Secrets of Spain Trilogy

by Caroline Angus Baker

  Luna and Cayetano barely got in the front door of her apartment when the phone rang. “Whatever it is,” Luna said as she reached for the phone on the kitchen counter, “it can wait. We need go and pick up the kids from school in five minutes.”

  “If we lived in Madrid, we would have people who could help out,” Cayetano muttered to himself as she took the call.

  “Lulu,” Darren said, his voice sharp in Luna’s ear. “Are you at home?”

  “No, I answered my home phone while not here.”

  “I need to see you.”

  “Oh, okay. I’ll just get the kids from school…”

  “Can Cayetano do that? He’s in the city, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he is… what’s the rush?”

  “This meeting would go better without the boys.”

  Luna frowned. The kids were part of everything she did. Darren wouldn’t side-line them without good reason. “What’s wrong? Should we meet up somewhere to talk?”

  “No, this needs to be done at home.”

  Luna stood out on her balcony and looked down over the Turia park while she waited for Darren. The spring sun felt warm on her sweater as she watched Cayetano wander through the park in the direction of the school not too far away. Luna lost sight of him when he disappeared amongst the trees about the Gulliver playground, a huge statue of the traveller himself, lying down for children to climb on and around. The trees were doing their best to open their buds in the spring sun. But the sunshine daydream got forgotten when she heard the doorbell.

  Darren did his best to smile when she opened the door. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Haven’t seen you since work this morning,” Luna joked as Darren came in and kicked off his black shoes. “Coffee?”

  Darren shook his head. “Let’s sit down, yeah?”

  “Okay, but you’re starting to worry me.” Luna sat down on the couch, and Darren took his usual spot next to her, just like when they lived together. “What could be so bad?”

  “You’re going to get a call from Tomás or Marco, and you’re not going to like it.”

  “Wait, am I getting fired from the team?”

  “No… well…”

  “What the fuck, Darren? I’ve been working my ass off for months! I’m a damn skilled mechanic!”

  “Luna, shut up for a minute, and just listen to me. I’m doing my best to help you. It’s about Fabrizio and Operacíon Porto.”

  “My husband was not a drug user. He was clean cyclist, and anything Operacíon Porto finds about doped cyclists, it’s not my concern.”

  “Luna, you know as well as me that there were riders using drugs when we cycled for Team Forza with Fabrizio.”

  “Darren, you were a domestique with Team Forza and you weren’t on drugs.”

  “No, I wasn’t.”

  “And neither was Fabrizio.”

  “Everyone on Team Forza denied being a patient of Doctor Ferra and his doping practices. You also know how it worked; the drugs would come on a motorcycle courier, or via wives carrying drugs for their husbands. There was also all the team trips here to Valencia to drop off blood to be stored for later doping.”

  “So?”

  “So, don’t sit there and tell me that Fabrizio didn’t move to Valencia around the same time that Doctor Ferra was hired to be his doctor.”

  “Lots of riders hired Doctor Ferra, you included.”

  “Lots of riders stopped at Doctor Ferra’s house here and dropped off blood to be frozen, and they had it delivered and re-injected later. It caused their red blood cell count to skyrocket and push them up the mountains.”

  “But you make it sound as if they were injecting EPO, or testosterone, or cortisone.”

  “That could be injected into the blood bags, and would wear off enough to beat testing during race time. Fabrizio swore by having Doctor Ferra so close to home.”

  Luna shook her head with defiance. “My husband wasn’t a doper. Fabrizio swore to me. He swore on the lives of our sons. I believed him when he said he was clean. Drug testers would show up and test him all the time, and he always passed. I defended Fabrizio at every turn to every single person who has dared suggest otherwise.”

  “I know, that’s why it’s so hard to talk to you about this.”

  “About what? What has changed, that stupid Irene Lupus? That whore who dares say she had an affair with my husband? I don’t believe her! Why would Fabrizio tell his ‘mistress’ about his drug-taking, but not me, his wife who worked on the team and saw him every day?”

  “Because Irene was married to Piero Lupus, and he was our boss. The boss who endorsed drug use to win races. Irene knew what was happening, just like we knew, Luna. Irene was a rich wife because of the wins that Fabrizio got for the team. Irene didn’t know the truth because she was Fabrizio’s mistress, she knew because Piero might have told her, or at least didn’t hide it. Now that she is estranged from Piero, she needs to make money other ways.”

  “Ways like lying about my Fabrizio’s career, dignity and legacy?”

  “Luna, the story will be out tomorrow. You need to prepare yourself for this going public.”

  A feeling of disgust rose in Luna’s veins. “People make drug accusations. They do about all cyclists, all the time. I will argue this with my head held high.”

  “Lulu.” Darren shuffled forward and held her hands on her lap. “This isn’t the same. Even though Operación Porto and the drug scandals haven’t reached the Spanish courts yet, there is a lot of evidence. There are bags of frozen blood labelled ‘Zelos’ in the hands of investigators. You and I both know who had that nickname.”

  Zelos, God of rivalry. Luna felt a lump form in the back of her throat. She could hear fans calling ‘Zelos, Zelos’ when Fabrizio crossed finish lines. “That proves nothing,” she uttered.

  “Maybe not in a court, but it does to some… to me.”

  “How could you?” Luna said with a raised voice. “After everything, after 15 years of being friends, after Fabrizio carrying your career until you could be a worthy rider on your own. Now you would dare to say that to me?”

  Darren held her hands tight as she tried to pull away. “Lulu, please. I think this because I believe it to be true. Too much evidence is mounting for us to ignore what’s happening.”

  “Does it say ‘Fabrizio Merlini’ on that blood bag, or in any of Doctor Ferra’s files that are being used in evidence for Operación Porto?”

  “No, not that I heard about, anyway.”

  “Then there isn’t proof. What are they going to do? Fabrizio is dead, and his ashes are buried. They can’t prove a thing.”

  “They can take a sample from your sons and test it for a DNA match.”

  Luna felt her first sob rise and escape her lips. “No, they wouldn’t,” she squeaked out as tears filled her eyes.

  “It’s the Spanish court system, so who knows. This whole thing blew up in 2006 and still nothing has got to court. It may never. Fabrizio is protected because of his death.”

  “And yet it’s me who has to face this alone. Again.”

  Darren took a deep breath as he looked at his friend begin to cry. “I’m sorry, Lulu.”

  Luna broke down the moment Darren pulled her into his arms. His own eyes were wet while he let her cry on his shoulder. “I’m such a fool,” she moaned.

  “No, you’re not,” Darren said. “You trusted him.”

  “Fabrizio lied to me,” she sobbed. “I promised I would back him up… even if he was a cheat… I promised to side with him… but he swore he was clean… he lied right to my face…”

  Darren just shook his head every time she paused to cry. “Lulu, none of this is your fault.”

  “Of course it is… I should have been smarter than this… it’s so obvious… everyone was doping… I’m so blind…”

  “Lulu, you had two little babies to care for on your own. You were so upset when you had Giacomo and Enzo and your father couldn’t be there. You pushed on with two infants, on t
he bloody Tour buses at races with them so you could hold onto your job. You had already been pushed to your personal limits, Lulu. Fabrizio couldn’t put any more pressure on you by telling you the truth.”

  “Fabrizio cheated…. lied… used blood doping to win?” Luna pulled away from Darren and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered. “What if he had an affair with Irene? Why would she lie?”

  “To hurt her husband, Piero, to belittle him. We shouldn’t believe the words from a vicious woman who has revenge on her mind. Fabrizio loved you.”

  “Now the affair rumours have been said, they can never be unsaid. I’ll never know the truth.” Luna closed her eyes and thought back to the time when her husband was at the height of his cycling career while she juggled with newborn sons. Was he a cheater on the bike or in the bedroom? Fabrizio didn’t seem the type to lie about drugs or sex. But he could have lied about anything. He must have had a natural talent for lying. “How much more do I need to suffer?”

  Darren wiped a tear from his eye. “Christ, I don’t know.”

  “Max and Paulina are going to hear about this. They’ve already come to terms with their dead son’s wife getting remarried and his sons being raised by another man. Now this? That their son was a cheat, on and off the bike? Will the UCI strip Fabrizio of his titles? Will his poor sons suffer all this along with me?”

  “I doubt they will strip him of his titles. They can’t prove anything, not for certain, not with him dead.”

  “Mud sticks,” Luna said with a stronger tone. “God, what will the boys think?”

  “They’re six; it can’t hurt them.”

  “Until they grow older. One day they will be big enough to understand, be big enough to read about it. If their father lied to the world when he won the Tour de France, it’s Giacomo, Enzo and me who have to live with it.”

  Darren rested his head in his hands while he composed himself. “Lulu, I can’t lie, I’m so fucking angry right now.” He stopped and took another deep breath. Luna could see the anger in his expression. “Fabrizio could have come clean, taken a suspension, and have been redeemed. Back then, the penalties weren’t even that harsh! Everything would have been all right. We can’t ask why he didn’t tell the truth. I guess he liked winning more than telling the truth.”

  Luna began to cry again, and Darren pulled her against him. “Fabrizio loved winning more than he loved us,” she sobbed against his shirt.

  “If they find proof that all this is true, I’ll hate him forever. I can’t help it,” he mumbled.

  “Even now… even now, I feel guilty for doubting him…. he promised me…”

  “Then let’s hope the reports are wrong. But as the evidence is mounting, you need to be prepared for what will be said. As for Irene and her affair accusations… I don’t know, I wouldn’t trust her or anything she says. It may be a case of smoke blowing out of her ass.”

  Luna smiled in spite of herself. “I thought Fabrizio loved me.”

  “He did, Lulu, he did. And Giacomo and Enzo.”

  “Oh my God,” she whispered. “Here I was, thinking that being a widow of a hero was a burden. Now this, to be the widow of a liar and a cheat…”

  “No matter what, this changes nothing about you, Lulu. The pain you have suffered wasn’t in vain. You have worked so hard to get over the accident, and you have looked after the boys so well. You have gotten your life back on track.”

  “And now it’s ruined…. again.”

  “Apart from Irene’s story getting out tomorrow to the public, there is something else.”

  “Let me guess, Ciclo Valenciana don’t want me on staff because I harboured a drug cheat in my own home.”

  “That is not how Tomás or Marco would put it.”

  “Lots of cycling teams have riders and staff accused and convicted of drug use, and they keep their jobs.”

  “But Tomás campaigns the team on public money and has to be hard-line on being drug-free. The Valencian government are keen to avoid any more scandals, so we need to look perfect. God knows the government gets themselves into enough lying and fraud scandals on their own. They may as well be called the corrupt region of Spain.”

  “No one is innocent in Spain.”

  “I’m well aware.”

  “So, I’m out of the team because my husband may have been a drug user and the asshole government officials who pay our bills won’t like the fact? Is that it?”

  “Just for now. Tomás and Marco will talk to you. It’s temporary, for a few weeks, I’m sure.”

  “How will you ride without a mechanic?”

  “I was Fabrizio’s domestique when he won the Tour de France in 2004. I might be suspended, too.”

  “But that will ruin your preparation for the Paris – Roubaix race! It’s the world’s biggest one-day classic, and you need your mechanic. It’s got the toughest cobbled sections on earth! You need me!”

  “I can kiss goodbye to winning that event this year. I’m lucky to have a job.”

  “None of this is fair! Darren, you didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “I will get through it, but I’m more worried about the impact of this on you. I know you have Cayetano lean on, but still…”

  “But still, it’s not his problem, he has his own life. He doesn’t need the hang-ups of my past on his shoulders.”

  “You should be allowed to share your burdens, though.”

  They heard the front door open, and Luna sat up and wiped her tears. A few moments later the boys came in and dumped their schoolbags on the tiles. The pair ran to their mother for a hug, and she hoped they wouldn’t notice that she had been crying.

  “How are you, boys?” Darren asked with a fake smile. “Tell me, have you had any chocolate today?”

  “Nope, not allowed at school,” Enzo said as Luna ran her fingers through his curly red hair.

  “I love chocolate as much as I love Mummy,” Giacomo added.

  “Me, too,” Darren said and sniffed. “How about I take you fine young gentlemen out for chocolate right now, and give your Mummy time to do special Mummy things?”

  “Can we, Mummy?” Giacomo asked.

  “Of course you can.”

  Cayetano stood with his arms folded as Darren hurried the two bright boys out of the room and out of the apartment. He noticed the man had red eyes when he stepped past Cayetano without a word. “Preciosa, what the hell happened? Why is he allowed more time with the boys than me?”

  Luna shook her head. “I don’t know where to start.”

  Cayetano sat down in Darren’s place and took her crestfallen face in his hands. “The beginning.”

  “Never mind the story if we dug up bodies at Escondrijo. Tomorrow you will be marrying the woman who harboured one of professional cycling’s most illustrious liars and cheats.”

  “Oh, Luna. What’s happened?”

  “Dead men can’t talk, but they can still ruin happiness.”

  “Tell me everything,” Cayetano said as he hugged her. “And tell me what I can do.”

  “Adopt my boys. Be a decent father, God knows they are going to need one.”

  13

  Madrid, España ~ Abril de 2010

  The case against Doctor Álvaro Ferra, the famed doctor of many the world’s top professional cyclists, continues to mount with further allegations against him. As Operación Porto’s evidence continues to pile up ahead of a court case outlining crimes committed by Doctor Ferra, more cyclists come forward with admissions of guilt. No case is more scandalous than the allegations made over deceased Italian cycling legend, Fabrizio Merlini, who is accused of multiple blood-doping offences and moral misconduct behind the scenes of the sport’s greatest races. The widow of the late Merlini, Luna Montgomery, who joined forces with Ciclo Comunitat Valenciana only a few months ago, has been suspended from her position pending an inquiry. The rumours of Merlini’s drug use and an affair with the wife of his former team boss, look more credible by the day, with many r
iders admitting to knowing more about Merlini’s behaviour than initially testified. With the blood bags labelled ‘Zelos’ lying untested and unidentified, an enormous shadow has been cast over Merlini and his wife’s involvement in professional cycling.

  The Valencian sun didn’t follow Luna to Madrid. For two weeks, she had sat day after day in her apartment, to avoid everyone she could. The only person she had much contact with was Bonita, the lonely old widow who wandered the building, and muttered to herself. At least Bonita didn’t ask any questions, other than about the children and whether Luna wanted to learn to knit. The school runs had been fraught with looks and whispers. Poor Luna, her fancy husband was a drugs cheat. As if she hadn’t had enough pity thrown at her in recent years.

  Now things seemed certain to get worse. A trip to Madrid to see her in-laws. No doubt they would be mad about all the negative publicity she had brought on their family’s ‘hero’. Poor innocent Cayetano, marrying a woman involved in a world of lies and drugs, and ultimately, fraud. If Fabrizio was cheating, his earnings from his years on the bike had been gathered in an act of deception. Not only had she lost the faith of her husband’s honesty, she could also go broke when sponsors demanded his fortune back. The Beltrán Morales family must have been humiliated to be involved in any way. They already had their own troubles.

  Madrid offered no respite. Luna could step outside without the worry of seeing someone she knew, but Cayetano had less opportunity. Everyone knew Cayetano was due to marry Luna, and he got smiles and graces, but Luna was unwelcome. A simple trip to the Cristal Palace in El Retiro park with the kids seemed less fun when people stopped and stared. Luckily, most people there were tourists and didn’t recognise one of Madrid’s most popular sons, or his now disgraced fiancé. But the locals knew, and Spanish people made no secret of their opinions. Even the guy who sold churros by the park’s beautiful Estanque del Retiro, the lake surrounding the giant marble and bronze monument of King Alfonso XII, had an opinion after reading the newspaper. Not a pleasant opinion either.

  “Just ignore him,” Cayetano said as they wandered the cobbles around the lake, the kids filling themselves with churros covered in chocolate sauce.