Laura lifted Antía. She smiled at the thought her little one would soon be too big and heavy to carry.
Careful to keep Antía’s feet from hitting the doorframe, she made her way around the furniture toward the bedroom the two of them had shared for six years. She paused in the hall and reflected. The sleeping child started to slip from her grasp; with a little upward thrust she secured the girl in her arms. Antía was already almost too heavy for her. She turned toward the hall and spoke to her older daughter. “I think it’ll be better for her to be in her own bed.”
Xulia made no comment. She entered quickly and turned down the Minnie Mouse blanket. She kissed her mother and went to her own bed, knowing she wouldn’t sleep. She’d remain awake until her father returned, and she thought that would be a good thing. She knew the background story of ports and storms, and at the age of seventeen she was of the opinion that going home makes sense only if someone is waiting for you.
The hot-pink neon of the roadhouse flickered across the faces of the two men in the car. Manuel turned to check on Café. The dog gave him a sidelong look from the customary place on the backseat.
“Looks like Lucas took our advice to stay home and not visit the hookers.”
Nogueira was surprised. “He didn’t phone?”
Manuel checked his call log. “No, he didn’t.”
It was still relatively early, and only a couple of cars were parked there. The bouncer’s barstool was visible on the porch, but the Mammoth was nowhere in sight.
“Ophelia and I worked up a list of all the people we remember seeing at the scene of the accident. I’ve started calling them, but most of them are on the night shift, like Ophelia. If she’s not too busy, she’ll do the rest to see if anyone contacted As Grileiras about the accident before the hospital did.”
The towering figure of the Mammoth came around the side of the building. He was zipping his fly, a gesture that explained his temporary absence. The bouncer surveyed the parking lot and spotted their vehicle; he paused for a moment in the falling rain to study the two men inside. Before the cowboy decided whether to investigate, Nogueira and Manuel got out. The Mammoth went back to his post.
Perhaps because he was royally bored with the almost-deserted parking lot, the Mammoth was more than willing to fill them in.
“Sure I remember him. My job is to keep an eye on the cars out there, so I’m always here. Our little Nieves won’t let me go inside even to take a pee. Don Santiago’s a regular and he’s very generous. When the lot is full he generally asks me to keep an eye on his car to make sure that no drunk sideswipes it.”
“So you remember them.”
“Sure. It was a Saturday. That’s when I really have to be on the lookout. You know what they say, ‘Saturday’s the day for a roll in the hay.’ The lot was full. It’s not like that on Sundays; Sundays are for the family.” He grinned, and his obviously false teeth flashed under the neon lights. “Two cars showed up and stopped at the far end of the lot, close to the road, but they didn’t pull into the parking spots. That almost never happens; usually the new arrivals park, if only to avoid blocking the exit. I was going to go check on them, because sometimes we get drug pushers trying to sell their stuff here, and I have to chase them off. Our little Nieves doesn’t want the place to get a bad reputation.”
Manuel smiled.
The irony was lost on the Mammoth. “I knew it was okay when I saw don Santiago. Some guy got out of the other car; I’ve seen them together sometimes. They didn’t talk for long, but they were shouting. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, because the music from inside is pretty loud. But I could see don Santiago was really pissed off. He got into his car, slammed the door, and drove away, leaving the other guy just standing there.”
“That was all?”
“Well, the guy was looking out at the road. Then another vehicle pulled up. I noticed it because it didn’t turn in from the road. It came from the pine grove over there.” He waved toward a clump of trees beyond the parking lot. “Sometimes sweethearts park in there, you see.” He gave them a conspiratorial wink. “It was a pickup truck. Came from the left along the dirt track and stopped next to the guy. A woman got out, and they talked for a while.”
Nogueira turned to scout the far end of the parking lot. “It’s pretty far away. Are you sure it was a woman?”
“Not tall, hair down to here,” he said, placing the fingers of his right hand across his throat. “And she was alone. She left the door open, so the interior light was on, and I could see there was nobody else with her. They talked for a bit, said goodbye with a hug, then he got into his vehicle and drove away; she did the same.”
“They hugged one another?”
“Yeah, sort of to say goodbye, a couple of seconds. Well, that time of night I wasn’t paying very close attention. A client came out to say something, and when I looked back, I saw the two had gotten back in their vehicles and were leaving.”
“Can you remember what time of night this was?”
“About one in the morning.”
“And the vehicle. Can you describe it?”
“Hey, man, I couldn’t see the license number or anything, but it was a white pickup truck. There was some kind of design on the side, kind of like a flower basket. Yeah, that’s it, a basket of flowers.” He smiled, pleased at his recall. “Like I told you, I keep an eye on everything here.” He grinned. “That’s my job.”
“A pickup with the design of a flower basket on the side,” Manuel said when they returned to the car. “That’s the pickup Catarina’s assistant drove. And the bouncer practically gave us a description of her.”
“We already know why they were arguing: álvaro told Santiago he wasn’t going to pay any blackmail money. That must have really riled him.”
“Yes, but he left. And álvaro was still alive then.”
“Then Catarina turns up. What was she doing here?”
“No idea. But Catarina always seems determined to protect Santiago,” Manuel said, remembering the conversation in the clinic as well as her exasperation at taking care of her good-for-nothing husband. “Maybe she thought he was in some sort of trouble and followed him here.”
Nogueira pressed his lips together and grunted. “Hmm.”
“What is it?” asked Manuel.
Nogueira had just started the engine when his phone buzzed. It was Ophelia. He put it on the speaker so Manuel could hear her.
“Well, just as we suspected. Someone did report the accident to the Mu?iz de Dávila family.”
“Who called?”
“One of the traffic cops. Pereira, that’s his name. Says he saw no reason not to. He spoke to Santiago at about two in the morning, give or take.”
“At two? So right after it happened.”
“Correct. He said álvaro had died in a traffic accident and everything suggested he’d run off the road. He did mention the dent and paint scrapes, and he said the police hadn’t yet discounted the possibility that a white vehicle might have been involved. Sounds like he got a bit ahead of himself, trying to be helpful. But that’s not all.” She made a dramatic pause.
“Ofeli?a! Que non temos toda a noite!” Nogueira exclaimed. He tried to hurry her along.
“Voy, home! Two days later Santiago called to thank him. Pereira didn’t mention it, but I assume he got a cash tip. And Santiago asked for a favor. He said the nephew of an old lady who’d been employed at the estate had disappeared; the old woman was very worried and had reported the boy missing. Santiago said he’d appreciate it if they could find the boy or his car. He even gave Pereira the license number.”
“It had to be To?ino’s license number,” Nogueira said.
“And did he? Did he contact Santiago later?”
“Yes, he did. Yesterday afternoon at about five he called to say they’d found the boy’s body. Said it looked like a suicide.”
Manuel clutched his head with both hands. “So he didn’t kill him. He didn’t have a clue, didn’t know To?ino was dead. When he found out, he was so devastated he tried to kill himself.”