Wetback cop

He swam over the border 35 years ago hunting what they all hunted: easy blondes and fast money.

But something weird happened.

A year later, while on his knees in The Lady of Our Suffering Bloody Jesus Christ Almighty God Church in the big city’s barrio, a statue winked at him and said:  Do right, jovencito.

And he did do right.  He entered night school and volunteered with Meals on Wheels. Years passed. He gained citizenship, and he earned a Master’s Degree in Criminal Justice for Minorities.

He changed his name from Manny to Mark — Mark Montoya — but he never lost his love of tacos because you can take a Mexican out of Mexico, but you can’t take tacos out of a Mexican.

That was, as mentioned, about 35 years ago and now Montoya is a lieutenant at the Fourth Precinct. He’s seen lots of easy blondes and fast money, neither of which he ever touched because of what the winking statue told him.

Do right, jovencito.

But he isn’t so jovencito anymore.  He is 55 years old, and eligible for retirement with full medical coverage and an absurdly fat pension.  Gracias, public union!

He’s solved lots of crimes in his police career, but there is one open file in his drawer that obsesses him. The name on that file is Kristanabel Wasoo.

The serial killer.

* * * *

Kris at 15

Though he’s never seen her in person, he’s on a first-name basis: Kris, he calls her, and his desire to cuff her keeps him awake on dark, stormy nights.

There was a prison mugshot, of course, but he prefers this photo from Kristanabel’s parents’ album so many years ago. Montoya flips it over.

To mom and dad on my 15th birthday.  You’re the very best !!!!!  Love and kisses!!!!   XXXXXXX

Dated just three days before she shot them dead in their bed.

Kristanabel is hard to catch because she lives on her looks.  She uses men.  She uses them for money, to get jobs, usually in bars as a barmaid.  She uses men to get fake identification, so her name is ever changing.  And then she kills them.

She is a phantom, as hard to grasp and corral as cold fog on a winter-gray morning in the high Nevatumblas.

* * * *

Montoya  jams Kristanabel’s file back in his desk drawer, grabs the snub-nosed .38 Police Special and shoves it into his holster as he stands.

No, he mutters to himself.  Retirement can wait.  I have work to do.

This case holds just one clue, her sole weakness:  rare roast beef sandwiches and cold dark ale.

Our cop heads to a delicatessen near the Marbol Hotel.

* * * *

(One of a series titled  The Marbol Hotel.)

11 thoughts on “Wetback cop”

  1. LOL… I had the exact same thought as Barb and loulou bateau.

    Saludos,

    Kim G
    Boston, MA
    Where we hope to never meet the likes of Kristanabel.

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  2. Possibly the heathen, Kris, has met her demise! After all, the Virgin, has had Her eye on Manny from the start. But, with the wink of an eye, our writer of tales, when under the influence of an Unseen Moon, can dash wishes with the stroke of a pen! Myself, may Kristanabel live her collective life as long as the Marbol still stands!

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