. But it’s still a good story. I want it printed with the Lysander as the source.”

“I don’t know if that’ll happen. My editor’s pissed as hell and scared that President Rodriguez will use his political clout against the paper if anything gets published at all. You want us to smear the most prominent family on the island.”

“I’m counting on you,” Esteban said in a threatening tone.”

“Threats won’t get this story published. It’s in my editor’s hands now. It’s a matter of whether or not he has the balls to print it. Don’t you have any dirty little secrets about him to give him encouragement?”

“Go to hell,” Esteban said, slamming down the receiver.

Then he started thinking.Maybe he could get something on the editor. Everyone has skeletons. Let’s see what the net has to offer.

He logged onto his computer and accessed the newspaper’s web site. It contained biographical information about the editorial staff.Great. This is a start. He punched in the editor’s name. Fernando Vilchez. He was born on Aruba and came here to work on the paper 16 years ago. He saw now71 years old. Married? Yes. To a Rose Mary Guisti. Italian. I didn’t know he was married. Definitely not from the island. I’d know that name. How old is she? 42. When were they married? 1977? He was forty eight and she was 19. Wow. Talk about an age difference. I wonder how he got her? Maybe I’m on to something. Wait a second. I’ve seen him around the city with a young blond woman. She couldn’t have been 42 years old. Is there anything about a divorce in here? Legal separation, not divorce. Ah. Catholics on both sides.

I wonder.... He thought for a moment. Then he started punching the keys rapidly. He didn’t get what he wanted right away. He stayed at it for a while and then he said “Gotcha.” He’ accessed the Court records and pulled up a copy of the separation agreement. Vilchez had lost an arm an a leg in the separation 15 years ago. He was still paying $1,500.00 per month in alimony.That a lot of money for a newspaper editor. I wonder if he’s current on his payments? He worked for a little while longer. Bingo! Pay dirt. I love computers, Esteban thought happily. $20,000.00 behind in alimony. And I’ll bet he doesn’t have any retirement set aside. Whistling between his teeth Esteban spent some time trying to get access to Vilchez’ bank records. No luck. He kept getting bumped out. He tried for tax records. No luck again.

Okay, how about your credit rating. He tapped away at the keyboard until he got what he wanted. Sure enough, Vilchez was up to his ears in bad credit. His house had three mortgages. His credit cards were just about maxed out.How on earth are you keeping a float, old man? Esteban wondered with glee. He’d seen enough. He printed out what he wanted and made three copies.

Then he called the newspaper. He covered the telephone receiver with a rag to muffle his voice just in case the newspaper taped its telephone calls. The bitchy secretary wouldn’t put Esteban through without a name, so he told her to have the editor call him about his wife’s alimony payment. She told him to hang on, and put him on hold. A gravely voice came on the phone almost immediately.

“Who is this?” Vilchez wanted to know.

“I could be a friend” Esteban said with a muffled voice .

“What’s that supposed to mean” the editor said rudely. “I don’t have time for games.”

“Okay, old man. I don’t have time either. I have learned that you are in some serious financial trouble, don’t have a pot to piss in and the newspaper is ready to send you out to pasture.”

Esteban was guessing about the last part but he had hit the nail on the head. The old man’s heart started to pound in his chest.

“That’s a bunch of crap,” the old man said brusquely. Who told you that?”

“Its not crap. So be cool and listen. I know you owe your wife $20,000.00 and I know you’re out of credit and out of time. I also know about your expensive blond friend. “ This was another accurate guess. “Like I said, I want to be your friend. For one small favor I can get you out of your financial trap.”

“Sure you can. And I believe in the tooth fairy too. Go to hell. The editor slammed down the phone. His pulse was racing. What if the caller was telling the truth?Could there really be a way out of his financial dilemma? The phone at his secretary’s desk rang again less than five minutes later.

“It’s the same guy,” the secretary said over the intercom.

“Put him through” the editor said. He prudently turned his answering machine on so tape the conversation.

“Did I get you attention?” The voice was muffled.

“Maybe. What do you want, and what are you offering?”

“Are you taping this conversation?”

“No, the editor lied.”

“I think you’re lying but that’s okay. Here’s the deal: One payment of fifty thousand dollars into any account you specify. How does that sound to you”

“Mildly interesting.” The editor was getting excited. “What do I have to do.”

“You received information about an illicit affair between the president and his cousin.”

His hopes fell. He couldn’t print that story even for a million dollars. It was a proven fraud. “That story is as fake as fools gold.”

“Yes, but the underlying story is true. And it would be a real scoop.”

“What do you mean?” Vilchez asked.

“The story about how Juan Rodriguez’ American lover brought the fake documents into San Angeles and conspired to bring scandal to the presidency. And then how it turned out that the story was about the Colonel’s father, not his uncle. It is a great scandal, and it has a wonderful ironic twist, don’t you think?”

“And if I print this you will give me $50,000.

“Yes.”

“You must think I’m senile. That story would bring disgrace to the most prominent family on the island and embarrass the president, and I don’t even have a confirmed source.”

“But you have the documents”

“I have copies of some fake documents and some documents that might be real. I have the name of an American tourist who has never been interviewed and is nowhere to be found, a statement that the colonel had dinner with her and a rumor that he spent a night in her room. That’s not much of a story. It’s certainly not enough of a story to destroy my career over. Not for $50,000 anyway.

“You also have confirmed that Colonel Rodriguez was assaulted in the tourist’s room, and they seem to have disappeared together shortly thereafter.”

“There’s no way to know that the assault had anything to do about the papers. And their disappearance just means I can’t get statements from them.” It’d be irresponsible to print the story on what I’ve got.” Vilchez knew the story was bigger than he was making it out to be. But he figured that if he was going to print it he should get as much money as possible. After all, this was his one big chance at getting out of his trap and having an easy retirement. He’d go for broke. The stakes were very high. President Rodriguez didn’t want the story published in any form

“You’re a news editor, not at tool of the president. You know a good story when you see it. You’d be stupid to bury this story.”

The caller had a point. Vilchez wasn’t ready to give in yet. “I’d make very powerful enemies if I published the story. $50,000 is chicken feed. I don’t know who you are, but I’d say you have a strong motive to see the story published. Stronger than $50,000.

Esteban knew he had the publisher hooked. “How much to you want?”

The editor felt like he was going to pass out.Is this really happening or is this just some wild dream that I’ll wake up from in a few minutes. He took the plunge. “$500,000” he said, into a bank account that I’ll confirm this evening before we go to press.”

“$100,000, and you get it after publication.”

“Do you think I’m a fool or are you just playing games?” the editor asked angrily. I’d have to have at least $250,000 before printing and another $100,000 when the paper hits the streets. After that, I’ll leave the island and let someone else clean up the mess.

“You drive a hard bargain. Esteban was tired of the game. $100,000 tonight at press time.” He knew it was more than the editor had ever hoped to see for retirement. “I’ll give you a number to fax me a copy of the story before printing. If I okay it, I’ll authorize the transfer to you account.”

“No. I need $200,000. Up front, His heart was in his throat. He didn’t want to go too far, but he wanted just a little bit more.

“You’re making me tired, old man,” Esteban said. “But I like your style. $150,000, up front. That’s more than I planned to pay but you’ve earned it. Here’s the fax number.” He gave Vilchez a number of a fax machine in an all night copy shop in the middle of town. He wanted to be careful that the story couldn’t be traced back to him.

Esteban was well satisfied with his bargain.

The editor, too was pleased. He was pretty sure he knew who was behind the bribe. But what did he care? All he wanted to do was get his wife and his creditors off his back and sail away with his mistress with a little cash to feather his nest. He quickly made arrangements for the money transfer that evening to a bank he knew where no questions were asked.

He told his secretary to hold his calls and called his girlfriend told here they were going to be going on a surprise vacation in a day or two. He happily started writing the article for tomorrow’s paper. He wouldn’t even mention to Abe Finch that the story was going to be printed. It would be his little going away present to the island.

Chapter XXXIII

Destiny and Juan awoke at the same time. They were in bed in Destiny’ hotel room at the Hotel Paradiso. They could tell by the light filtering in the windows that it was morning.

“Well, we’re back in San Angeles,” Juan said sleepily. “I guess we didn’t need those plane tickets after all.” Juan kissed Destiny’s cheek, stretched and got out of bed. He put on a robe and walked over to the telephone. “I have to call my uncle to be sure he’s been able to discredit the documentation. I wish there was some way to track down Esteban. I need to know what he’s up to.

Juan dialed the president’s private number. His uncle answered on the fifth ring. Pietro, its Juan. How are you?”

“Christos, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”