Ruth had kept the photo of Patricia, she’d written that love generates eternal debts. Even to those you no longer love. Through this misplaced sense of responsibility Ruth had gone to Dr. Omar to intercede for her ex-husband. Yes, she was sure. What had that perverse old guy said to her? Nothing very serious, because Ruth had changed very little after that visit, about which she’d told no one. Héctor had spoken to Leire about the last time he saw his ex-wife, when she accompanied him to the airport to pick up his missing suitcase. She seemed fine, same as always … Then she disappeared.
I can’t do it anymore, Leire said to herself. She was sure that if Ruth had some way of seeing what was happening in the world, she wouldn’t feel betrayed by this pregnant agent. On the contrary, she’d understand perfectly.
Halfway through the afternoon she left the station, bag now empty, seized by a mixture of feelings that went from relief to guilt, passing through a range of different emotions. Inspector Salgado was busy questioning a whole group of witnesses of a case and she couldn’t see him. It didn’t really matter-what she had to tell him could wait.
Martina Andreu had understood completely and taken charge of everything. “It’s better this way,” she’d added. “You don’t know the trouble stirred up because of the file.” And she must have looked bad, because her words were the same as Señora Martorell. “Relax, Leire.” And yes, for once she planned to listen: she just wanted to return to her apartment, lie on the sofa and do nothing for what was left of her pregnancy. She tried to drive the image of Ruth from her mind without managing it completely, but determined to do it.
Because of that, when she met Guillermo at the door of the building where she lived she was tempted to tell him not to come up, that she didn’t feel well. But she didn’t: the boy seemed so nervous and she was so tired that she had no choice but to invite him in.
38
“Sorry for turning up like this,” he said, already inside her house. “I called, but you didn’t answer.”
He took out his cell phone to show her and left it on the table.
“It’s no problem, don’t worry.” She let herself collapse on the sofa. The room was spinning.
“Are you feeling all right? You’re very pale.”
“A little bit queasy, that’s all. It’ll pass when I’ve rested for a while. If you’d like something to drink, you can grab it yourself from the fridge.”
Guillermo declined the invitation, but offered to bring her something if she wanted.
“Yes, can you bring me a glass of water, please?”
He obeyed and returned immediately. He held out the glass as he sat down beside her.
“You said I could talk to you about Mama.”
Yes, she had said so, thought Leire, although just then it was the last thing she felt like doing. She took a sip of water and prepared to listen. He was sitting at her side. He was worried, no doubt about that. Even nauseated, she could see.
“I suppose I should tell Papa,” he said, “but he’s been very busy for the last few days and I thought I could talk to you first.”
“Of course.” The water felt good. “Tell me, has something happened?”
He nodded.
“Do you know Carmen? The landlady of the building where we live?”
Leire knew of her and was aware that she maintained a close relationship with Héctor and his family, one that went beyond what usually existed between a landlady and her tenants.
“Carmen has a son,” he continued. “His name is Charly, but he doesn’t live with her. They’ve not seen each other for years.”
She remembered hearing something about this Charly from Inspector Salgado, and of course it wasn’t exactly praise.
“Well, Charly has come home to his mother.”
“I’d say he’s not a good influence for you …” ventured Leire. “Do you know him well?”
“Actually, I don’t remember him from before he left, but …”
“But what?” Curiosity was overcoming her nausea.
It took him a while to speak, as if he were betraying a confidence.
“But I know Mama let him sleep at home, in the loft a few times.”
Leire sat up.
“What?”
“Papa wouldn’t have liked it at all and Mama asked me not to tell him. According to her, Charly wasn’t so bad and anyway, she said she was doing it for Carmen. A mothers’ thing. It was only three or four nights after we moved there-he never stayed long. I’d forgotten, but now, seeing him again, I thought it might be important, mightn’t it?”
“Maybe. You did the right thing in telling me.”
“Do you think he could have done something to her? I wasn’t at home that whole week. I went to Calafell, to a friend’s house …”
He looked so upset that Leire hastened to console him.
“I don’t know, Guillermo, but I don’t think so.” She didn’t know why, but she doubted such a complex case could suddenly be solved by the reappearance of a small-time crook. “They would have found his fingerprints-he must have a record. Also, your mother didn’t usually make mistakes, did she? Maybe Charly isn’t such a bad guy.”
A grateful smile appeared on Guillermo’s face.
“In any case, you have to tell your father.” Remembering she had things to tell Inspector Salgado, she added, “I have things to tell him too.”
“Really?”
Leire left the glass on the table. She didn’t want to discuss it with this boy. And as she couldn’t find Ruth, she told herself the least she could do for her was give her son something for dinner.
Not only did Guillermo accept her invitation, he offered to make dinner, which to Leire’s surprise turned out rather good. She forced herself to be cheerful and try to eat the pasta the boy had boiled while making a tomato sauce seasoned with black pepper and a little mince he found in the fridge. She couldn’t eat much; the nausea kept coming in waves.
He was clearing the plates from the table when a sudden, violent, stabbing pain left her breathless, and pale as new linen. It was only a few seconds and then the feeling disappeared, but a cold sweat and the constant vertigo remained.
“Are you all right?”
Leire was about to answer when the pain returned. No, no, you can’t be born yet, she thought.
“I think …” It hurt so much she almost couldn’t speak. “I think we need to call the doctor.”
HECTOR
39
The arrest of Manel Caballero occurred at half past nine in the morning on Thursday, January 20. An offended and frightened Manel, protesting vehemently, was approached at his place of work by Roger Fort and another agent, in front of his astonished colleagues: he had to accompany them to the station for questioning. They handcuffed him without the least compassion. Simultaneously, Héctor Salgado was doing the same with Sílvia Alemany, who, to the inspector’s surprise, left her office with her head held high and without saying a single word.
The two were put in separate police cars and transferred to the station. They saw each other then, at the door, though they didn’t have a chance to talk. He, handcuffed and almost pushed toward the building’s interior; she walking with dignity with the inspector at her side. Two very different interrogation rooms awaited them.
Frightened is nothing, thought Héctor as soon as he entered one of them, ready to get everything he could out of that slippery young man. Since the previous afternoon, when he got back from the house in Garrigàs, he had been setting the pieces of this puzzle in order: the dogs, the bicycles, the spade, the shift in attitude of the participants, Amanda’s shock the night before. And although he didn’t know for certain how things had happened, he did have at least a vague idea of what could have happened. An idea he didn’t like at all.