How could I have been so stupid?
I walked for a long time and, without realizing it, I reached the first houses in Vinces. I slowed my pace, more out of surprise than tiredness, and continued toward the plaza. I reached the park next to the miniature Eiffel Tower and sat on a bench. Undoubtedly, Martin would tell Angélica about me now. There was no reason to keep covering up for me.
I sat there for a few minutes, leaning forward with my hands pressed against my eyes until I heard a familiar voice.
“Don Cristóbal?”
I raised my head and recognized Aquilino, who waved at me and crossed the street in my direction.
“Don Tomás, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, just taking care of some business for one of my clients, but I’m heading back to Guayaquil now.”
I hoped this business had nothing to do with the bank manager telling Aquilino about me and my inquiries.
“How are things going with you?” he asked.
An idea came to mind. I felt the pocket watch in my trousers. “You said you’re going to Guayaquil now, right?”
“Yes, Paco is waiting for me at the docks.”
“Would you mind if I came with you? There’s someone I need to see in Guayaquil.”
He adjusted his hat. “Sure.”
*
As we headed toward the docks, Aquilino mentioned that he hadn’t heard anything from the Panamanian government concerning Puri’s death certificate.
“Have they contacted you?” he asked.
I considered telling him the truth, but I would have to think about it some more. Once the truth was out, there was no turning back, and I had to learn everything I could before I became exposed to all.
“No,” I said, and renewed my walk. “I met your former employee, Mayra.”
He removed a handkerchief from his back pocket and dried the sweat from his neck. “You did, did you?”
“Yes, she’s now working at Don Martin’s house.”
“She is?”
“Well, the poor woman was desperate. It’s not easy being an unwed mother and not having a job.”
Aquilino stopped. “An unwed mother? What are you saying?”
“You didn’t know? Mayra is expecting.”
“I had no idea.”
He seemed honestly surprised, or maybe he was a good liar.
I lowered my voice. “She said that was why you fired her.”
“She did? But that’s a lie! What kind of man would do that? Who do you think I am?”
“I apologize, Don Tomás, I’m just telling you what she said.”
“Well, that’s a rotten lie meant to cover up her own dishonesty. Do you know why I really fired her?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I found her snooping through my things, and it was not the first time. I’d caught her going through my papers once before and I warned her that if she ever did that again, I would fire her.”
Snooping through papers? What interest would she have in his affairs?
“That’s strange,” I said.
“Indeed.” He pressed the handkerchief against his forehead. “The first time was over a month ago. I thought it was peculiar because I’d always thought she was illiterate.” He faced the front. “You know what’s even stranger?”
“What?”
“She was reading the telegraph you had sent me from Málaga with your itinerary.”
CHAPTER 37
The rest of my trip to Guayaquil happened in a daze. It was a good thing that both Paco and Aquilino were quiet men because I could do a lot of thinking while we traveled from one river to the next until we reached the Guayas.
So Mayra had been interested in knowing when Cristóbal and I were arriving in Guayaquil. As I recalled, Cristóbal gave Aquilino all the details of our trip: the dates, the names of our ships, the ports.
Could she be the mysterious woman who’d hired Franco? My first thought was that Mayra might be Elisa, but she’d claimed to have a relationship with Alberto, to be carrying his child, and my brother didn’t deny it. Elisa knew Alberto was her brother. I found it hard to believe she would’ve been intimate with him. It made more sense to think that she’d been gathering information for Alberto, who may have found out about Mayra’s pregnancy after he’d renounced his share. Perhaps when my father first died, my brother hadn’t foreseen he would be needing any money, but this baby changed everything. Now he had to hide what he’d done or maybe start a new life with Mayra.
Either way, he needed capital.
As soon as we arrived in Guayaquil, I thanked Aquilino for his help and got lost among the dozens of pedestrians heading toward downtown without giving him a chance to make further plans with me, or to find out anything about my mysterious visit to Guayaquil.
I removed the pocket watch and turned the case over. Engraved on the back was the watchmakers’ name, Bolivar e Hijos.
I asked at least ten people if they knew where the jewelry store was. After much confusion, I finally found a man who, without hesitation, pointed in the right direction.
A sign in cursive letters told me this was the right place.
As I pulled the door open, three austere men turned toward me. Bolivar and sons? They were standing behind a massive counter, working on some pieces. The older one, closer to the door, sported a curly mustache over his upper lip and a blue smock. The other two men looked like the younger and older version of the same person: the same angular nose, the large forehead, but one had a fuller face and a thicker frame.
“Can I help you?” the old man said.
“Yes,” I said, “I have gotten a hold of a pocket watch manufactured here nine years ago. I need to know if you have any record of whom you sold this watch to. I need to track down its rightful owner.”
He stared at me over his spectacles.
“It’s an issue of life and death,” I added, in an attempt to move him. At moments like this, I wished I could be myself. A woman could always use her charms to recruit the help of a man for any endeavor.
“Let me see,” he said.
I placed the pocket watch on the counter. He picked it up and examined it. “Lizardo, come.”