| CHARLES TURNER P.I.: |
| My Lady |
| OF |
| Spain |
| chapter 1 |
| New York/Friday, May15, 1998 Cafe Lalo. This is where she used to work. It's a coffee/pastry shop on w.83rd St. and Amsterdam Ave. in Manhattan. I'm sitting in front of the window, staring outside... off into the distance. My cappuccino is getting cold, as I look through the New York Times open in front of me. Aihnoa. Can't get her off my mind. It's been 5 months now. I know she's gone, just can't let go. Taking her picture out, staring, a tear began to fall. I wiped my eyes hurriedly (no respectable P.I. would be caught dead crying). Gently, I put her picture back in my pocket, returning to my cold cup of coffee and the sports page. A short, stocky gentleman walked in. I've seen him in here several times since January. He went to the counter to ask Monica (Ms. Sanchez, the manager) something in spanish... "No, she hasn't been here since Christmas," she replied. Chubby then sat at a table and ordered a cup of coffee. Christmas. That's around the time she left. Just when I got her off my mind... oh well. I returned to my paper when 10 minutes later, a slender, medium height fellow came in and sat with the shorter guy. "What's wrong?" " She hasn't been back... she's missing," thee heavy set gent answered in spanish. he wasn't Dominican or Puerto Rican, but a Spaniard. His accent was castillian, I remembered what... "Aihnoa?" "Si." 'Oh shit!' I thought, as their conversation continued. I had hoped for a clue... one last chance... "What are you going to do?" "I must find her. Hire someone maybe..." as that sounde like my cue... "Excuse me por favor, habla es ingles?" I understand spanish much better than I speak it. The two gentlemen had been caught off guard, but the heavy-set gent answered... "Si, how can I help you?" as they both looked at me strange. "No, no. I can help you" as I handed them my business card. "I can find her, Ms. Akutain." Their spanish conversation restarted and I couldn't keep up with them, This went on for a minute before he turned back to me... "My name is same as yours... Carlos, Carlos Sanchez. This is my good friend Humberto Martinez. Mr. Turner, you know her?" I thought for a quick moment, wanting to figure out how much to tell them... "Yeah, I've known her for a while now. I know her friends here and was planning to go overseas with her." "Bueno, I will also need you to find Cassandr Vicario... si?" We talked for 2 hours. Cassandra was a name that I remembered... but from where? Maybe it was a piece of the puzzle that that I would need. Carlos said that he was Aihnoa's uncle. He offered me $25,000 to find both of them (also all expenses paid... not bad for my first case). After certain details were worked out, the three of us loaded into Carlos' Jeep Cherokee 4x4 and drove a few blocks to a Chase Manhattan bank. We sat in the branch managers office (who apparently was a personal friend of Carlos and Humberto) when a teller brought an attache case and gave it to Carlos. He counted the $20,000 and closed it. "Mr. Turner, I'm giving you $10,000 up front and another $10,000 for expenses. I pray to God that you find Cassandra and my Niece." "Mr. Sanchez, if for whatever reason I don't find them, I will return your 10 thou and what's left of the expense money. But believe me, if she's alive, I will find Aihnoa." next... |