The room was dark now. Lucas fumbled about with a candle and finally got it lit. The room had gone cold, as he’d left the window open. He closed it, but as he did, he was surprised to hear all the shouting and singing and chanting coming from every corner of the courtyard.
“Please shut that, Lucas. The noise is very distracting. I don’t see how we’re going to get any sleep tonight.”
Lucas didn’t care. He liked that sound. It meant things were happening out in Salamanca tonight. Students everywhere would soon be out, having fun and causing trouble, leaving a wake of destruction in their path and creating stories they would tell for the rest of their lives. Lucas had overheard a few of these wild student stories in the past, and he wondered if he would have a few of his own someday.
“Is there any food, Lucas?” Armada asked as he plopped down in the chair that sat against the back wall. “I’m quite exhausted.”
“Yes, sir. I bought a bit of bread from the bakery earlier today. It’s all we have until I can get to the market tomorrow.”
“Just give me that with a glass of sherry, that will do for tonight. Thank you.” He gobbled up the bread and washed it down with a bit of sherry.
“You’re back quite late, sir.”
“Yes. I wanted to take a walk tonight to consider all I’ve learned.”
On the first day? Lucas thought this sounded odd. He wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that Armada had given him the map to the room without looking at it.
“Did you learn something, sir?”
“Yes. Our victim was leading a double life. He told his wife he was going to Madrid every few weeks to look for better employment, employment he was unlikely to get without first advancing in his university career. And his colleague, Enrique, seems to think he rarely, if ever, stepped foot in Madrid. Which means he was up to something else here in town.”
“Another woman?” Lucas asked. It was the usual reason for men to hide their movements. They had come across the situation many times in the past, but it always surprised Lucas. How was one family not enough? Having two was very expensive and could easily land one in prison for bigamy. Or worse, in trouble with the Inquisition. It was a secret that was difficult, if not impossible, to keep. So why take the risk?
“Possibly. But I doubt it. There are always rumours swirling about when it comes to adultery, and I feel I would have heard whispers of it by now. No, I’m getting the sense Gregorio Cordoba was up to something more devious than that. Something that would have landed him and his family in prison if anyone ever found out. I think he was protecting his family. But from what?” Armada sighed again and took another swig of his sherry. “This is where I will start tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.”
Armada gave Lucas a curious look, as if considering something he wasn’t sure of.
“What is it, sir?”
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re old enough.”
“For what?”
Armada squinted his eyes. Whatever was weighing on his mind, he had already decided to do it. Now, the old man was just making his peace with his decision. It excited Lucas. It meant he would be offered an opportunity to contribute something significant to the case.
“We have to consider that Gregorio Cordoba’s murder may have nothing at all to do with his secret life. It may be related to this student election for the university chair, of which he was a candidate. Apparently, the methods used to swing elections one way or another can get out of control. Even violent. There is a chance one of the colegio boys took things too far one night while trying to convince Gregorio to drop out of the race.”
“It’s possible, sir.”
Armada stood and began to pace, swinging his half-empty sherry glass through the air, a sign the old man was still organising his own thoughts.
“But in order to confirm anything, I would have to speak to the boys of the colegio San Bartolomé. Specifically, this Julian de Benaudalla. But I doubt they would tell me anything.”
“Why not?”
“Because these are the offspring of the patrons of the colegio mayor of San Bartolomé. They are titled nobility, wealthy industrialists, judges, lawyers, and people who sit on the Royal Council, and they use that college as a way to guarantee a path for their children into the upper ranks of our society. As such, these boys know there is little anyone could do if they misbehave, especially when it comes to a student election. Young men like that resemble a pack of wolves, and wolves protect each other from outsiders like myself.”
Armada approached Lucas, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“So, I need an insider.”
“But I don’t know them, sir.”
“You will. The thing about a wolf pack is they are always looking for new members. If they decide they like you, they might let you in just long enough to learn something useful.”
“I…I wouldn’t know how, sir.”
“I need you to do this, Lucas,” Armada said in a soft voice. “I know it seems daunting. But one of those boys, named Julian, has a strange connection to our victim. Which means he either knew Gregorio’s secret, or he was a part of it. At the moment, he is the only one who can help us unlock Gregorio Cordoba’s secret life.”
Lucas wasn’t sure what he felt. He didn’t have any friends. Not like normal people. Ever since he’d been in Armada’s employ, he hadn’t had the chance. So how was he ever supposed to learn how to do it?
The anger gave way to fear. What would students of a colegio be like? He’d never met one. Were they cruel? Were they like a true wolf pack that would tear him limb from limb? Was his life going to be in danger? He’d heard of students dying at university all the time. They were always fighting each other or doing drunken stunts. Would he have to do such things as well? It all seemed so mad.
“I don’t even know where they are, or what they look like…,” Lucas mumbled.
“That’s fine, Lucas. I found out during my walk today that the boys of San Bartolomé are housed in a pupilaje just north of the university building. It is run by a man named Ambrosio, whom I spoke with. He mentioned he was looking for someone to clean the house. Apparently, the last boy he hired was more of a thief than a cleaner. I told him I knew someone who would be perfect.”
“So, I’ll be a cleaner?” There was a strange relief in that for Lucas. At least that part of the job he knew.
“Yes. But it will also give you an excuse to be around when the boys are there. To listen in, introduce yourself, and see if there is a way in for you. You are younger than all of them, so they may not view you as a threat.”
But what if they do? Lucas thought.
“Um…yes, sir.”
“I’ll take you over there in the morning. We won’t mention anything about how you are employed by me. As far as this Ambrosio is concerned, you are just someone I’m vaguely acquainted with. Nothing more. And as long as you do everything he asks of you, I doubt he’ll have any suspicion.”
Lucas nodded that he understood.
“Now, let’s get to bed. I’m sure we’re both exhausted from a long first day.”
Soon, the old man had undressed and slipped into his bed. Lucas did the same and expected to be asleep well before Armada, which was the usual procedure.
But tonight was different. Tonight, the old man was suddenly snoring away. Of course he would, Lucas thought. He’s not the one who had to face the boys of San Bartolomé tomorrow. Armada had always struggled to sleep. Memories from his horrific past as a soldier in His Majesty’s army in Peru usually came in the night to haunt him.
Lately, however, the old man had discovered that if he talked to Lucas about them, it helped to settle his mind enough to rest. Lucas had been happy to hear about these stories, but felt there were still big pieces Armada was leaving out of them. It was a start, though, and meant fewer sleepless nights and less morning grumpiness from Armada.
Tonight, however, would be Lucas’s turn for a sleepless night. Sleep was rare
ly such a problem from him. He didn’t have a past full of nightmares to keep him up. No, tonight it would be the future that would worry his tired mind. What was Armada asking him to do? What would he have to say to entitled rich boys who’d sooner beat him than speak to him? What did he have in common with them? Nothing. Which meant they were going to beat him. There was no doubt in his mind. It was only a matter of time.
And for the rest of the night, Lucas only became more convinced of that.
Chapter Six
“Who?”
“He would have given the name Teo. I was told he was staying here.”
The old woman staring at him through the gap in the door narrowed her eyes.
“There’s no Teo staying here.”
Armada noticed she glanced at his green sleeves before answering. Teo must have paid her off to keep quiet. But her eyes revealed she was having doubts.
Armada fished a handful of maravedís from his pocket and held them up where the woman behind the door could see them. He wriggled his fingers about so the coins made that characteristic tinkling sound as they swirled around his palm.
The landlady’s eyes locked on to them.
“Are you sure? I had it on good authority he was here.”
The small metal flap suddenly shut and the woman’s eyes disappeared from view for a moment. Then there was the sound of an enormous bolt being slid back, and the whole door opened. The old woman was dressed in soiled clothes that wreaked of animal fat. She stood in the doorway, her stocky frame filling it almost entirely and making it clear Armada was not to pass unless she let him.
The woman held out her hand, and Armada put the coins into it. Her hands were dried out, as if they’d been sitting in the sun too long. They were in stark contrast to the oiliness of the rest of her skin that came from working in her humid basement all day.
The landlady, who hadn’t seen a reason to give her name, counted the coins before slipping them into an unseen pocket of her dress.
“He’s not here. You’ll have to come back later.”
“May I see his room, then?”
The woman held out her hand again. Again, Armada filled it with coins. The landlady finally stepped aside.
Armada stepped into the lobby of the dilapidated boarding house to find that it reeked of smoke and decaying animals. In the cramped main room, the landlady had laid out several pig hindquarters, freshly cut, and there was a vat of salt nearby. She was beginning the long process of making them into jamón serrano, the first step of which was rubbing salt into them and allowing them to cure for a week or two. The conditions in the basement of the boarding house were far from ideal for such a process, and Armada guessed these jamónes would be sold long before they were done curing, which was supposed to take a year or two.
Armada felt a large wooden spoon planted against his chest.
“You paid to see the room, not my hams.”
Armada followed the large woman up the stairs to the first door on the right, and she unlocked it.
“Five minutes. That’s all I’m giving you.”
Before Armada could answer, the woman turned and stomped her way back down the stairs to continue working on her curing.
Armada turned his attention to Teo’s room, which didn’t look promising. It was quite small and damp, and one of the shutters on the window was broken, so there was no way to completely block out the light or the noise from the street below. The smell of rotting animal flesh seemed to sweat from the walls and it took Armada a moment to get used to it.
The only furniture in the room was a rickety wood-framed bed, with a soiled mattress made of straw and sheets roughly hewn together. There was nothing else except for a large canvas bag in the corner, which Armada turned his attention to.
On the very top was a bit of paper, wrinkled as if it were hastily shoved inside. There were numbers scrawled on it. It looked roughly like a ledger sheet, designed to keep track of goods that were either coming or going.
The figures were all listed in Portuguese. Sadly, Armada’s skills in the language were not good enough to identify exactly what was being counted, but the numbers were large.
The rest of the bag contained only a change of clothes that smelled badly of dust and sweat. Armada knew that smell. It was similar to his own clothes after making a long journey in the hot sun. There was also a pair of boots that were worn in an odd way. The middle of both the soles had been dug out, from one side to the other, almost to the point of the sole cracking in half.
Armada knew those marks too. He had the same problem with his own boots. Which meant, somewhere around, Teo must have….
Armada poked his head out of the room.
“Excuse me. Do you have a stable?”
The landlady, after collecting yet another payment, took Armada down to her stables, where Teo had left his donkey and cart. The donkey was emaciated. Underfed, overworked, and currently taking a rare opportunity to sleep while standing in the corner of the stable.
Armada looked to the cart. Just in front of the bench where the driver sat was a metal bar that was bolted to the wood frame, where the saddles were tied. It was also where Teo would have planted his boots while he rode, rocking them back and forth, wearing out the middle of the soles.
The back was large enough to carry cargo. On the bottom were round circles, well-worn and surrounded by sprinkles of grey powder that had worked themselves so deeply into the wood they would never come out. The circles were about the size of a barrel, and the powder possibly part of their contents.
All of this meant Teo had come a long way to collect his debt. Possibly all the way from Portugal. It was a dangerous trip, given that Portugal was in the middle of a war of independence with the Spanish crown at the moment. The border plains were full of sentries and scouts and bandits, all of whom were happy to shoot any strangers they came across on sight. The lack of belongings showed Teo had no intention of staying very long. He had only brought a single change of clothes and very little money. And it was very likely this trip had something to do with a delivery he’d recently made in barrels.
Armada found it confusing. Why on earth would Gregorio, a junior university professor, owe money to this man? What had he been buying? And where was it stored?
Armada returned to the boarding house, where he caught the woman in the middle of rubbing the salt into the hams with her bare hands.
“How much do you know about this Teo? Have you seen anything odd?”
The woman held out her hand again.
“No more payments. Answer my questions, or I will arrest you on a petty charge. You will eventually go free, but in the meantime, your boarding house will be left unattended, possibly for months.”
Armada made a point of looking at her hams behind her.
“Completely. Unattended,” he said.
The woman grimaced at him, but she understood. “I don’t know anything. It’s how I keep it around here. The less I know about my boarders, the better.”
“When did he arrive?”
“Last Tuesday night. Late. I almost didn’t rent him a room. I don’t like letting strangers into my house in the middle of the night.”
“Did he say where he was from?”
“No. But his accent is funny.”
“Did it sound Portuguese?”
“I don’t know. It just sounded funny,” the landlady said.
“Where is he now? Did he say?”
“I told you. He didn’t tell me, and I don’t want to know.”
“Can you give him a message for me?”
The landlady hesitated, wondering if it was safe to ask for more money.
Armada held up the coin purse from his pocket. There was only two coins left inside, but it was enough to make noise when he shook it.
The landlady snatched it from him.
“Tell him I have what he’s come for. If he wants it, he’ll have to visit me personally. He is not to contact the Cordoba family again.”
The woman opened the purse and was disappointed that there were only two coins.
“I’m staying at a house near the university. The porter at the main entrance can direct him.”
“Aren’t you afraid he’ll run? I’m going to tell him who you are.”
“He’s come a long way for what is owed to him. I doubt he’ll leave without it. Thank you, Señora.”
Armada bowed his head slightly and made his way out of the boarding house, happy for the slightly fresher air outside and suddenly wondering if there was anywhere nearby to buy some fruit.
Chapter Seven
By the look of it, Lucas would be the first person in history to clean this latrine.
“And make sure you scrub those stones,” Ambrosio said, pointing to the greasy brush he’d just given Lucas. The bristles now lay flat from wear and the handle was black and greasy. It looked in worse condition than the latrine, the stink of which was making Lucas ill.
“I thought I would be cleaning the rooms, sir,” Lucas said.
Ambrosio snorted at this. He was a large, bearded man with a voice that had gone permanently hoarse over the years from so much shouting at the boys in his pupilaje. He had been in the business of accommodating the sons of wealthy aristocrats for decades now and had long ago learned the art of repairing only the parts of the house that mattered to the parents on those rare occasions when they came to visit. Although the latrine was a small stone room covered in filth, the bit of garden just outside the front door was perfectly maintained, with well-watered jasmine trees overlooking various tropical shrubs from the New World that must have been quite expensive. It was pruned and watered every day to keep it looking perfect and give one the sense of the palace that must be inside. And if one only took a few steps inside, that’s exactly what it looked like. Beyond that, however, in the back where the actual rooms were, was a whole other matter.
A Murder Most Literate Page 4