Cleanup Read Free Page B

will probably be a legal-aid case?” I asked. “Maria has been working as a house cleaner.”
    His smile was polished. “Let’s not worry about that until we see what we’re up against, okay?”
    He led the way through the door and marched straight to the desk sergeant where he identified himself as Maria’s lawyer and me as his translator.
    A uniformed police officer was summoned to take us to an interview room. He knocked on the door, and Detective Bodie stepped out. Mr. Mason went through his introductions again. The whole time, Bodie looked disapprovingly at me.
    â€œMs. Suarez was at the scene,” he told Mr. Mason.
    â€œI understand she was the one who called nine-one-one,” Mr. Mason said. “Is there a problem? Is she a suspect?”
    â€œNot at this time, no.”
    â€œIs she being looked at as a possible suspect?” Mr. Mason asked.
    â€œNo,” Bodie admitted.
    â€œWell then, my translator and I would like to see Ms. Gonzales.”
    Bodie opened the door for us. Maria stood up when she saw me. She hugged me.
    She waited until the detective had left before she said in Spanish, “I’m scared. They think I killed Mr. Richard.”
    I let her hug me again. Then I stepped back so that I could look at her and reassure myself that I was right to believe her.
    Mr. Mason closed the door, introduced himself to Maria and explained why I was there. He asked his questions in English, speaking directly to Maria. Maria answered in Spanish. I translated.
    â€œTell me everything you can remember about that morning, Ms. Gonzales,” Mr. Mason said. “Where you were, what you did, who you spoke to. Anything you can remember.”
    Maria looked down at the table while she spoke.
    â€œI got up and went to the shower,” she said hesitantly.
    â€œNo, I mean tell me everything from the time you arrived at Mr. Withers’s house that morning,” Mr. Mason said.
    Maria’s cheeks turned pink.
    â€œI—I did not arrive in the morning.” She refused to look at me but peeked at Mr. Mason. “I was there since the night before.”
    Mr. Mason raised an eyebrow when I translated her answer. So Mike was right, I thought. Maria had been having an affair with Mr. Withers.
    â€œI see,” Mr. Mason said. “Am I to gather that you and Mr. Withers were…involved?”
    Maria’s cheeks turned from pink to crimson.
    â€œHe was a good man,” she said. “When he found out how much the agency was paying me, he said I should quit. He said he would pay me directly. He said he would pay me what I deserved.” She turned to me and lowered her voice. “Mike paid me less than he paid you, because of my status.”
    I didn’t translate the last part. Mr. Mason didn’t seem to notice.
    â€œMs. Gonzales,” he said, his eyes on Maria again, “about Mr. Withers…”
    â€œWe were going to get married,” she said.
    Married? I was stunned. When had that happened?
    All that Mr. Mason said was, “I see.” If he was surprised, he gave no sign of it. “Now, about the morning in question…”
    Maria said that she had woken up at six o’clock, when Mr. Withers got out of bed. He was an early riser. But he urged her to go back to sleep. He also told her that she should stop worrying about cleaning the house.
    â€œHe said you could do it, Connie,” she said. “He said he would pay you extra, maybe hire you himself full time to work for him, never mind Mike. I told him you weren’t a maid, Connie. Not really. He said he would help you. He said he could tell you are very smart. He knows many people.”
    Mr. Mason made notes with a fountain pen.
    â€œI went back to sleep,” Maria continued. “I didn’t wake up until nearly two hours later when he came back into the bedroom. He was upset. I asked him what the matter was, but he said it was nothing for me to