“What made both of you so sure I’d agree?”
Nogueira dismissed the question with a shrug. “I’d have found it strange if you hadn’t. And suspicious as well.” He gave Manuel a side glance. “Leave your car here, we’ll use mine. They rent rooms here; it’s both a bar and an inn, so you can stay here for now. I’ll need information about the bank accounts and a report of the most recent movements of your . . . family member. And whether he had debts. His father, the old marquis, got mixed up with loan sharks and their associates. Those people seem to have been out of the picture for a couple of years, but you never know. Anyhow, it’ll be interesting to see who inherits, although I assume it’s too early to know yet. Maybe that administrator who was with you the other day can tell you something if you play your cards right. After all, you were álvaro’s . . . family member. You need to go to the hospital and the police headquarters as soon as possible to recover his personal property. Ophelia has to examine his clothing again. And we’ll check his cell phone—make sure it’s included with his effects. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to ask the victim’s telephone company for a list of his calls. Just pretend to be him and go back as far as possible. If they make difficulties, you can threaten not to pay the latest bill.”
Manuel stopped him. “That won’t be necessary. I have internet access to all our bills. I can review the times and details of all the calls.”
Nogueira looked at him appreciatively. Suddenly Manuel found the retired officer’s goodwill more offensive than his skepticism or derision. Manuel’s face flushed with shame, and he looked away. He’d almost said they never kept any secrets from one another.
I’m an imbecile.
Nogueira continued his list. “Bills, personal schedule, calls, belongings. And ask for the return of his car. It’ll be in the storage yard, and I’d like to take a look at it.” He tucked away his notebook, leaned back, and lit another cigarette. “I guess that’ll do for a start.”
Manuel leaned forward in deliberate imitation of Nogueira, planting his elbows on the table where the lieutenant’s had been. “Two things. First, I’m the heir to all the worldly goods of álvaro Mu?iz de Dávila. The executor gave us a preview of the will yesterday. The businesses have been turned around, and in fact they’re in excellent shape now. This morning I instructed the executor and communicated to the family my decision to renounce the inheritance as soon as the will is probated three months from now.”
Nogueira’s eyebrows went up in astonishment. Manuel had a hunch the man wasn’t often that surprised.
“Interesting. That sets you up as the principal suspect and at the same time clears you of any motivation. At least as far as the assets are concerned.” He smiled slightly, as if at some private joke.
Manuel’s face was stony. “And second, álvaro was not my cousin or my brother-in-law. He was my husband. If that word offends you so much that you can’t pronounce it, refer to him as álvaro. But don’t let me hear you call him ‘your family member.’ And especially not ‘the victim.’”
Nogueira threw away his cigarette butt. He got to his feet. “Can do.” He looked with regret at the other bowl of stew sitting untouched on the table but went to the car anyway.
Nogueira’s BMW was old and the exterior was shabby. Telltale white spots on the roof showed that humidity had taken its toll. But the interior was spotless. The mats appeared to have been newly vacuumed, and the leather dashboard had been polished recently. An air freshener hung from an air-conditioning vent. Lieutenant Nogueira was clearly one of the rare smokers who don’t indulge inside the car. He drove and said nothing. Manuel would have preferred some music to cut the heavy silence that only served to amplify the sounds of their breathing and emphasize the paradox of finding themselves together. But he wasn’t going to ask for it.
The main road wound through curves and changes of grade. Nogueira drove at exactly the speed limit. When he turned off the main road, he slowed down significantly and took the opportunity to extract a cigarette from his packet. He held it unlit between his lips for several miles until at last they pulled up before a house enclosed by a fence. Four dogs ran up barking. They were different in size and appearance, but all were wary of the new arrivals. Nogueira got out, lit the cigarette, put a hand through the gate, and unlatched it. He walked toward the house, shooing away the dogs now trying to welcome him. When they caught sight of Manuel they forgot about Nogueira.
A woman in her midfifties came around the side of the house. She was slim and stern looking. A cloth hairband held her midlength hair away from her face. She scolded the dogs halfheartedly and welcomed Nogueira with a kiss on either cheek. She ushered the lieutenant inside, held out a strong plain hand, and gave Manuel a smile. He liked her immediately.
“I’m Ophelia,” she said. Only her first name. Nothing about her position, profession, or family name.
She’d been expecting them, just as Nogueira had predicted. Cooking aromas from the kitchen made it clear she’d been preparing a meal, but she’d set the table with a white cloth, three coffee cups, an ample selection of pastries, and a bottle of muscatel. She filled three small glasses.
“I’m glad that you decided to hear me out. We weren’t sure how you’d react.”
Manuel just nodded. “I never dreamed I’d have to hear such a thing. You can imagine how I feel. It’s just too . . . too . . .”
“We understand.” She took a sip of coffee. “I assume that Lieutenant Nogueira explained to you the serious consequences we’ll face if anyone finds out that we revealed confidential information about an investigation. Or a noninvestigation. Or whatever the hell you want to call it.”
“You have my word,” Manuel assured her. “No one will hear it from me.” He remembered Nogueira’s threat. The officer cleared his throat and gave Manuel another warning look.
“I was on overnight duty at the hospital last Saturday and Sunday. At 1:45 a.m. the traffic police notified me of an accident. We went to the scene in an ambulance but it was too late. We brought him to the hospital.” She sighed and then continued. “What I’m about to tell you may be very painful. If it’s too much for you at any point, just tell me to stop.”