The San Isidro Mysteries 02: The Chinaman in the Well

"We will both fetch it," he said, leveling the pistol at her.

As they climbed the stairs, Porcia knew she had to escape; after everything he had told her, she was sure Estanislao Javier would not let her go.

She led him into her bedroom and pointed to an ornately carved teak box on her bureau. It had three panels, the middle one was covered by an ornate lid while the sides each had two tiny drawers carved into them.

Javier smiled, sure that the list had to be hidden somewhere inside it. In his haste to get to the box, he dropped the hand that held the pistol; seizing her chance, Porcia swung the heavy leather folder she was still holding at Javier's face, his head snapped back at the force as the pistol fell to the floor. She swung the folder again, but this time Javier parried the blow with one arm, and grabbed the folder with the other hand. A scuffle ensued as they grappled over the folder. Knowing she was no match for his strength, Porcia pulled at the folder and suddenly let go, Javier lost his balance and fell, hitting his head on the bureau. Stunned, he lay motionless; Porcia looked for the gun, but it had been kicked under the bed during the struggle. When Javier stirred, she stomped him on the groin, ran out the room and through the short corridor that led to the stairs.

Andrés kicked the Fuentes' front door when he heard the terrible scream of pain. He ran toward the stairs, just in time to catch Porcia in his arms as she flew down the stairs.

"Are you hurt, Porcia?" Andrés could not mask the fear in his voice.

Porcia shook her head, as she clung tightly to his shoulders.

"Es...tanislao Javier is upstairs, he fell...he had a gun," Porcia said, gasping for breath.

A noise above them alerted Andrés, he quickly pulled Porcia behind him; they both looked up and found Señor Javier standing at the top of the stairs, a confused look on his face, he swayed slightly then toppled down the steps. Porcia gasped when they saw the ten-inch sundang buried in his back.

"Stay here," Andrés commanded, drawing out his revolver and climbing the steps two at a time. He felt the blast of cold December air from the open window as he entered Porcia's room. As he looked out, he saw the figure of a man running on the roof of the next house.

"Stop!" the jefe called out.

The man continued to run, jumping onto the next roof.

Andrés took aim and fired one shot over the fleeing figure; the man threw himself down. He quickly got up, but the jefe immediately fired a second shot, the fugitive cried in pain, clutched his shoulder and rolled down the roof.

"Get Sargento dela Paz here quickly!" Andrés shouted to the shocked passers-by below.

"He's gone, Jefe, we searched all the streets in this distrito and we could not find him," dela Paz said later that evening.

"He must have had someone with him, then," Andrés said, "Send out a warning to the men, Sargento, the fugitive is an Indio, but taller than most, dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers, unfortunately, even with this full-moon, I could not make out the exact color. He is wounded on the right shoulder and emphasize that he is dangerous."

The sargento nodded.

"I'll inform them right away...how is Señorita Fuentes?"

"She's still a little dazed, and has some minor scrapes," the jefe answered, "The doctor told her to rest."

"I can post a guard to watch over her house."

Andrés nodded.

"I'll take tonight's watch, dela Paz, thank you."

But when he entered the salon, Porcia was not resting at all; she was kneeling in front of the china cabinet that the late Estanislao Javier had gone through, surrounded by the bibelots and curios he had handled.

She looked up as the capitán sat beside her.

"He kept talking about a list that Ninong Francisco kept," she said, "And he was certain it was hidden in one of these," Porcia gestured at the figurines.

Andrés nodded.

"It was a list of your godfather's frequent clients and patrons, at least that was what some of the ladies we rounded up the other night told us. I'd like to get my hands on that list, too, Porcia."

"It was more than that, Andrés, Señor Javier said it was also a list of their partners."

"Now I know why someone is willing to kill to find it."

He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Your ninong took great lengths to conceal that list, querida, I believe that one of the names on it may be that of his murderer."

"Poor Ninong Francisco," Porcia murmured sadly, "All he ever wanted was to be part of a group...to be called an Isidranon; it seems he chose the wrong people to belong to."

With her free hand, Porcia picked up the salt shaker that Javier had thrown; it was still intact, except for the crack that ran from top to bottom. She disengaged her other hand from Andrés' gentle grip and started unscrewing the shaker's bottom.

"Ninong Francisco taught me where and how to look for a knick-knack's secret. This one has a false bottom, do you see? There is just enough space there to add a few grains of rice, to keep the salt above it dry," she explained, "Andrés, I've had all these for years and I know what each one hides, I have never seen a list."

"Perhaps you missed something, querida?"

Porcia shook her head.

"No, I would always tell ninong what I had discovered when he visited next and he was always so proud that he would...," Porcia stopped and looked at Andrés.

"Except for the last present," she said, "He didn't give it himself and he...he never came back for the next visit."

She stood up and ran to their small kitchen where she had left her purse. When she came back, she was holding Francisco Chua's last present to her - the black ceramic pen.

Andrés watched intently as she removed the pen's cap. She placed it on the table and examined the pen's barrel that she was still holding. She ran her fingers over it, she could not feel anything but smooth cold enamel. She shook it...nothing rattled inside. She peered into the tiny hole, she held it against the light...it was empty. She placed the barrel on the table and picked up the cap. Running her fingers over the smooth enamel, she once again found the tiny latch she had discovered many weeks before. She pushed it and to Andrés' surprise, the slender blade of a letter opener slid out.

"I would never have found that," he said softly.

Porcia did not answer, all she could hear was Ninong Francisco's words:

"Never settle for the obvious, hija."

She looked more closely at the joint that held the blade to the cap; gently, she started twisting the cap loose until she had separated it from the blade altogether. She tipped the cap on to the table and out fell a very small roll of paper. Porcia reached into her pocket and brought out a small case of sewing pins. She rolled the paper's edges open with one pin, stuck one end to the tabletop and proceeded to unroll the rest of the paper with another pin. It stretched to almost a foot: Francisco Chua's list, written in the tiniest of letters.

Andrés gathered Porcia in his arms as the tears she had held back began to flow.

-----

Kidlat moaned as the throbbing pain on his right shoulder awoke him. He was in total darkness, it took a few minutes before he realized he was blindfolded. He tried to reach for the covering but he could not move his hands, both his arms were securely tied to his waist with some coarse binding.

"Ah, you are awake, at last," a soft almost gentle voice said behind him.

"C...Capitán?" Kidlat asked hesitantly.

"Oh no, I am not the good jefe," the man chuckled

"We are far from being officers of the law, Kidlat," a second voice said.

"Who...who are you, then, and how did I get here?"

"You were knocked unconscious, amigo," the first man answered, "when you fell off that roof. San Isidro's jefe is quite a marksman, hey, compadre? As to who we are - Kidlat, we are just like you, members of the same society - that you chose to betray."

Kidlat swallowed in fear.

"I have never..."

"Betrayed us? Ka Kidlat, you betrayed us when you accepted money to murder Francisco Chua. We learned most of it from your late friend, Maximo de Leon; there was just one thing he could not tell us - the name of the one who paid you to kill Chua."

Kidlat did not answer.

"We have very unpleasant ways to make you talk, Kidlat, you know that, don't you?"

Kidlat nodded slowly then hung his head down.

"I'll tell you," he whispered, defeated.

-----

The sargento stretched his arms over his head - he had spent the night at the precinto - and since beds were not provided for the members of the police force, (the honorable alkalde-mayor deemed it a waste of resources,) dela Paz had been far from comfortable.

He looked at the clock on the table, it was only six in the morning. Reluctant to go back to sleep, he stood up from his desk and made his way to the washroom. He filled a basin with water from the tapayan, and bathed his face with it. The ice-cold water brought him wide awake and he groped for the nearby towel to dry himself.

He went back to the main office and woke Murillo, the young cabo, who had also spent the night at the precinto.

"I'll go and get us some pan de sal for breakfast, wait here for the capitán," dela Paz said.

He made his way to the precinto's entrance and stopped short; there in front of him, on the platform, lay the lifeless body of Kidlat, his arms and ankles bound together with leather cords. Pinned to his chest was a large card that read:

"Cortesia de KKK."

"What will you do, Andrés?" Porcia asked, as she sat across the jefe's desk at the precinto.

It had taken almost a week to go through the list they found; she was still amazed at how small the letters written on it were; Andrés had to request for a special magnifying glass to be shipped from Manila to San Isidro. It was the only way they could read what her Ninong Francisco had so painstakingly recorded; and what they eventually found out could affect San Isidro's future.

"Can't we just arrest him, Jefe?" dela Paz asked.

"No, we cannot, we have no concrete evidence to do that. All we have is his name on a list of investors in Chua's opium business...and there are half a dozen other names besides his, as well. All we have is proof that they were party to withholding proper tax payments on what they were earning...not to murder."

"But he and the others were the only ones to benefit from killing Chua, the den was operational even after they killed him," dela Paz said

"And they sought to keep everyone from finding out about Ninong Francisco's death, Señor Javier told me that he still received telegrams from him after he was killed." Porcia added.

"Don't you think I know all that? But they are nothing more than circumstantial evidence and hearsay; as much as I want to, I cannot arrest Alkalde Tomás Reyes for murder based on...conjecture."

Andrés stood up and walked out of the office. Dela Paz and Porcia looked at each other quietly across the desk.

"He's right, Señorita Porcia," dela Paz said, a few moments later, "there is no prosecutor in the islands who will accept our case as it is. In the past few months I have worked with him, the jefe's method has always brought about the best results."

"I know," she said and followed Andrés out of the room.

He was standing just outside the main entrance of the precinto, smoking a stick of Tres Coronas. She watched him as he slowly blew smoke rings into the afternoon sky. Her heart ached at how tired he looked.

She stopped beside him and took his free hand in hers, lifted it and kissed the palm.

"I know you'll find a way," she said.

-----

Abel watched closely as the supremo's faithful companion, a man called Sisto, examined the different leaves and seeds he had gathered earlier that day. Abel knew them as common varieties, mostly weeds, really, that grew by the wayside. He was surprised when Sisto told him that they were all poisonous.

"This is what we shall use," Sisto finally said.

He showed Abel and the supremo five small red berries nestled in his hand.

"These are the berries of the matang-iring," he added.

"How will you administer them?" Abel asked, "he'll certainly suspect something if he has to swallow all five."

Sisto chuckled.

"All that is needed is one, Abel, and the berry does not need to be swallowed for it to be effective."

"Watch...and learn, Abel," the supremo said, with a smile.

Sisto placed one berry on the table. He took a small knife and crushed the berry with the flat side of the blade.

"Do not touch the juice," he warned Abel as he left the room. A few moments later, he returned with a blow-dart and three slender arrows. He took one arrow and very quickly dipped the pointed head into the juice, he did the same with the other two arrows.

"We will really only need one arrow," the supremo said, "the other two are insurance. Besides, I do not want him dead, just paralysed."

Again, Sisto chuckled.

"Oh, he will be, for the rest of his sorry life."

-----

Two days later, the residents of San Isidro heard some very startling news: the alkalde-mayor, Tomás Reyes, had suffered a near fatal heart attack and the doctors who were summoned declared the poor mayor was now totally incapacitated - and was likely to remain so - for the rest of his life.

When the members of the town council were informed of the mayor's fate, all of them submitted their resignations to the governor of the province.

-----

The wedding of Señor Capitán Andrés Gonzales to Señorita Porcia Fuentes early in the New Year was a lovely, albeit intimate affair; only their immediate family and dearest friends witnessed the ceremony; but the wedding feast right after was vastly different. It was held at the vast Monteclaro estate which Lucas Regalado and his lovely wife, Maria, had generously lent to the bride and groom as a present, since they could not attend the nuptials as Maria was expecting their first child.

Porcia looked around the sea of smiling faces that surrounded her, searching for her Papá and Mamá; she saw them seated together, her mother's head on her father's shoulder, they had aged considerably in the months of Mamá's recuperation, but there was peace, at last, on both their faces. Across them, were the two cucheros who were debating which potent brew was better: the older Illuminado preferred lambanog, but Julio, after tasting the Cerveza de San Miguel, declared the new ale far better than his friend's choice.

"You must learn to educate your palate like I have, compadre," he said to his friend, which caused Sargento dela Paz's own lager to go down the wrong way.

"Best wishes to you both! May I kiss the bride?" Abel asked as he approached the bride and groom.

Andrés laughed and gave his permission. After a quick peck on Porcia's cheek. Abel reached into his pocket and drew out a red envelope.

"This was delivered to the shop yesterday. It's addressed to you, Andrés. It's from Rodrigo Chua."

Porcia noticed the strange smile on her husband's face.

"How generous of Señor Chua," she quickly interjected.

She knew what the red envelope contained - the Chinese called it lucky money, a substantial amount, no doubt, judging from the thickness of the envelope.

"Please give it to my wife, Abel, I just vowed to share everything I have with her," Andrés replied.

As Abel handed the envelope to Porcia, Andrés saw the triple letter "K's" on the young man's wrist.

"Do you know who delivered it?" he asked Abel.

"Why, yes, Mang Sisto is his name, he's the town hilot and I've heard he visits Señor Rodrigo regularly to massage his legs."

"Ah, yes, I remember being told that," Andrés said.

He reached into his coat pocket and took out the box of Bryant and Mays.

"The next time you see Mang Sisto, have him give this to Rodrigo Chua, I believe it belongs to him," the capitán said as he dropped the matches into Abel's hand.

With a nod to the slightly surprised young man, the jefe tenderly took his wife's arm and led her to see to their other guests.

Andrés had finally discovered what the triple "K's" stood for: the Katipunan, an underground society of men and women, bent on wrestling independence from Spain and the friars, by violent means, if need be. They called themselves patriots, but the Spanish authorities and the Church labeled them insurrectos. Andrés was not there to take sides, he was there to protect the people of San Isidro and he was certain he and the society would soon meet again.