Kingdom of God Read online

  A burst of wind hit Sool, Jen and Michael as they climbed out of the passenger-side door. Michael put on a pair of sunglasses and baseball cap. The detective gazed over the metropolis from the top of the hill. A yellow haze blanketed the city. The border fence was visible through an alleyway some fifty meters away. A stray dog skulked around a plastic blue oil drum outside of another home. The wind blew the empty barrel on its side, startling the dog.

  Sool walked around the front of the MTVR. He approached an ajar metal door installed in a cinderblock wall. A layer of soot dusted the wall. A marshal standing beside the driver-side door of the red pickup watched the three investigators approach the building. He nodded in Sool’s direction.

  “Bueno,” Sool said. “¿Sin cuerpos?"

  “No,” the man replied.

  “Pero incendio.”

  “Claro, claro.”

  Sool gripped the door with both hands and yanked it open. A cloud of ash dissipated inside the doorway, revealing the burned remains of the building’s interior. Only the four exterior walls were standing. A wooden canopy over the right side of the cinderblock structure had collapsed on its side. The frames of a dozen twin-size bunk beds were pitched in the corner to the left of the entrance.

  Sool stepped through the doorway and lumbered through the ashen piles on the floor. His eyes traced each pile. Michael stepped through the doorway.

  “Detective Barrish.” Michael turned around. Jen was standing in the middle of the street between the MTVR and the building’s entrance. She motioned Michael to come closer. He complied. “We’re trying to limit radio comms.”

  “Right.”

  “You used your phone.”

  “I know.”

  “I didn’t hear a clearance on that call.”

  “It’s an SDPD line. It’s safe. I promise.”

  “Who was it? At SDPD?”

  “Just Juan. He’s one of our most loyal guys. He does full-time work down here.”

  “For how long?”

  “Long enough.”

  “We can’t afford any leaks.”

  “I know.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Okay.”

  Jen turned her attention back to Sool. The man in the orange t-shirt traipsed over the collapsed planks that once served as the building’s interior walls. He approached the bunk beds. He bent down and patted underneath each bed. He stood back up with his hands empty.

  “Joe and I were talking,” she continued. “We’d like you to take the lead in questioning the pastor tomorrow.”

  “I thought our guy was good with witnesses.”

  “He’s off. I can’t discern what it is. We have to do something to get him back on track. A little collaboration might help.”

  “It’s been a while since I interrogated away from home.”

  “You can still get his help if you need it. Joe’s got a lot of faith you. I wish you were that confident in yourself.”

  Sool rubbed the back of his neck and twisted his head back and forth. He made his way to the structure on which the steeple was erected. Scorched wood surrounded the cathedral windows. A cloud of black dust hovered inside the sanctuary.

  “I, uh...found out where Heriberto is,” Michael added. “He’s with PT. He turned himself in yesterday.”

  “So we don’t have to question him.”

  “You don’t think he did this?”

  “Los Hermanos are more likely. Probably covering their tracks.”

  “A lot of trouble to go through just to cover your tracks.”

  “Maybe they don’t handle adversity well.”

  “I’d still like to speak with him.”

  “No. He’s PT’s problem now.”

  “Turning himself in means he has more friends inside than out. It’s protection.”

  “We agreed we weren’t going after him.”

  “Can’t you call in a favor? See if we can just get five minutes?”

  “We’ve called in enough favors, detective.”

  “We could never get guys already in custody. Maybe the Bureau can help.”

  “We have too much tied into this case. We’re not going after a low-level player like him.”

  “Turning yourself in is not a low-level move.”

  “It’s going to alert PT to our operation here. And they have nothing invested in him. If he has nothing to do with the bombing, then-”

  “I’m just worried we’re going to find the bodies of eight kids at the end of all this. You don’t think PT is invested in that?” Jen surveyed the horizon for a moment. She fixed her gaze back on Sool. He emerged from the sanctuary empty-handed.

  “I’ll see what we can do.”

  Sool kicked over a large sheet of plywood, revealing another pile of ash beneath it. He sauntered around the cinders of the orphanage. He pulled out another cigarillo from his pocket, put it between his lips and ignited it.

  Lord Lord.

  What are you doing? Who are you? I do not know where my brother is. I would not tell you anyway.

  Lord Lord.

  Are you police? Are you a journalist? What is your name? What is your name? What is your name? Why won’t you tell me your name?

  No.

  How dare you come into our home and say these things.

  No no no no no.

  Julio would never do the things that you say he did. He is a good person. He is innocent. I know he is innocent. He could not do something so terrible.

  No no no no. My Julio no.

  He could never hide something that like from me. He did not provide for his family. I provide for this family. I take care of my mother. She is very sick and you are making it worse with your lies. You are going to kill her with your lies.

  No no no no. No no no no.

  No. No I will not speak to you. How dare you come into our home and say these things. You have the devil about you. You are a terrible man to come here and say these things. We are a family here. This is my mother. We have each other. I do not want to speak to you. I will not speak to you or the people in the neighborhood. I see it in their eyes. I see the judgment in their eyes. They are wrong. Julio is innocent. We are not scared by you. We have the truth on our side. I am not frightened by you. Please leave. I said leave. Get out of our house. No I am telling you to get out of our house. We do not know where Julio is. You should tell us where he is. He should be at home and away from people like you. We will not talk to you. Get out of our house right now. We have nothing more to say to you. Get out of our house right now.

  Michael drew the curtain over the window in his living quarters. The sunlight still filled the room. He poured over meeting notes on the desk while tucking in a light blue polo shirt into his khaki pants and buckling a belt around his waist. He picked up his badge, sidearm, a multi-tool and four zip ties off the desk and clipped them onto the belt.

  The notes detailed Agent Chau’s conversation with Wendy Robinson over self-deleting instant messaging program. The special agent pleaded with Wendy to come out of hiding and assist with the investigation. The young woman insisted that she could not meet. She said her life was in danger. Jen explained that their investigative team included ten specially trained army soldiers that could guarantee her safety, and that they could meet at any location of her choosing. Wendy had yet to reply.

  Michael wedged his cell phone between his right shoulder and his clean-shaven cheek. He held a pen in his right hand. The ringback tone hummed in his ear.

  “Hello?” Mary answered.

  “Hey, Mar. I had a few minutes, I just wanted to see how you were doing.” He scribbled a few more notes on his pad.

  “Fine.”

  “No problem getting out of work early?”

  “No.”

  “How was tee-ball?”

  “Fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “Yeah.” A small red light on the landline telephone flashed. It emanated a shrill bong. Tonya’s voice crackled out of the speaker. “Detective Barris
h, Mr. Poneros just checked in.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Come on, hon. I can tell when something’s up. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Just tell me. What is it?” He heard Mary sigh on the other end of the line.

  “Sam forgot to pick up Cole at practice yesterday.” Michael dropped the pen.

  “He what?”

  “He’s fine, don’t worry. But he was alone at the park for a while. Maybe we should get him a cell phone or-”

  “What do you mean he forgot to pick him up?”

  “He didn’t pick up Cole after school. I already grounded him. He’s going to miss band this-”

  “How long was Cole out there?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe two hours.”

  “Two hours?”

  “It wasn’t even dark yet. We actually found him getting ice cream.” She started to laugh.

  “Is this funny to you?”

  “No but-”

  “Where the hell was Coach Joe?”

  “He thought Coach Ron was going to stay and he thought Joe was going to stay. Just a little miscommunication, that’s all.”

  “Ron wasn’t there either? Are you fucking kidding me? I’m going to fucking wring his neck too.”

  “Michael, it was an innocent mistake. What’s gotten into you?”

  “When were you going to tell me?”

  “I didn’t think it was that big a deal.”

  “Not a big deal? Are you fucking high?”

  “Hey, don’t talk to me like that. At least I’m here to pick him up.”

  Michael heard the sound of high heels clopping down the hallway. There was a knock at the door. He rushed over to the door and opened it. Jen was standing in the hallway. Michael twisted around and turned back toward his desk.

  “Okay, I’m sorry.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You think I can’t tell when something’s up? What’s going on down there?”

  “It-it’s nothing. I’ll explain later. I got to go. Bye.” Michael hung up and pocketed his phone. He grabbed his notepad, pen and a manila folder off of the desk and stepped back toward the doorway.

  “Is everything all right?” Jen asked.

  “Yeah. Pastor’s downstairs?”

  “Yes.” He stepped passed Jen and into the hall. “And Wendy from the church org replied. I set a meeting with her tomorrow.”

  “Excellent. That’s great work.” Michael pointed to her as he marched down the long marble corridor.

  Michael could hear a child screaming as he approached the end of the hall. He stopped in front of the small flight of stairs that descended into the cavernous waiting area. An array of round tables and chairs were spread across the floor. Only two of the twelve tables were occupied. A toddler roamed around the room holding a toy airplane high above his head. Two parents attempted to corral him back to their table with a fruit snack.

  At the opposite end of the room, an older man sat hunched over a book. He possessed a stocky build with curly, copper-colored hair and deep red skin. He sported a trimmed goatee surrounded by several days-worth of stubble. He wore a light brown t-shirt, cargo shorts and large fedora. Michael opened the manila folder and peered at the photo of Pastor Poneros. He held it open as he ambled down the steps toward the man. He closed the folder and tucked it under his arm.

  “Mr. Poneros?”

  “Yes.” The pastor looked up with a broad smile. His voice boomed throughout the waiting area.

  “I’m Detective Michael Barrish. I’m with the San Diego Police Department.”

  “Well hello there, Detective Michael Barrish. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The pastor bolted out of his chair and shook Michael’s hand. “I’m here for an appointment with a consul agent. What brings you here?”

  “I’m conducting an investigation. I was, uh...actually wondering if you could answer some questions.”

  “Oh sure. Oh sure, I’d love to. Absolutely. I’ll actually be meeting with the consul agent soon. Can I still-”

  “You’ll still meet with her.”

  “Oh good. It’s very important I meet with them. It has been a trying few days. I could really use the support.”

  “Can we uh...do this in private?” David twisted around to look at the clock on the wall.

  “Oh, do you mind if we do it here? I really don’t want to miss my meeting. I would hate it if they called my name and I couldn’t hear it and I missed my spot, you know?”

  “Okay.”

  “Great.”

  The pastor retook his seat. Michael pulled one of the empty chairs out from under the table and sat down across from Mr. Poneros. The pastor reopened his bible. The boy with the toy airport continued to yell and clomp around the floor behind Michael.

  “Do you know why I’m down here?”

  “No, actually. You didn’t say. You said you were conducting an investigation or something along those lines.”

  “I’m investigating the bombing at the border.”

  “Oh terrible. What an awful thing to have happened. I’ve been praying for the victims. It’s been really something to see this community come together around this tragic event, come together around the families. Blood drives and donations. It’s something. I’ll be praying for you too. For your safety.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you a man of God, sir?”

  “I’m going to be asking the questions, Mr. Poneros, if that’s okay.”

  “Oh of course. I just wanted to see if we could pray together after this meeting. For you, the victims and their families.”

  “We can do that, yes.”

  “Oh good. I’m sure I’ll have a million other questions about your walk if that’s okay.”

  “You’re a full-time resident in T.J. Is that right?”

  “Yes, I’m a pastor. I work with the...” He cleared his throat. “Gospel Initiative. I have been serving at Iglesia de Cristo de Reino de Dios—that’s the Kingdom of God Church of Jesus Christ—for over a decade now. It’s an orphanage and community center. I have done other work with the juvenile detention center and with the sick in the municipality. But Reino de Dios is where I do most of my work. It’s up on the hill in Colonia Libertad. I just think of Haggai, ‘Go up to the mountains and bring down timber and build my house, so that I may be honored in it.’ That’s what I feel like. We bring down love every day. That’s the mission really.”

  “And what’s the purpose of your meeting with the consul agent today?”

  “Oh, I feel called back to the U.S. I’ve planted much but harvested little, and I would just like safe and secure passage across the border if they would permit it. Obviously it’s not easy under such difficult circumstances. I hope we can find the person or people that did this and bring them to justice.”

  “You mean the bombing.”

  “Yes. Awful. Awful thing. I think it will only cause us to build bigger walls between our borders when we really should be tearing them down.”

  “Okay, because some people you worked with may have been involved.”

  “Involved in what?”

  “The bombing.” David opened his mouth, but did not say a word.

  “I hate to question your police work, but I very much doubt anyone at the ministry could have been involved this bombing. We’re just a few student volunteers and some children. Lost children. They’re only four, five, six years old.”

  “Have you ever worked with a Maria Rosa?” The pastor started shaking his head.

  “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to, uh...describe her. I can’t recall ever working with someone by that name.”

  “She’s small. About five foot two. Darker complexion. Regular build. She said she lived right around the corner from your organization.”

  “Mmm...sorry I can’t remember.”

  “You don’t remember Maria Rosa? You never saw her or...”
<
br />   “I mean, I’ve worked with hundreds of volunteers in my time down here. My apologies if I can’t remember a specific one.”

  “She said you had relations with her. Does that sound familiar?” The pastor narrowed his gaze.

  “I’m sorry? Can you repeat that?”

  “She said that you two had a physical relationship at one point. It resulted in her pregnancy.”

  “That is a fantastic lie, sir. That is a complete fabrication.”

  “So you didn’t have a physical relationship with her.”

  “No.”

  “And you didn’t have a physical relationship with any volunteers.”

  “No. Other than my wife, no.” The pastor slid his hands under the table.

  “And you don’t remember working with Maria Rosa.”

  “No I do not. May I ask where you met this woman? That is a scurrilous rumor.”

  “Let’s move on to someone else. Do you remember hosting two Americans at your church? Two Caucasian brothers between the ages of eighteen and twenty? They went by M.J. and El.” The pastor shook his head again.

  “I can’t remember working with them either.”

  “You don’t remember working with them.”

  “Again, we have dozens, hundreds of volunteers come down from the States every year. I don’t think I could pick them out any more than I could our volunteers from the neighborhood.”

  “You didn’t host these two brothers for almost a year.”

  “No. Sorry if I’m curt. I feel like I’m on trial for something.”

  “I’m just trying to gather more information on the bombing. Someone who survived the blast gave us some information on who might be responsible.” The pastor cleared his throat again and sat up in his chair.

  “Let me unequivocally state that no one at this ministry or anyone I’ve associated with has had anything to do with this heinous act. I only work with good people. That’s why I want to answer your questions. I know you’re a good person. You’re a man of God, and I want to help you. But there is no way anyone involved with this ministry had anything to do with this.” His voice resonated off of the marble walls of the waiting area. The parents stared at the two men from across the room.