The Broad Divide
by Anthony F. Castriota
part 1
A persistent buzzing from the intercom interrupted Danny early in the day, shortly after he had arrived at his office in a frenzied state. There was a lot of work that still needed to be done on the audit, and it was really beginning to rattle his nerves. The last thing he needed was another distraction.
“There’s a gentleman here to see you. He wrote to you about a missing person a few days ago.”
“Send him in,” Danny replied through the intercom a bit exasperated, hastily sweeping away the mound of assorted papers strewn on his desk.
A moment later the door swung open to reveal an elderly man dressed in a finely-tailored tweed suit and black bowler hat. He brandished a long cane that lent him an added air of elegance. He approached Danny’s desk and sat down with deliberation. He removed his bowler to expose his snow-white cap of hair.
“What can I do you for?” Danny said brusquely as he adjusted his tie and fidgeted with the lapels of his blazer.
“Good day, detective. My name is Xavier Gilles. I’m afraid I’m here on rather urgent business as I expressed in the letter I sent your secretary.”
“You didn’t send an email? My office doesn’t really accept requests by hardcopy anymore.”
The old man smiled a bit to himself before replying. “Yes, I should have sent an email, excuse me. Old habits die hard for someone like me, I’m afraid. It’s about a woman with whom I’ve been in close relation who’s gone missing for the past month.”
“My apologies,” Danny said, abruptly rising from his seat to shove a folder into a nearby filing cabinet. “I didn’t read it because I’m in the middle of another big case. What can you tell me about this woman you’re looking for?”
“She’s a young woman, long brown hair, green eyes, about 5-feet-8 in height, extremely excitable—”
“No, I mean is there a reason why she would go missing? Did you have a domestic dispute?”
Oh no, nothing like that! She was perfectly happy and, if you must know, we didn’t have the kind of relationship you’re thinking of. She was more like a daughter to me.”
“Were you her benefactor then?”
“Yes, you could say that. She was very talented in the arts, particularly in sculpture, and I wanted to support her in any way I could. She had very little material means, which is in part why I’m so worried about her absence. I’m worried that she could be homeless and in great need at this point. She knows no one else in the city.”
“I see,” Danny trailed off softly. He juggled his pen in his hand, thinking for a moment. “Where did you last see her?”
“It was at the Tanner Gallery exhibition downtown which featured new local artists’ work. It was her official début into the art world. Of course she was very thrilled to be selected for the event. She was scheduled to give a lecture about her work after the inaugural showing, but she never arrived. I fear that something terrible may have happened to my dear Lilian.”
“What makes you say that? Does she have any enemies?”
“None that I know of. She is such a sweet soul. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to harm her. Please Detective Aurturo, will you take the case? I have nowhere else to turn!”
Danny stood motionless for a moment, gazing at the old man’s pleading face. “All right, I’ll see what I can do. If this woman is still in the area, I’ll find her.”
“Thank you very much for accepting my case, detective; I’m much obliged to you.”
Danny pressed the button on the intercom to call the secretary. “Marianne, make certain Mr. Gilles has my contract details before you see him out.”
“Of course, Mr. Aurturo. I’ll make sure he’s given everything he needs.”
Danny quickly looked up. “Thank you for coming in, Mr.Gilles. I’ll update you on the status of the case in a few weeks.”
The old gentleman gathered up his topcoat and hat as he moved toward the door. “Just be aware that I’m willing to pay any price to have my Lilian united with me again. Money is not a concern. We share a very special bond that I deeply cherish.”
“Yes, I understand. I’ll be in touch.” Mr. Gilles gave him a slight bow as he walked out.
Danny opened the door and escorted him out. He let out a brief sigh and quickly returned to his desk to retrieve a large bundle of folders from the drawer. He struggled to put his coat back on while he leafed through the top folder to check some figures.
The secretary entered the office a few minutes later. She plopped another folder on top of Danny’s pile.
“Here’s the new file on Mr. Platonic. What a character! Are you sure you want to take on this case? It seems a bit fishy to me.”
“You think so?” Danny asked, giving her a sarcastic look. “Marianne, I have to take anything I can get right now. I don’t know how well this audit will go. I could owe a lot of back taxes. And, as Mr. Gilles said, ‘money is no object.’”
“It seems pretty damn real to me!” Marianne retorted.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get paid. Have I ever let you down before?”
“No, but I’m afraid at this point you’re about ready to give out. You’ve been running around town like a madman lately. You need to take a break!”
“I’ll take a break when I settle this mess with the audit. Watch the office while I’m at the accountant’s. I’ll be back soon.”
“What should I tell the bank if they call again about the loan?”
“Tell them I want to schedule an appointment with them on Monday, in the afternoon some time if possible. I should have a better idea about how much I can pay down by then.”
Danny grabbed his belongings and raced out the door. “Just be sure you have enough money left for me. A girl’s gotta live, too!” Marianne called after him.
* * *
Only a few visitors were milling around the gallery when Danny arrived. The receptionist welcomed him at the entrance warmly, offering to take his coat, which he refused. He didn’t expect to stay long. He made his way along the short corridor into the main hall, where the newest exhibits were displayed.
Browsing art galleries wasn’t something that particularly interested Danny, but this place held the best lead for the case at the moment. He read the placards as he passed by each exhibit, noting the name of each artist in turn. What he saw didn’t impress him, but that wasn’t the purpose of his visit.
He discovered that he didn’t really need to pay attention to the name tags to find what he was looking for. A large sculpture stood before him of a frenzied woman with long wisps of hair that writhed like serpents about her torso. In her arms she cradled a platter upon which rested a man’s severed head. She emerged out of the black stone like a cloud of vapor suddenly solidifying into concrete form.
Danny checked the placard beside the sculpture which read ‘Salomé by Lilian Trujillo — basalt, synthetics.’ This was the sculpture he was after, but he wasn’t prepared for the leering expression of the figure, verging on bloodlust. The grotesque contortions of her face confronted him all the more so due to its stark contrast with the tamer company on display in the rest of the gallery.
A man in a dark business suit approached Danny from behind. “Quite a remarkable work, wouldn’t you say?”
“Oh, I would say,” Danny replied, suddenly awakened from his spell.
“Allegedly the artist’s inspiration for this piece came from Gustave Moreau’s painting of the same subject matter, but its dramatic expression is more reminiscent of the work of Niccolò dell’Arca’s Compianto sul Cristo morto, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know very much about art.”
The man gave him an apologetic look. “Oh, excuse me... Let me properly introduce myself. I’m Darren Tanner, owner of the gallery.”
Danny held out his hand for a quick shake. “Danny Aurturo, pleased to meet you. Did you know the artist who made this sculpture?”
“Yes, but I only met her briefly. She was a woman of very few words. She didn’t have any to share with the gallery on the opening night of the exhibition, apparently. It seems that she’s gone missing.”
“That’s why I’m here. I’m investigating her disappearance. Would you have time to answer a few questions?”
“Yes, I suppose, but I’m not sure if I can be of much help.”
“Can you tell me anything about her? Even if it seems unimportant, it might make the difference.”
“Well, from what I remember of the short bio that she submitted with her application to the gallery, she didn’t have any existing family to speak of. She was from Mexico originally, a small village located near Guadalajara. She was working under the patronage of a man named Gilles, I believe.”
“Had she been living in Albuquerque for long?”
“I don’t believe so. In fact, I think she had only been here for less than a year.”
“Did you witness anything unsettling about her relationship with Gilles or anyone else? Was there anyone you think who might have wanted to hurt her?”
“Her relationship with Mr. Gilles was strange to be sure, but you’d be surprised how much of that you see in the art world. There’s no shortage of eccentricity in this profession, but certainly nothing criminal from what I could tell between the two of them. She was a very mysterious woman. I never learned much about her during our brief encounter.”
The receptionist walked up to them swiftly. “I’m sorry to interrupt Mr. Tanner, but you have an urgent phone call.”
“Please excuse me Detective Aurturo, I must leave you. If you have any further questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. I’ll have my receptionist give you my details on your way out.”
Danny was left alone in the hall with his thoughts churning. What drove this woman to create such an impressive work of art and then vanish without a trace? This job would require more than just the standard footwork, but the pay was too good to pass up. He knew he could use whatever money he could scrape together as quickly as possible, and solving this case would be like hitting the jackpot compared to his usual casework of tailing cheating spouses or collecting incriminating evidence to pin a sticky-fingered employee in an embezzlement scheme. He had to admit it: this case had an undeniable allure which stirred up his investigative instincts.
After a quick stop for Mr. Tanner’s business card at the reception desk, Danny hit the streets. The sun glared down harshly, as it did most days, but the air was beginning to cool with the approach of autumn. At least he wouldn’t have to work the streets during the driest heat of the year as he had been doing lately. Living in New Mexico his whole life didn’t help matters much when he was on the move for a good part of the time, but that was the nature of the job. He rounded the corner and headed toward the tamale stand a few blocks away. He saw José leaning against the side of the trailer in his standard pose smoking a freshly rolled cigarette.
“Hola! ¿Qué pasa? What’s new, José?”
José took a drag from his cigarette and looked at Danny critically. “What, you speak Spanish now? What you need from me?”
Danny let a bemused grin slip from his lips. “I’m looking for someone, a woman in her mid-20s by the name of Lilian Trujillo. Have you heard anything through the grapevine?”
José paused and then tamped out his cigarette under his foot. “Yeah, Holmes, I’ve heard the name mentioned.”
“She’s been missing for over a month now. I have an interested party who would like to find her.”
“Seems that she’s a hot topic around here lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that I think a lot of people would like to make her acquaintance. That’s why she’s in hiding.”
“Why would she want to hide, and from whom?”
“I don’t know, bro, you’d have to ask her yourself, but I hear she’s not the talkative type. That is, if you can find her at all. No one knows where she is.”
“You don’t have any information about where she could possibly be?”
“Maybe you could find her in the Bosque or the foothills near the edge of town. That’s probably where I would go if I didn’t want anyone to find me, but I don’t have any concrete leads.”
Danny stood thinking for a moment, trying to assess his next move.
“Hey, you want some tamales? I just made a fresh batch.” José tilted his head in the direction of the trailer.
Danny stalled for a moment in thought. “Sure... thanks for the intel. I’ll take a dozen to go.”
* * *
Danny watched as the sun arced westward from its zenith through his windshield. His bag of half-eaten tamales lay cold and greasy on his front passenger seat. They sat heavily in his stomach, but he knew the sensation would soon pass. The morning’s work had produced little result and fewer leads. Danny had already ruled out kidnapping or other foul play. Apparently she was on the run, but from what? Her motivation for disappearing remained as mysterious to him now as at the start of the investigation.
After some thought, he decided to follow up the Bosque lead. Questioning vagrants and other old-time denizens who wandered the less frequently trodden corners of the city had confirmed José’s speculations about her current hideout. There was word of a camp of homeless who were occupying a spot along the river there, which might yield further clues if not the subject herself.
Danny stepped out of his car and made his way along the entry trail into the Bosque. The cottonwoods loomed on either side, their branches now turning an orange brown. The change of season had still not removed all of their soothing cover from the beating of intense sunlight scarring the landscape. There were only a few couples on the main trail, apparently tourists strolling about attempting to take pretty postcard photos for their families back home.
Danny walked briskly and with deliberation into the interior of the park, then turned toward the river. He walked until in the distance he could spy a small clearing partially obscured by some thick Anderson wolfberry bushes. The clearing was filled with vagrants moving slowly around, some communing with each other, others engaged with setting up cooking fires or unpacking their scavenged treasures from their tattered knapsacks.
As Danny approached the encampment, an old man with an unkempt graying beard spotted him.
“We don’t want no trouble, officer.”
Danny tried to put the old man at ease. “I’m not here for trouble. I just want to ask you a few questions.”
The rest of the camp fell silent and stopped what they were doing to dart accusing stares at the new arrival. Danny scanned the group’s dour faces and gave an apologetic look.
“Look, I just want to ask if anyone here has information about a young woman named Lilian Trujillo. She was reported missing a little over a month ago.”
“Lilian? What do you want with her?” a woman from the camp called out. “She doesn’t want to talk with no police!” The wrinkles of her face deepened with her suspicions.
“I’m not from the police department. I’m a P.I. looking for this woman on behalf of a concerned party. Any information you can tell me might save her life. She could be in danger.”
“The only danger she’s in is from that man who she was with,” the old man interjected. “But I suppose a bruja can take care of herself.”
“Wait... what? You’re saying she’s a witch?”
Copyright © 2023 by Anthony F. Castriota
