“Because I’m not.” He grimaced and tossed the cigarette butt into a puddle where it died with a hiss. “Why would that useless scumbag take the trouble to haul a dead body to the grave? There was a risk somebody might see him. Assuming they screwed up the dose, why didn’t he just leave the body in the church and be done with it?”
“I agree. It doesn’t make sense,” Manuel said. “Though I could see him taking the key. I heard that valuable objects disappeared from the church at least once before.”
“A burglary?” Nogueira found that hard to believe. “I hadn’t heard about that.”
“More like shoplifting. Gri?án told me that a couple of silver candelabra disappeared. Antique ones, very valuable, but there was no sign of a break-in.”
Nogueira frowned. “I never heard about any such incident.” He was searching his memory. “Might be a good idea if you dropped by the church on the estate to check whether anything else is missing.”
“Sure, but why did To?ino have the key on him three years later anyhow?” asked Lucas. “That makes no sense. You think someone planted it on the body to throw suspicion on him?”
“Suspicion of what?” Nogueira shrugged. “For a closed case that was never investigated? Why? No one was suspected of anything, no charges were made, and now To?ino is dead. álvaro is dead, too, so who would stand to benefit? There has to be a reason To?ino had the key on him when he died.” He extracted another cigarette from the pack, studied it for a couple of seconds as if maybe the answer would be written there, gestured as if dismissing an idea, and then lit it. He looked very tired.
Lucas glanced at Manuel before he spoke. “We had a lot of revelations today at As Grileiras.”
Manuel nodded.
Lucas summarized events for the policeman: Santiago’s admission to the hospital, their conversation with Herminia, and what Elisa and the Raven had seen from the house on the night of Fran’s death. The lieutenant’s face was expressionless throughout the telling, but when Lucas had finished, he looked at Manuel.
“And now Elisa and the boy are with you?”
Manuel nodded again.
“I’ve been with the police for a long time, Manuel, long enough to know somebody might see something that isn’t really there. If you doubt it, look at how Elisa’s interpretation changed. First she assumed álvaro persuaded Fran to go into the church to console him; now she’s thinking it was a murder plot.”
Lucas backed him up. “That’s just what I told you, Manuel. We have to distinguish between facts and assumptions.”
“It is however true,” Nogueira admitted, “that right now álvaro looks like a suspect. But the prior’s actions are also suspicious. We know he’s enough of a dolt to have gotten mixed up in something like this or even worse. I found it strange that he didn’t seem particularly concerned about his nephew’s disappearance, as if he either expected the boy not to come back or just didn’t care. Maybe it had nothing to do with the boy’s murder. But it’s obvious to me To?ino wasn’t going to be the reason for him to come clean about something he’d taken such pains to conceal. Let’s not forget that Ortu?o’s account implicates the man in at least two felonies: covering up a homicide and failing to investigate sexual abuse of a minor. If the press gets hold of that, there’ll be a huge scandal.”
Lucas stated the obvious conclusion. “So he’s probably holding something back.”
“More than likely,” Nogueira said. “At least for now. But depending on what the investigation turns up, we ourselves might have to provide that information.”
“We?” Manuel asked, raising his chin, suddenly indignant. “Or you?”
“Manuel, I’m still a policeman, even if I’m officially retired. I warned you how investigations are. They can turn up things that are anything but pleasant.”
“But that was when you said someone had killed my husband, not in reference to . . . all this!”
“Yes, but maybe it wasn’t so complicated after all. I know how policemen think. It could have been a random sequence of events. To?ino finds the document, starts blackmailing álvaro; álvaro goes to the seminary because he knows the information had to have come from there; he locates To?ino—maybe he follows the prior—they fight, To?ino is killed, maybe by accident, and maybe he strings him up to make it look like a suicide.”
“Then who killed álvaro?”
“Maybe To?ino stabbed him during the fight and álvaro drove away, then eventually lost consciousness and died.”
“There’s a better case against the prior than against álvaro,” Lucas put in. “He goes looking for his nephew at the boy’s home; maybe he waits for him at the intersection, follows him, kills him, and hangs him. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to pass off a crime as a suicide. Then he finds álvaro, they argue, he stabs him with something long and thin, and finishes him off by running his car off the road.”
“I can’t see it.” Manuel shook his head. “Neither álvaro nor the prior wanted the secret to come out, so why would he complicate things by murdering álvaro? With To?ino dead, everything went back to square one.”
“And the key?” asked Lucas. “Is there any explanation for that?”
“No, I already told you,” Nogueira said. “It makes no sense to draw attention to a case that was filed away as an accidental overdose or a suicide and forgotten a long time ago.”
“I’m not so sure,” Lucas countered. “Elisa never forgot it.”
“Close family members never do. It’s easier to believe a loved one was murdered than to accept a suicide. But no one thinks so.”
“I don’t understand any of this.” Manuel turned to look out into the dark night. His face showed his exhaustion and desperation.
“Listen to me, you two,” Nogueira said. “Manuel!” His insistent tone brought Manuel’s eyes back to him. “Forget all this speculation until we have the autopsy report. Ophelia will call me as soon as it’s done. Then we base a hypothesis on facts. Empty speculation does us no good.”
Manuel gave him a sullen look. “You’ll call me as soon as you know something?”
“I give you my word. Now go up to your room.” He glanced back toward the inn. “And try to get some rest. Tomorrow, no matter what the autopsy reveals, we have a long day ahead of us, together. Take my advice, Manuel, and try to get some rest.”
Manuel nodded and gave in. He took a couple of steps toward the inn, hesitated, and turned back. “I have to go get Café.”
“Leave him at my place tonight.”
Manuel and Lucas exchanged a conspiratorial glance.
“Careful, Nogueira!” Lucas teased the policeman. “You’ll wind up liking the mutt.”
“Like hell I will!” the lieutenant exclaimed. He looked around at the parked cars and lowered his voice. “But it’s really late, and I’ll bet you the damn thing’s asleep with my daughter.”
With a smile Manuel walked away without listening to Nogueira’s excuses. He lifted a hand in farewell on his way to the inn.
The others watched every step. As if by unspoken mutual accord they said nothing until the door had closed behind him.
Nogueira turned to Lucas. “What can you tell me about Santiago and this suicide attempt?”