The Last Game

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by Fernando Trujillo Sanz


  He hardly had a hair on his head and the few locks that still resisted the ravages of time were totally white. His face was furrowed by a sea of wrinkles. An enormous stomach, a wide back and two dark eyes were the first things one noticed about him. Dante was sixty-three years old and his retirement in two years was foremost in his thoughts.

  In the meeting room his lawyer and only friend waited for him with his main financial assessor.

  “Have you checked the information that I sent you?” The advisor asked.

  “I´ve got it right here.” Dante said waving the folder in front of him. He sat down and then took the report out. “Is this the report you´re referring to?”

  The financial advisor confirmed with a quick glance that it was the complex analysis that his team had put together during the last two weeks.

  “That´s it. As you can see the numbers are correct and they reveal that . . .”

  “Everything’s in order. I agree with everything I´ve read.”

  “Then it would appear that we’re all of the same opinion.” The lawyer said.

  The financial advisor could barely contain his happiness.

  “It´s a safe property deal. In five years, when the land is revalued, the value will increase tenfold. You won´t regret it.”

  “Definitely not.” Dante replied. “Because we´re not going to do this deal.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed his words.

  “I don´t understand.” The advisor said. “If you agree with the report, what´s the problem? We´ve bribed all the key people. There´s no risk.”

  “Can´t you see it?” The lawyer asked confused. “It´s your type of operation. You´ve done thousands like this.”

  “That´s true. I know that well enough.” Dante agreed. “But I´m not getting involved with this one. I want to sell.”

  “What? That doesn´t make any sense.” The advisor said. “We´ve only got to wait five years and we´ll make a packet. You can´t pass that up.”

  “Yes, I can.” Dante rebuked him. “I´m not interested in investing in this. I just want to sell.”

  “But that’s absurd.”

  The advisor said nothing more. He was aware that he´d just exploded in front of his boss. Even so it wasn´t easy to contain himself. The rejection of an opportunity like this was almost impossible for an ambitious man like him to accept.

  The lawyer interrupted the two of them before things got any further out of hand, convincing the financial advisor to leave the room before it was too late.

  “You have to admit he was right.” The lawyer said to Dante after the advisor had left. ”It was a great deal. Besides, thousands of families will be without a home if we pull out.”

  “That´s not my problem,” Dante informed him. “Someone else will go ahead with the project. I´ve got other priorities.”

  “I´ve seen a change in you in the last few months.” The lawyer reflected. “What´s happened here today doesn´t seem like you at all.”

  “That´s my business.”

  Dante picked the report up off the table and opened the folder to put the report back inside but didn’t get that far. His hand remained in the air.

  “Is something wrong?” The lawyer asked, looking at Dante´s hand suspended in the air.

  Dante didn´t answer him. He kept on looking at a letter that was sitting inside the folder and that he was sure he hadn´t put there. He put the report down and took the envelope out. It was black with white edges, without any address. He opened it and took a sheet of paper with a note written in red ink out. He was amazed at the exceptional handwriting. He began to read it carefully.

  “What are you reading?” The lawyer asked out of curiosity. “It´s a blank sheet.”

  Dante finished reading and dropped the sheet of paper on the table. He crossed the meeting room without looking back at the lawyer and disappeared.

  Two minutes later, he left through the front door of the building with his coat on.

  * * * * *

  CHAPTER TWO

  When Alvaro arrived at his destination it was already night. He felt completely disorientated.

  He´d left the hospital only a short while before, a half an hour at the most. He´d only gone three subway stops. He remembered having shielded his eyes from the sunshine shortly before starting down the stairs. So how was it possible that it was already night time?

  He looked up at the large moon in the sky while he walked along the street. There was no one else around. The sound of his steps echoing as he went, breaking the overwhelming silence around him. He stopped under the intermittent light of a bent streetlamp, that looked as if it was about to collapse, and checked the number of the house.

  It was impossible to mistake. The address had been engraved in his memory in red fire from the color of the ink with which it had been written.

  The house that stood in front of him had nothing in common with the rest of the houses along the street. Or the whole suburb for that matter Flanked by two enormous blocks of concrete, at least ten floors high, the small simple wooden building in between seemed to come from an older, different time. A wooden cross, that seemed to have been carved by hand, and which hung at a dangerous angle, crowned the roof. The house stood on its own rather small block of land, framed by a rusty wrought iron gate, overgrown with a wild tangle of ivy, that looked on the edge of collapsing at any minute.

  Alvaro walked to the gate and pushed it open. He crossed the garden, treading on a line of smooth stones, covered here and there by grass, which formed a rough path to the main door of the house. His steps echoed strangely against the stones beneath his feet. When he was halfway to the door, something caught his attention. The silhouette of something that didn´t go with the rest of the garden was to his left. The dim light didn’t help him make out what the shape was, but after observing it for a few seconds, Alvaro realized that it was a very large stone cross on the top of a tomb. And that wasn´t all there was to see in this garden. He looked behind him and heard something that sent a sharp chill up his spine.

  “I thought you would like this.” A voice said.

  Alvaro stopped in his tracks and stared in the direction the voice had come from and saw an old man on the stone cross. He was short and had long white hair tied in a ponytail. As close to normal as anything could be in this strange garden, except for the fact that no one had been there a half a second before. Alvaro didn´t know what to say. The old man was looking at something that he was holding in his right hand, leaning on a black walking stick with the other hand.

  “Yes, it´s definitely appropriate.” The old man said. Then he lifted his head and looked at Alvaro. “Well, look who´s here. You don´t know how happy I am to see you. Listen, I need an opinion. Do you think this flower is the right choice for a woman who´s just lost her husband?“ He asked extending his hand in front of him.

  Alvaro looked at the ugly wild flower in his hand.

  “A rose would be better.” He suggested, looking at a rose bush.

  The old man thought about it.

  “I think I´ll take your advice, boy.” He said throwing the wild flower down on the ground and cutting a striking long stemmed yellow rose from the bush. “Yes, I think you are right. It´s perfect and my sweet Gema deserves the very best. I owe you a favor. And Tedd always pays his debts. Now I´ve got return to the morgue." And he disappeared.

  Alvaro blinked several times to make sure that he wasn´t dreaming. After a few seconds he convinced himself that he had imagined the whole thing and went back to the curious stone path that led to the house.

  He wasn´t surprised to find that there was no doorbell there when he got to the door. He had the impression of having entered another world, one in which electricity wasn´t required. He lifted his fist ready to knock but didn’t get that far. Before his knuckles made contact with the wood the door simply opened by itself, the hinges protesting with a long sharp squeak as they turned lazily. It seemed to take an eternity to open.
/>   The surgeon entered and wasn´t surprised to hear the door close behind him, although this time it closed quickly.

  It was warm inside. A fragrance floating through the air that he couldn´t identify. It was pungent and intoxicating and in an inexplicable way he knew that it was an aroma that he would only smell once in his life.

  He didn´t pay too much attention to the ostentatious decoration of the entrance and opened the two enormous doors, in the form of an arc, that he presumed led to the main hall.

  He felt slightly dizzy. The huge hall was much greater than it should have been judging by the appearance of the house from the outside. It had to be close to seventy square meters. Its sheer size unnerved him and he had to make an effort to steady his nerves. He knew what was coming and shouldn´t have expected that this house would be normal.

  The floor was wooden and covered by colored tapestry rugs that appeared to be very soft. Alvaro had the sudden whim of taking his shoes off and walking on them. The furniture was obviously antique baroque and the curtains that reached the floor and kept the windows well hidden, were a familiar red color.

  “Good evening.” Alvaro said happily.

  There were two people seated on a high-backed sofa that matched the rugs on the floor. One was a woman, more a girl really, her face delicate, her expression sad. It took Alvaro some time to take his eyes off the fascinating long black hair that covered her shoulders.

  A strange looking individual sat next to her. It was obvious that he hadn´t been to the hairdresser´s for a long time and seemed dirty and in need of a good shower. He had long unruly hair that almost reached his shoulders. The natural color of his hair was more than likely brown but it was so dirty that it was hard to tell. His features were all but lost behind a similarly dirty beard. He was dressed in a cheap tracksuit with a tear in the form of the number seven on one of his knees. The shoes he wore matched the rest of his attire. The only thing that was apparently clean was an unironed black and brown checked shirt that didn´t go with anything else. Judging by the expression on his face, he seemed to be lost in another world.

  Neither of the two bothered to welcome Alvaro.

  “If you´ve come for the same reason as me then we´re in for a very long night.” Alvaro said trying to sound friendly. “It´s going to be a lot longer if nobody says anything.”

  The girl turned her head slowly in his direction and spoke softly. “You´re right, I´m sorry. I´m Judith and this is Hector. He doesn´t say much.”

  “I can see that.” Alvaro said.

  The longer he looked at the girl the younger she appeared to be. He put her at around twenty. And if that was the case, it was horrible. A person of that age shouldn´t be here. “Excuse my curiosity, but you appear . . .”

  “The moment´s arrived” a grave voice behind him said. “Couldn´t you have got here on time. We´ve been waiting for you. Waiting to start.”

  Alvaro turned to see the man who was talking to him. He was at least sixty years old. Fat and bald, except for a few sparse white locks. He was wearing a very expensive suit and a tie that hung loosely around his neck. He looked vaguely familiar.

  The allusion to Alvaro being late seemed strange. He´d come as soon as he´d received the letter, driven here by an inexplicable need to arrive as soon as he could.

  “I came as quickly as I could. There´s no point getting off on the wrong foot.” He said, offering this disagreeable individual a false smile. “It’d be better if we all get on well with each other, if that´s possible. My name´s Alvaro, and there´s no point losing your temper so soon. What do you reckon?”

  The stranger frowned at him for a few moments, then said. “I´m Dante. And now we´re enemies.”

  It was a simple, blunt reply. His analysis of the situation was right and he hadn´t hesitated to emphasize the point. That didn’t benefit his strategy. Alvaro considered Dante as potentially dangerous, probably the strongest of the three, based on first impressions. A hard man, without any doubt, and besides that, an idiot. Alvaro didn´t like him. And the thought that he´d seen him somewhere before wouldn´t go away.

  “Just because we´re going to face one another doesn’t mean that we have to hate each other. It´s only a game after all. If we play it in the right spirit.”

  “Cut the crap.”Dante snarled, as he walked over to a table near the sofa and served himself a drink from one of the numerous bottles there. “Well, then what’s our host waiting for? Let´s get this party underway.”

  “Where´s Zeta?” a child´s voice asked.

  They all looked at each other. Even Hector who hadn´t taken his eyes off the floor until now. He lifted his wrinkled head up and shot a glance around the room.

  The voice they´d heard was a little girl´s. But they couldn´t see anyone. They heard a playful little laugh and the shuffling of little feet as she came into view behind Judith and Hector.

  Alvaro edged around the sofa, followed closely by Dante, and they came across a sight that was difficult to believe.

  “Did anyone know that she was here?” Alvaro asked.

  The rest shook their heads in silence.

  Playing on the rug they´d found a little girl around five years old. Six at the most. She had dark hair collected in two high buns. Her eyes were two penetrating black spheres that shone out of soft white skin. Her smile was irresistible and she seemed to be looking around the room for something. “Where is Zeta?” She repeated.

  “What´s this little girl doing here?” Dante asked, irritated.

  Hector kneeled down beside the girl studying her carefully.

  “I don´t know where Zeta is, little one.” Alvaro answered her. “Who is Zeta?

  “This is absurd.” Dante grumbled. “A little girl shouldn´t be here tonight. I´ll take her to the police.”

  “No, you won´t!” Hector said standing up.

  “What´s up with you?” Dante asked him.

  Hector didn´t take his eyes off the girl, who continued to look at everyone with an amused expression. She moved with tiny little steps around the carpet getting close to each one as they spoke. She kept away from Judith though who remained on her armchair studying her.

  “I wouldn´t touch her if I were you.” Hector advised. “It´s her!”

  “What are you trying to say?” Alvaro asked him. “That she´s got an invitation too? That´s impossible.”

  “You’re the one who shouldn´t touch her.” Dante countered. “You´d probably give her some foul disease if you did.”

  Dante walked past the girl.

  “It´s her!” Hector repeated.

  Dante stood still, studying her. He obviously didn´t agree.

  “Look at her shadow!” Hector advised him.

  They all followed his suggestion. It took a few seconds to see what Hector was talking about. Alvaro crouched down and looked at her more closely. It was too incredible to believe. He had to be dreaming. Judith leaned back in the armchair. Dante rolled his eyes and opened his mouth.

  “It´s impossible.” Alvaro said stunned.

  “It´s a trick.” Dante said.

  “Really?” Judith asked. “And how do you do a trick like that?”

  Dante didn´t answer. He kept on looking at the girl´s shadow, like all the rest were. It was projected in the opposite direction to theirs. Towards the light!

  Alvaro studied her face. It was illuminated by the light of a lamp behind her. It didn´t make any sense.

  He was convinced now. “Yes, it´s definitely her.”

  “This is the last thing I would have expected.” Dante said. “She´s too young. How old is she? I doubt that she even knows how to write. She couldn´t have invited us here!”

  Alvaro could see that Dante was nervous. He was trying to convince himself that there was no way that this seemingly innocent child had been the one behind all of this. It was hard to believe. But was there any other explanation?

  “I want to play.” The girl said suddenly.

  She gave th
e floor a couple of slaps, got up with difficulty and walked towards the table. The three men got out of her way. She half stumbled to one of the chairs around the table, smiling as she went. That pleased Alvaro because the last thing he wanted to see was this girl angry.

  “I don´t think she can get up on her own.” Dante said watching as the little girl did her best to find her way up onto a chair that was too high for her. “Maybe, we should help her.”

  “Good idea.” Alvaro agreed, putting his hand out to help her up.

  Dante didn´t move. Alvaro saw a fleeting look of fear in his eyes. He realized he didn´t dare touch the little hostess.

  Hector watched the girl patiently as if no one else existed in the world.

  “She´s telling you to sit down.” Judith said from the armchair. “Haven´t you seen what´s on the table?”

  They all looked at it. There were five seats around the table but the bottles that had been there before had disappeared. In their place there was a plain green tablecloth without decoration with something in its center that represented the true reason for this meeting.

  “You´re right.” Dante agreed. He passed beside the girl to a chair at the far end of the table. “I hope she brings the drinks back.”

  Hector sat down to the girl´s right without saying a word.

  “I´ll help her to get up.” Alvaro said.

  He walked over to the girl and bent down with his arms extended, trying to lift her up. That was something that he didn´t get to do. He remained frozen in that position as he heard a deep growl behind him. The sound was frightening and echoed through the whole room with unbelievable force. The warning was clear enough to Alvaro. He turned his neck slowly around, his arms still extended in front of him.

  Dante stood up and backed away from the table. Hector stayed where he was staring at the little girl. Judith´s mouth was wide open and she was holding a cushion to her chest as tightly as she could.

 

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