“álvaro.”
“I have no trouble dialoguing with an atheist, but that’s not you, Manuel. You’re angry at God. I’m not judging you, but the reality is that you’ll have to resolve that issue with Him.”
Manuel smiled and shook his head. “What are you up to, se?or priest? And we were getting along so well!”
Unmoved, Lucas studied him for several seconds. “The innkeeper’s story is true. I see many such cases, especially toward the end of the year. Sometimes things are exactly what they seem.”
“The child received ‘unwelcome visitations’?”
“The child was inhabited. Possessed.”
Manuel felt a chill go down his spine. He suppressed the shudder. “And that’s what Herminia thought was affecting Samuel?”
“Samuel’s just like millions of other children all over the world. He has a terrific imagination, and it’s stimulated by constant exposure to adults. He’s already reading simple texts. It’s no surprise a child without friends should invent an imaginary playmate.”
“Is that what it was about? An imaginary friend? I had one from the age of six until I turned eight, more or less.”
“Just like Samuel. An imaginary playmate to fill a void. In your case, a void created by the death of your parents; and in Samuel’s case there is so much more vacancy to fill. At times I’ve seen him all alone, talking, laughing, nodding as if listening to someone. And as I said, Herminia is a fine woman who worries too much. She’s mistaken.”
“Good God! The more I learn about As Grileiras, the more sinister the place seems. Now I’m even more convinced I shouldn’t leave Elisa and the child there. Especially not after what I heard today. Never mind what álvaro decided—his mother asked him to kill his brother. And Elisa has lived all this time believing álvaro did exactly that.”
Lucas nodded vehemently. “I’ve been thinking this over. It’s important for us to discuss everything that happened today.”
“What part of it bothers you?” Manuel replied defensively.
Lucas exhaled a long doleful breath. He was determined. “All of it, Manuel. Everything Ortu?o said, what that horrible woman insinuated, everything. We absolutely must separate what we know to be true from the lies and insinuations. I listen to you, and it’s as if you’re willing to accept whatever anyone says about álvaro. It’s almost—excuse me, Manuel, it’s almost as if you embrace absolutely anything you hear.”
“You don’t believe what Ortu?o said?”
Lucas sighed, a sign of deep frustration. He closed his eyes for a moment. “I hate to say it, it’s terrible, but I believe Ortu?o word for word.” He paused. “And what Herminia said. But we must separate that information from malicious stories circulated with evil intent.”
Manuel stared at Lucas in silence. He chewed his lower lip and shrugged.
“Don’t let that woman manipulate you, Manuel. She’s still doing it, from afar. She’s exploiting your vulnerability and feeding you her absolutely lethal poison.”
Though aggrieved, Manuel had to acknowledge the poison. “She didn’t need to feed me anything, Lucas. The poison was already inside. I didn’t see it before, but everything we’ve learned has made the horrifying picture clear. I’m starting to see why álvaro decided to keep me out of it. I’m to blame for that as well. I gave in and went along. I let him watch over me and take care of everything. I was perfectly happy to become an idiot. It wasn’t all his fault, just as his mother isn’t entirely to blame for what I’m suspecting now. How can I help it? Uncertainty begets suspicion. He hid things from me, or maybe I just didn’t want to see them. We’re a band of cowards, and he knew it. álvaro was protecting me the way he protected all of them.”
Lucas straightened up, turned to face Manuel, and waved away that thought. “No, no, no, Manuel! I won’t have you wallowing in self-pity. Let go of all that. Give me the raw courage that sent you upstairs to pound on her door. I want the rejection I saw burning in your eyes when Elisa confessed her suspicions of álvaro. Give me the rage in your voice when you reminded us of the boy who refused to shoot a dog, when you said he saved his brother from a monster.”
Manuel understood and accepted that.
“That’s the rage of the just, Manuel. It doesn’t matter what anyone says. You and I know what kind of man álvaro was. We know, Manuel. Isn’t that true?”
Manuel inhaled deeply and kept his eyes on the priest.
Lucas continued. “And he was no murderer. What we learned today strengthens my conviction. He was just a child when he summoned the courage to defend his brother from a rapist; he paid dearly for it. I can’t imagine how he must have suffered all his life under the weight of that knowledge, made all the worse by his family’s repudiation. A man of that character doesn’t murder his brother or kill a blackmailer. He stands firm and confronts his adversary.”
A tear slid down Manuel’s cheek. He resisted it and swiftly raised a hand in a violent, almost frantic motion to wipe it away. He lowered his chin. “No!” he gasped, his voice raw and hoarse.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t believe what they’re claiming,” Lucas challenged him.
Manuel looked up, met his gaze, and said it again. “No! I don’t.”
Nogueira’s BMW pulled up alongside them. The policeman got out, closed the car door, and took his time. He leaned against the vehicle, lit a cigarette, and waited for them to come to him.
Lucas was annoyed by his nonchalance. “How did it go?”
“Well, better than I was expecting.” He turned to Manuel. “You can rest easy. It had nothing to do with our investigation, or at least not directly. It was about a previous case of mine.” He took a deep drag. “The death of Francisco Mu?iz de Dávila.”
“Fran?” Surprised, Lucas turned to look at Manuel.
The lieutenant nodded grimly. “Manuel, I assume you remember I told you it seemed strange to us at the time that, given his emotional state, Fran apparently took the time to lock the church door. We found no key, so we suspected someone else had locked it, pocketed the key, and walked off with it.”
Manuel nodded.
“Well, today it turned up.”
UNDER OPEN SKIES
Nogueira studied his cigarette. He took a couple of drags, exhaled a cloud of smoke, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. “They called me in to identify it, though there was really no need. It’s one of a kind, and I’d filed a detailed description: 4.7 inches long, artisan silver with eleven small emeralds set in the handle around Fran’s initials. To?ino had it. They found it when they examined the body. A colleague remembered I’d mentioned it.”
“Are they sure it’s the same one?”
“No room for doubt. The file contained the photos from the insurance company.”
“And how do they think he got it?”
“Excellent question! And that’s why they’re reopening the case. They know To?ino was his supplier. In her statement, Herminia said she saw him on the grounds that night. They think he was probably there when Fran died.” There was no trace of enthusiasm in Nogueira’s voice. “They’re looking at the theory To?ino gave him the dose, which seems likely, then dragged the body to the gravesite, left it there, locked the church door, and went off with the key.”
“Along the lines of what you suspected,” Manuel said. “Your idea that somebody moved the body. So you were right about that.”
“Yeah, I was right,” Nogueira echoed. He didn’t seem convinced. He continued smoking.
“You don’t look particularly pleased,” Lucas commented.