"Were you?" Marlene asked.
The man she had known as Eugenio Santacristina shrugged. "One man's terrorist is another man's patriot. I will say that unlike the Franco government, which made war on women and children and university professors who dared to write papers, our targets in those days were the army, government officials, and the national police, which unlike the FBI in this country was a paramilitary organization that carried out attacks on civilians."
Katarain pointed to the scar at his hairline. "I received this because I was clinging to my father's leg, begging them not to take him. But certainly the violence went both ways. It was an undeclared war-the ETA against Spain and its fascist dictator."
The war heated up when a dozen Basque independentistas were executed by a government-sponsored death squad. In retaliation, the ETA had assassinated Admiral Luis Carrero Blanco, who was Franco's heir apparent and the man behind the secret war against the Basques.
"Ironically, when Franco died a short time later, he had no one to replace him as dictator," Katarain said. "So he handed back the government to the monarchy, which in turn created a democracy in Spain. It was so ironic. There we were, trying to win our freedom from what we considered a foreign power, much as you Americans did from the British, and we handed freedom to the Spanish people, who despised us."
The advent of democracy did nothing for the Basque cause. By the 1980s, the war was becoming more vicious, especially with the creation of Grupos Antiterroristas de Liberacion, or "Antiterrorist Liberation Groups, also called GAL." The group was sponsored and protected by the Spanish government as a supposedly counterterrorist organization.
"They were capitalizing on concerns in the United States and western Europe with the growth of terrorism," Katarain said. "By lumping us in with Islamic extremists, and even the IRA, they were actually encouraged to carry out a program of assassinations, kidnappings, torture, and murder against suspected ETA members. Many of their victims did not belong to the organization, but it was enough just to be suspected."
Katarain sighed and traced a heart on the pane next to Luis. "By this time, I was in my thirties and tired of all the bloodshed. I wanted a life and the cause of Basque freedom seemed as remote as ever. But then the GAL arrested my younger brother and his pregnant wife, who were betrayed by a coward. He told the death squads that they could be used to get to me."
Bowing his head, Katarain continued. "I was supposed to get the message that if I gave myself to the GAL, they would be freed. I would have done it, but I was hiding in the mountains and did not hear about the offer until it was too late. When we found them in the same field where my father's body had been dumped, they were dead-tortured first and then nearly decapitated with piano wire."
Katarain buried his face in his hands and groaned as if reliving the discovery of the bodies of his brother and sister-in-law. "They called us terrorists," he said, "because we wanted to speak our own language and enjoy our culture and have our own country. Of course, when it is the government committing the crimes, it is not terrorism, it is 'national security.'"
Katarain found the traitor who had betrayed him and strapped him into a vest bomb filled with nails and dynamite. "I sent him to the local police station where the GAL was holding their meeting."
"Why would he agree to go?" Marlene asked.
"Because I had a gun pressed up against the forehead of his five-year-old son," Katarain replied bitterly. "I told him that if he did not go, I would shoot the boy and leave him in the same field where they left my brother and his wife."
"I don't believe it," Marlene said. "You would never harm a child."
"We will never know, Marlene," he replied. "You do not know the anger and the hatred that burned inside of me, but I did not have to find out if I was capable of such a thing. It was enough that the betrayer believed my threat and walked into the police station and detonated the bomb. I returned the boy to his mother and left again for the mountains."
It had not taken long for the Spanish national police to figure out who had put the traitor up to the bombing, and the price was increased for the capture of Jose Luis Arregi Katarain. But friends helped him escape in 1985 to the United States, where he made his way to Idaho to lose himself in the largest Basque community outside of their homeland.
"I became a shepherd, and as I walked through the beautiful mountains that reminded me so much of home, gradually my anger began to subside," Katarain said. "Then came the day when I saw Elena dancing a romeria and fell in love. And when Maria was born, I was sure that I was done with all violence. But now…now that she's been murdered by a man who used her like a whore and cast her aside, I burn with hatred and anger again. I could easily kill him."
Katarain's shoulders slumped. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?"
Marlene shook her head. "No, in fact I'll take one myself if you have a spare."
Shaking a cigarette out of the pack for Marlene, he lit it for her, then lit one for himself. "So now you have heard my story and understand why I am reluctant to press the authorities about Huttington and my daughter," he said. "But it's not because I'm a coward. If I thought that it would help find my Maria, I would do it. But all it would accomplish is my extradition to Spain and no justice for my angel."
Katarain stopped talking and inhaled deeply off the cigarette. He looked up at Marlene, ready to accept whatever accusation he thought he would find in her eyes. "I would not blame you if you walk away from this now and turn me in to the authorities. But I ask one thing and that is you wait until I have brought Maria home to her mother."
Marlene looked back at Katarain and thought about his comment regarding how thin the line was between a patriot and a terrorist. He may have killed men who had nothing to do with his father's death or that of his brother and sister-in-law. Perhaps some innocent father had not gone home to his children that evening. But she could not condemn him.
"As I said before, I'm in no position to judge you," she replied at last. "It's not for me to turn you in. In the meantime, we have a child to bring home to her mother and justice for a loving father and, I believe, a good man."
Katarain passed a sleeve across his eyes and held out his hand for her to shake. "When Elena died, I cursed God," he said. "And when Maria was taken from me, I doubted that God existed, unless as an angry deity punishing me for the sins of my past. But now I believe that God led me to you. When I leave here, I will return to church for the first time in a long while. And there I will light a candle and on my knees thank Him for you."
Marlene smiled and was about to hug him when something started to buzz in her coat. "Sorry, forgot to turn off the cell phone," she said.
"Go ahead," he nodded. "I'll finish my cigarette."
Marlene looked at the caller ID on her phone and smiled. "Why, hello, Clay Fulton, how's things?" Listening to his reply, she said, "Have you told Butch? No? Why, I'm flattered. What's that? I shouldn't be…it's too late to call New York? Well, he's probably asleep, but I'm sure he'll be delighted to hear from you in the morning. Nice work, Clay, you are the very best detective there ever was."
Flipping the phone closed, Marlene was lost in thought until Katarain spoke.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
Marlene shook her head. "Well, no, actually something's right," she said. "It has to do with Butch's case. That was Detective Fulton, who just met with a couple of very important witnesses." She walked over and, standing on her tiptoes, kissed Katarain on the cheek.
"I have to run," she said. "And I may not be back for a few days. But promise me you won't tell anybody about Huttington's Cadillac and especially that you won't try to go after Huttington. We're going to do this the right way. Agreed?"