The Untold Story of Lizette Alvarez, New York Times Journalist

Lizette Alvarez, of the New York Times

The untold story of Lizette Alvarez begins in the Florida Keys (doesn't every good story begin there?)

One day in 1997 Manny Honduras, the local kingpin of illicit bay rum operations, was smoking a leisurely Cohiba in the backyard of his luxurious Key West hacienda when the phone rang. Angling out of his chair with some difficulty (for Manny was fond of cazuela de platano and boniatillo, both very fattening,) he waddled inside to answer it. His wife was in Chilicothe, Ohio, for an Arbor Day workshop, and the maid had gone to visit a healthy relative who had money. He was alone in the house.

"Yes?" he barked impatiently into the phone receiver. He was in a bad mood; he did not like having to shift for himself in the big house. 

When he heard the voice on the other end of the line, his face grew pale. Beads of sweat trickled down his furrowed brow and flabby cheeks. He let his Cohiba go out. 

"Yes, of course. Right away!" he whispered meekly and hung up.

Packing quickly, he chartered a plane to take him to Bismarck, North Dakota, and there we must leave him for the moment.

At the same time, up in Miami, a young Latina reporter was tracking down an anonymous tip about a batch of adulterated bay rum that had caused an outbreak of espinillas among professional jai alai players. Her editor had given her carte blanche to follow the story wherever it took her. Going the limit, the vibrantly attractive reporter took a taxi to Etzel Itzik to consult with Mama Bravo, a voodoo priestess known to have dealings with the corrupt underbelly of the city. And there we must leave them for a few brief paragraphs.

For at the very same instant, halfway across the world in war-torn Zagreb, Croatia, the sinister influence of Vladimir Putin was put to use in the murder case of Maslov Maslovsky, recently poisoned with a dose of Deadly Dapperling. Before he had sunk into a lethal coma, Maslovsky had scribbled on the sidewalk in front of his apartment: "Kako sada, smeda krava?"  Interpol was very interested in this cryptic message about brown cows, until they received word from their Moscow operative that it would be best to let sleeping brown cows lie. And there we really have to interrupt our narrative for just a teensy weensy bit . . . 

Because Lizette Alvarez, a graduate of Northwestern University, at this exact same moment decided to cut out all keratin from her diet. Which led, inevitably, to the Helsinki Accords. 

And now you know . . . the rest of the untold story. 

Paul Harvey, who else?


******************************************************************

Ms. Alvarez replied to her new profile by email, thus:

Ha. Love this. You are so awesome. It’s as if you’ve know me my whole life. Keep writing!

Lizette Alvarez

The New York Times

973-508-5595