Down Heartbreak Boulevard

By Efren O'Brien

DOWN HEARTBREAK BOULEVARD is a period story from the early 1950's set in Albuquerque, Santa Fe, and Los Alamos New Mexico. The story is about Quinn Chase, who used to be a detective with the Albuquerque Police Department but now in 1951...has his own Private Investigations Office in Albuquerque. DOWN HEARTBREAK BOULEVARD is a sequel to my previously published story...SEARCHING FOR EDGAR'S FIVE DANCERS.

In this current story Quinn Chase becomes involved early on with an old acquaintance of his named Jimmy Shea. Shea is a former gangster, and now displays wealth, but is involved in "suspicious" business activities. In the 20's and early '30's', Shea was involved in "Bootlegging" and Quinn investigated Jimmy. Now, Shea hires Quinn in the hopes that Quinn will contact Shea's previous love interest and retrieve a family heirloom. Shea actually has other motives though for both Quinn and Greta Lohr, his former fiance.

While Quinn deals now with Jimmy Shea...there is spy activity at Los Alamos. Quinn is recruited by the FBI to assist with the investigations into America's stolen atomic secrets there. Quinn leaves Albuquerque and moves to Santa Fe to assist the FBI.

While in Santa Fe, Quinn meets and becomes romantically involved with a strange lady who shows up for a Peace Conference.
The young lady is beautiful, highly intelligent and shows an interest in Quinn. Little does Quinn know, that the lady is a KGB Soviet Agent sent there on an assassination mission. Quinn must reconcile his feelings for his new love interest and his duty to protect a former Soviet scientist who defected.
Quinn is injured in his security mission but recovers and just wants to return to his PI work in Albuquerque. A final emotional scene with Jimmy Shea however throws a twist into the story and changes everything.

This is a noir crime mystery where all main characters are profoundly changed as they take their own "ride" down the imaginary Heartbreak Boulevard!

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 3, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098349240

Book preview

CHAPTER I

It was a Thursday morning in March, 1951. Hortensia Paez walked into the tiny but ornate Church in downtown Santa Fe, entered a pew, and knelt to pray. Mass began promptly at 9:40 every morning. She gazed up at the tiny but magnificent altar composed of red marble agate and outlined in cedar wood and gold leaf with the ornate crucifix above. She had been attending this small church for years. The Chapel of St. Anastasia Guadalupe Garcia was small, but absolutely stunning in appearance. Stained-glass windows displayed various biblical scenes and scenes of the Matron Saint adorned both flanks of the small chapel. Father Rodrigo Gonzalez had been Priest at the small chapel since before the war. Father Gonzalez was a quiet man but devoted to his faith. Confessions were held on Tuesdays and Thursdays before mass. On this morning, Hortensia saw the small light come on indicating the Confessional was free…she walked up and entered, and knelt down inside to confess her sins. After her confession, she returned to her place in church.

Mass began and ended timely. She remained late today to speak with some of the other parishioners gathering in the front part of the small church. One other lady she knew spoke to her with a smile: Hortensia, there’s a retreat being held next month for adults. You should go—you’ll learn something and have fun too. We’re all going. It’s going to be held in the mountains near Taos.

Hortensia smiled and said she would consider it, but inside she knew she would never go.

Hortensia Paez, who was sixty-two years old, had lived in Santa Fe for most of her life. Her family had first settled in the area in the 1870s. She had followed in the footsteps of her mother and became a domestic housekeeper at a young age. First of all, she was good at the job. And there were large hotels and wealthy people in Santa Fe, so there was always ample work for her. She left Santa Fe when she was a young girl to marry; but returned to Santa Fe six years later after her husband died from his heart condition, which was not helped at all from the grueling work he had to do at a rubber factory. Hortensia was a devout Catholic, who attended mass daily and walked about a mile each day from her home to church and back. Aside from her church, Hortensia spent much of her time visiting her two daughters and three grandchildren, all of whom lived in Santa Fe. One of her daughters lived along the route she took back and forth to church, so it was predictable that Hortensia would stop by daily after mass to have breakfast and see her grandchildren. But on March 8, 1951, she failed to stop by after church had ended. In fact, she never even made it home that day.

Her body was found in a vacant lot along the same route. She was propped up in a sitting position with her back leaning up against a tree. She had ligature marks and other red marks on her neck indicating that she had been strangled. Her purse and all personal effects were intact and with her as well as what little money she had. There was no evidence that aside from being choked, Hortensia was physically violated in any other way. This was definitely not a rape or robbery. It was murder, and Hortensia was the target. There was no blood, no murder weapon found, no note, and really no other clues at the scene except one. Hortensia had a small red cloth ribbon tied into a bow around her left ankle. It was obviously unusual and out of place with respect to the plain earth-tone-colored clothes she wore.

Photos were taken of the crime scene. Lt. Frank Huff, the detective of some notoriety with the Santa Fe PD, was called to the scene. One of Hortensia’s daughters, Lucia, after being informed of her mother’s death, was asked to come to the coroner’s office to identify the body. She completely broke down and collapsed when she first got there. Finally, she recovered and stood up again…staring at the body of her mother, her mother’s life stolen from her.

She immediately commented on the red bow. She never wore anything like that before, Lucia said. That isn’t hers. She doesn’t even have the material for a bow like this!

Lt. Huff, despite his ineptitude at times was still the Department’s lead detective, and despite his occasional blunders was probably the most capable. He was placed on this case. According to Hortensia’s daughter, there was no motive for the killing, no clues at all at the scene except for the ribbon, and no suspects. All the other family members and neighbors, people who knew Hortensia at church, would have to be interviewed and perhaps investigated. She seemed to be a very quiet person who only had friends from the church and family members who loved and supported her. Huff thought back to some of the heinous crimes that occurred during the big art scam in Santa Fe during the war years. This was nothing like those murders.

Without making light of the seriousness of this crime—this is a violent crime—but this almost seems personal, he said to another detective. As if the killer knew this woman. This woman was just a loving mother and grandmother who wanted to spend time in church and with her family. Who would want to hurt her? Huff asked.

Gonzalo Ibanez lived in the village of Los Cerrillos, approximately 25 miles South of Santa Fe. Just like Hortensia Paez, Gonzalo had grown up in this small town and his family had lived there since the mid-1800s. Cerrillos was a town known for its turquoise mining, and Gonzalo’s father had worked in one of the mines there when he was a little kid. Gonzalo was in his late forties now…he was married and a father himself. The only time Gonzalo had ever been away from New Mexico was for a brief four-year period in the 1930s when he moved to California to help support his mother after his father had died. Now at age forty-nine, Gonzalo ran his small fruit tree farm about half a mile from his house. For years now, Gonzalo and his son walked to their farm each morning and after a day’s work returned home at night. Gonzalo’s son Ismael had just turned 21, and had enlisted in the Army for a stint. He had left for Basic Training about a month ago. Gonzalo felt he could handle the farm without the aid of his son for a few years. The irrigation system had been improved…and if he needed help, he could always get some of his other farmer friends if he was willing to reciprocate or even pay them.

Life was good and everything seemed to be in order for Gonzalo in late March of 1951. And then one night, he didn’t return home from his farm. But Gonzalo‘s wife didn’t panic. Gonzalo had a small shack with a cot, kerosene lantern, and a coal-burning stove. During the harvest time each year, he and Ismael often stayed at the farm overnight due to the work demand. She expected him back the next day, though. He never returned.

The afternoon of the second day, she and a neighbor rode down to the farm to look for Gonzalo. It was late afternoon and she expected to see him either working or at the small house. When they arrived, Gonzalo was nowhere to be found. They checked the shack out. It didn’t look as if he had even entered. He was not there. They were about ready to drive into Santa Fe to the Sheriff’s Office when Gonzalo’s neighbor, Evan Smith, noticed something that looked strange amidst the pecan trees several rows back. He told Isabella, Gonzalo’s wife, to wait at the car while he checked on something. As he walked through two rows of fruit trees, the scene became more visible. Smith staggered back and nearly fell down.

Oh my God…! were the only words Smith could scream out as he looked upon this surreal horror scene. His neighbor’s body was flush up against the barren tree, and tied around his waist, Gonzalo’s head was suspended by another strand of rope tied around his forehead and the tree itself. He had ligature marks as well around his throat, indicating he had been strangled. Gonzalo‘s eyelids were stapled to his forehead as well, so his eyes were wide open but had been picked at by the ever-present crows and other birds at the farm. Blood leaked out and was seeping down Gonzalo’s face from the sockets that used to house his dark brown eyes. Around his left ankle was a red cloth ribbon tied into a simple bow, just like on Hortensia Paez.

CHAPTER II

It was March of 1951, and the gray morning sky, with its clouds over Albuquerque New Mexico seemed endless as it extended over the miles and miles of open plains surrounding the city. To Quinn Chase, he felt like he was part of a panoramic mural that surrounded and enveloped him. He normally didn’t pause to look and take in his surroundings. But today, he stopped before entering the tall building that housed his office for work. He had no particular reason to ponder life in general—but today he did. Maybe gazing at the atmosphere gave him perspective? He realized for a moment that maybe his personal issues were insignificant compared to the grander matters and scheme of things in the world. Quinn was always in awe of the New Mexican natural landscapes—and that beautiful sky. So for a brief interlude, he stood looking. Then, after a while, as if on que, Quinn proceeded through the revolving doors of the tall building and to the elevator that would bring him up to his office on the eighth floor.

In 1951, Quinn was for the most part satisfied with himself and his career. He was forty-nine years old now, and had lost some weight due to the advice of his doctor. He still had all of his teeth, still had most of his blond hair, and now had his own Private Investigation Firm. He was establishing himself in the Albuquerque community again and doing what he liked and did best—helping people with their problems and solving crimes. And he was good enough to make a living at it. Lieutenant Frank Huff, whom Quinn worked with before in the Stolen Art Investigation, had begged Quinn to join the Santa Fe Police Department after the war. But Quinn wanted his own office again and the freedom of doing things without being hampered by protocol. And at last he had achieved that goal.

He exited the elevator, turned, and read his name stenciled into the glass door before him. He pushed it open and entered.

Private Investigations, Quinn Chase…Professional Inquiry Agent. That has a nice ring to it! he said to himself. His secretary was reading something as he entered, and only looked up smiling at the last minute.

Quinn returned her smile and tapped the edge of her desk in a congenial manner before walking into the adjoining room, which was his office. He walked into the room and again paused before taking a seat behind his desk. I guess I’m doin’ alright, he said to himself. The office was upscale from the office he and Ethan Clark had shared in that old adobe building in Santa Fe a few years earlier. Quinn now had a sizeable window behind his desk and a view that looked out over downtown and Southeast Albuquerque. He had nice furniture and a new phone and intercom system linked up with his secretary. Yes, things were much better for an ex-cop who used to be a clerk in the dog pound in the congested first floor of the Albuquerque PD.

He walked up front to his secretary, Evelyn’s, desk. She was engrossed in her reading of something and only pulled her reading glasses off at the last minute as Quinn walked up to her. Evelyn was young, inquisitive, and headstrong for a secretary. Not terribly bad qualities for Quinn’s type of business. Quinn’s clients all liked her.

What’s got your attention this morning, Eve? (Quinn pronounced it Evee, with the long e.) It sure isn’t my morning coffee… he quipped.

Oh, Eve said. You’d better drop some food in the tank for those piranhas. It’s been three days now.

Quinn stared intently at the three goldfish swimming in the tank, as he reached for the diced fish food and stared at the fish in the tank. You guys have nothing to complain about, he said to the fish as he sprinkled their food in the tank. You get free room and board in a modern office with two humans to entertain you…what a deal! So what’s happenin’ today? Quinn innocently asked his secretary.

My cousin from New York wrote to me, she answered. She just got married a few months ago.

I feel for her, said Quinn. It’s better being single. You can eat what you want whenever you like, and come and go as you please without being interrogated, he said with a chuckle.

She married an ex-marine, Eve stated. Seems like a real nice guy, but he’s got some injuries from the war.

Well, if you write back, give her my congratulations and best wishes. In fact I’ll include some extra money in your next paycheck to send as a gift, Quinn said.

Thanks, that will make them so happy!

I’ve got to review the police reports on the Wexley case, said Quinn, as he poured some cream in his coffee. No calls for the next couple of hours, OK? he asked.

No problem, Eve answered.

One exception…if Lieutenant Frank Huff calls from Santa Fe, I’ll take it, he said as he took a sip. Coffee’s a little strong today, but it’s still better than I could do…he said to himself while smiling and entering his