Chronicles Revealed

Chapter 15: Perspectives

The killing of Mario Parilla was not an extra-judicial execution by self-styled anarchistic vigilantes who think they could clean-up society of drug pushers and addicts through the barrel of a gun. Neither was it a part of a mafia-like plot to eliminate the competition. In reality, It had the dual purpose of completely removing a potential witness who can testify against the killers of our son as well as to send us the ruthless message that pursuing our case against them would be a fatal mistake.

We will not retreat to a corner and just lick our paws. We will not allow justice to languish in the abyss of futility. Before Mario's confession, we had nothing to cling on at all. There were no witnesses. Nobody saw anything. Hope was but a ghastly ritual of self-flagellation and geriatric impotence. The world was soundly asleep because of the cold night the rain brought in and there was no way anyone could have seen or heard anything out of the ordinary that night. Even nature conspired against us.

The silver lining gleamed from the climbing moon and there appeared Mario Parilla. Everything changed for us. Hope breathed more life to our weakening spirits. In remembrance we will see to it that justice for our son will also be justice for Mario. He had become a hero who gave us renewed and real hope to bring to justice the killers of our son.

In the afternoon of the same day that Mario was found dead, Rowell came to the house bringing with him the sketch of Roque Codina for us to see if it was okay. Rowell has heard of what happened to Mario and asked about it. There was a trace of distress in his face. I told him the group will meet about it in a few days.

You have not been exposed to Mario 'Well, so you should be okay, I said in an effort to appease him.

Rowell made a very good drawing and I immediately recognized the Roque Codina I once knew and had a problem with fifteen years ago.

I know this guy, I exclaimed as I looked at the drawing of Rowell of Roque Codina. He is trouble.

When they talked about him his name did not ring any bell to me. It was just a name I had not heard of before and the only interest I had of him was to know who hired him to kill my son. I could not even relate his name to my son. When I saw the drawing Rowell made of Roque Codina it all came back to me in a flash. I remembered him perfectly. Codina used to hang-out in our Sing-a-long joint in a southern city, way back fifteen years ago. He loomed large and menacing and expecting everyone to step aside when he passed by. He would come in with his group and scare the people inside. He was, indeed, a big guy, a big bully, meaner than a rabid dog.

Everyone called him "bossing". No one talked or asked about his real name. I disliked this person right from the start. My son managed the joint and he had to deal with bossing now and then that sometimes included giving bossing free food and drinks when he was drunk to maintain the peace, as my son described the matter.

It's business strategy, Pops, he explained to me. Make customers not enemies! No gunfight at the ok corral necessary here. I can handle him. Don't worry. His size does not matter to me. As the saying goes, the bigger they are the harder they fall!

Put it on your representation expense, I told my son. Don't make it a personal expense.

Bad people, by nature, can be so ungrateful. One day, my son told me that bossing "borrowed" the stereo component of the bar for his son's birthday party. A month passed and the unit was not yet returned. I reminded bossing about it but he simply ignored me, sneered at me.

Wait old man, he told me derisively. I am not stealing it. You're so impatient. It's not good for your health. Maybe, you can just give it to me as a gift for keeping the bad guys away.