Saturday, January 6, 2018

Chapter 13

   Celestina Plank was not quite the stunner that Nikea had described, but she was indeed attractive for her 44 years. Yaritza had decided to be a hard-ass with the woman from the get-go, long before meeting her. There was just something about the vision of an older woman playing a younger guy that irked her.
   When Celestina answered the door, she was wearing a bathrobe, a short one, even though it was just past noon. Yaritza had alerted her of the impending visit via telephone. The woman was not terribly excited about the prospect of being questioned, and when Mark Robertson’s name came up, she was even more apprehensive on the phone. However, the idea of being arrested for obstructing justice made her more agreeable.
  “Detective Esteban?” Mrs. Plank greeted coldly.
  “Yes. May I come in?”
  “Do I have a choice?”
  “It makes me friendlier when we sit and chat. Standing at the door makes me damn irritable.”
   Celestina led her to a brown leather sofa, then sat in a matching chair. When she sat, she crossed her legs. Yaritza glanced at them briefly as she sat, and got the feeling that the legs were uncrossed when male visitors called on her. The shortness of the robe implied that Mrs. Plank either had a visitor prior to her appointment, or someone was coming shortly after Yaritza left.
   Plank stared at her. “I guess the dyke told you all about me.”
  “And what dyke might that be?”
  “The sweet Mrs. Robertson.”
  “So far she’s sweeter than you.”
  “We can cut this short right now. This is my house.”
  “Yes, and your name, along with your husband’s, has been mentioned as possible suspects in a murder. I would think you’d rather get your name cleared immediately.”
  “I think that’s what my attorney is for.” Celestina’s voice held an icy tone that Yaritza was ready to melt.
  “I think she’s also your husband’s attorney, and his word will override yours.”
   Celestina’s cocky smirk vanished immediately. “You do your homework, don’t you?”
  “It’s my job. Now, about Mark Robertson?”
  “I haven’t seem him in a very long time.”
  “When he broke in?”
  “Once or twice after that. I found, however, that finding men in that casino was hard when he was there watching me.”
  “Did you love him?”
   The iciness returned briefly, but it was more directed at herself. “I love nobody.”
  “Not your husband?”
  “Not anymore. Not sure I ever did.”
  “None of the other men you brought here?”
  “They’re meat, and that’s all.”
   Yaritza couldn’t help a small smile. “I think some men in this town could learn from you.”
  “That’s who I bring home.”
  “What?”
  “Detective, do you date?”
  “When the vibrator goes dead.”
  “Funny. I’ve lived in this fucking town for 25 years. I used to date and date and date, looking for that one guy who’d sweep me off my feet.”
  “You never found him.”
  “I found guys who thought a cheap line would sweep me into a bed, or onto a bar or bathroom counter.”
  “Did it work?”
  “A few times. No, more than that. I finally realized that males in Las Vegas don’t know what love is. Because of that, I forgot the meaning, too.”
  “But you married.”
  “I married.”
  “But you didn’t love.”
  “I didn’t love. I didn’t know how. But I knew how to fuck, in more ways than one.”
  “Tell me.”
  “I knew how to fuck a cock, and knew the positions. I also learned from the past. I knew how to get into a man’s head and make him feel loved and wanted.”
   Yaritza’s eyes narrowed. “And then make him feel nothing.”
  “I wanted revenge on those who killed my emotions.”
  “And you got it on Mark.”
  “And he was the only one I got revenge on. The rest wanted nothing but my body.”
   Yaritza stared into Celestina’s eyes. Yes, there appeared to be real pain there, even though it was shielded by years of ice cover. “Why are you still in this house? I mean, isn’t this where your husband caught Robertson breaking in?”
  “I’m a prisoner, Detective, and have been since that night.”
  “You can’t leave? I don’t seem to recall slavery being reprised in this country.”
  “No, not a slave, a prisoner. There’s a difference. To be a slave, well, that would involve me being used for sex in this day and age. But James won’t even fuck his own wife anymore. Here’s the thing, though: I can have anyone I want here, and I can fetch them. But I have to live here.”
  “Why?”
  “I have money coming to me every week, and if I leave, the money does, too. I signed an agreement and it’s very binding. The only catch is, my husband and I do not sleep in the same bed. That was agreed by both of us.”
  “Your husband’s lawyer drew up the agreement?”
  “Yes, and we hired men to remodel the guest room into a second master bedroom, which is mine.”
  “Does he sleep with her?”
  “Yes.”
   Yaritza cleared her throat. “I wonder if you have a motive to kill Mark Robertson.”
  “Does someone want to kill him?”
  “Someone did, we think about a week ago.”
   Mrs. Plank’s eyes looked as though they were about to get wet, but she retained her iciness just enough to keep them dry. “He didn’t deserve that.”
  “No, I don’t think he did.”
  “But I never felt anything for him emotionally.”
  “He felt for you, though, apparently.”
  “He did.”
  “Not even a little feeling got into you for him?”
  “If guilt is a feeling, I guess I felt that.”
  “Have you been out of town recently?”
  “Yes.”
  “Where?”
  “I went on a drive to Reno.”
  “Alone?”
  “Yes. Since I did not get pulled over for anything, my presence there would be hard to prove. But you can ask around if you want to waste your time.”
   Yaritza felt as though she were done. The woman sitting near her was an empty shell of a person. It was possible that she killed Mark, though a true motive was lacking at the moment, and she had no more questions to ask. Then, a thought struck her. “What about James?”
  “What about him?”
  “Does he have a motive for murder?”
  “No. He took pity on Mark.”
  “I doubt it was pity, I think he took the opportunity to put you in his power. Mark was expendable in every way.”
  “I guess so. I don’t know, James is James.”
   Yaritza sat back. “This is what makes the case so hard.”
  “What?”
  “There’s no true motive to kill this guy.”
  “You’re putting a lot of effort into it, aren’t you?”
  “Too much. But, it’s my job to look. I think I’ll talk to James, get his input. He works for a law firm, right?”
  “Yes, Jefferson-Brown.”
  “What kind of law?”
  “Mostly family stuff, some criminal. I never took an interest.”
   Yaritza nodded and stood. She pulled a card from her wallet. “I doubt you’ll use this, but I’ll give it to you anyway.”
  “What is it?”
  “Rape counselor.”
  “I haven’t been raped, Detective.”
  “Maybe not in the traditional sense. I know you think of yourself as a predator in control. You’re not in control, though.”

   Celestina silently took the card and looked at it. At least she didn’t tear it apart immediately. Yaritza took the silence as a cue to stand and leave without another word.

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