by PJ Skinner
‘Hello, gringa. Sorry I’m late. Did you wait long? How was your trip?’
‘Hello, Gloria. It’s lovely to see you. How are you?’
‘Oh, I’m fine. The usual.’
‘Thank you for picking me up. What kept you anyway? I’ve been here over an hour.’
‘Ah, but it is not my fault, Sam. The government changed the clocks and I keep forgetting what time it is.’
This piece of Glorified logic made Sam feel dizzy. She hugged her friend again and got into the car, holding on to her seat as it shot off into the traffic. Some things never change and Gloria still drove like Fangio. It started to rain again and the large volcano on the western side of the city poked out of a blanket of bright green conifers that draped over its sides like a cashmere shawl. The black rocks near the summit were free of snow for once and stood out against the clouds. Its brooding presence made Sam feel a sense of foreboding. She shook herself and turned to chat to Gloria.
***
‘She should have arrived by now,’ said Sam’s father looking at his watch.
‘I hope she rings us soon,’ replied her mother.
‘Give her a chance, she’s only just landed.’
‘You know how nervous I get. It’s a long way to Sierramar.’
‘Yes, but she’s got Gloria to look after her. What can go wrong?’
They both laughed.
‘Gloria is wonderful. Do you realise that she is Sam’s first female friend? Most girls don’t appreciate Sam’s tomboy traits. I am so glad she has a confidant. Especially now she is back with Simon.’
‘Hmmm, the slimy one. It’s a pity she can’t seem to give up on that relationship. I think it’s toxic for both of them.’
‘Anyway, a break might make her see the light.’
‘It will be a welcome one for her. That feasibility study she reviewed was turgid in the extreme. I had to read some of it and I fell asleep twice.’
‘I’ll have to put up with the catty remarks about her lifestyle at the golf club again.’
‘You ignore them, sweetheart. Our Sam is brave and adventurous and we should be proud of her.’
‘Oh, I’m proud. I hate pretending to agree with them, not that I have any choice if I want to remain a member.’
‘They pick on her because she’s different. Hannah isn’t married but they don’t make comments about her. That reminds me. We haven’t spoken to her in ages. Do you want to ring her, or shall I?’
***
Simon was not impressed at being left alone again. He stalked her flat, sniffing the pyjamas that Sam had dropped on the floor when she left to go to the airport. He knew that she would be furious if she found out that he had let himself in while she was out of the country. This was her territory, filled with balsa wood painted parrots and rugs with weird Incan insect and animal designs. It smelt of cooking and coffee. She had moved in shortly after coming back from Sierramar and filled it with furniture from junk shops and cast offs from relatives. There were coloured throws and big velvet curtains salvaged from a theatre. The big metal radiators were cold and he shivered. Why couldn’t Sam be the same as other girls? He didn’t understand why she had to go waltzing off to Sierramar to look for a drunk with his nutty girlfriend. Why wasn’t he enough for her? Lots of other women were interested. He could have anyone he wanted.
And that was the irritating thing. He wanted Sam more than other women. He missed her physical presence, the way she could pick up large pieces of luggage and chuck them on the bed without any visible strain. The way she fiddled with her fine hair and failed to put it in a neat bun no matter how much she tried. The way her shoulders looked when she came out of the shower in a towel. He missed her cooking and her random pronouncements on government policy. She was different and he hated how much he wanted her.
After wandering around opening drawers and poking about in her stuff, he decided to pay a visit to her sister Hannah in the hope that she might offer some sympathy and a plan to get Sam to come back. Hannah lived two streets away in a flat on the ground floor of a similar house. She opened the door almost immediately when he knocked and seemed to be about to say something until she realised who it was.
‘Simon? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?’
She went bright red with embarrassment and confusion. He was struck dumb by the uncanny resemblance to Sam. Hannah had the same light brown hair but wore it longer, and it fell on her shoulders in soft curls so different Sam’s curtain of ruler straight locks. She had a similar face and body to her sibling but they, too, had softer edges which camouflaged the harder edge to her character. He felt out of his depth.
‘Um, are you busy? I wanted to talk about Sam.’
‘Jesus, do you think I’m your agony aunt? I’ve got my own problems right now. I don’t see what this has to do with me.’
‘Please, I want your advice. No one knows her the way you do.’
‘I can’t talk now. You’ll have to come back another time.’
‘But I can come back?’
‘If you must. Now go away.’
CHAPTER 6
August 1988
Alfredo was eating breakfast when he heard the news. He had finished his second cup of coffee and was contemplating a third, when the telephone rang.
‘Alfredo, is that you?’
Gloria’s voice. Upset.
‘Yes, it’s me sugar plum, is anything the matter? You sound a bit strange.’
‘I have some terrible news for you.’
‘Are you ill? Do you want me to come over?’
‘No, sweetheart, I’m fine. It’s Ramon.’
‘Ramon? I saw him yesterday. He was in fine form.’
‘His sister rang me to tell me that there was a fire at his house last night, and he is missing, presumed dead.’
‘A fire? This can’t be a coincidence.’
‘What makes you say that? I know it’s horrible, but it can’t have anything to do with your visit.’
‘I’ll explain later. We must go and find out how it happened. Can you drive me to his house please?’
‘Of course, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.’
Alfredo hung up the phone and sat on a chair, his head in his hands. He had palpitations and felt quite ill with dread. There was no way this was an accident. Was it related to his visit? Had he caused the death of his friend? It didn’t bear thinking about.
By the time Gloria pulled up to the house, Alfredo was already outside pacing the pavement in the bright sunlight, his eyes screwed up in concentration. He got into the car without greeting her.
‘Seatbelt.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘He may be alive. They could have made a mistake.’
‘Maybe.’
Conversation dried up and Gloria drove with more caution than usual in case there were any fire engines coming back up the winding road. By the time that they pulled up to the little farmhouse, it had burnt to the ground and all that remained were the blackened stones and some stumps of hardwood furniture. There were piles of smouldering books with wet leather covers on the gravel outside the front door. The firemen were still watering the remains of the structure and the police were hanging around searching among the ruins in a way that suggested they did not expect to find anything. Gloria and Alfredo got out of the car and approached them.
‘Who’s in charge here?’ said Gloria.
‘Me,’ said one of the policemen.
‘Do we know what happened?’
‘Well, madam, the house burned down.’ He smirked.
‘I’ll thank you to have a bit more respect officer. I am Gloria Sanchez, daughter of Hernan, and the house belonged to a friend of mine.’
‘Sorry, madam. I didn’t recognise you. I apologise.’
‘What can you tell me about the fire?’
‘It looks like arson. We found some petrol cans at the back of the house that were missing their tops. Someone set fire to the woodpile under the eaves
and it spread to the roof. The amount of paper in the house didn’t help much. It went up like a torch.’
‘And Mr Vega?’
‘We found two corpses in the house. One in the maid’s bedroom and one in the principle bedroom, both still in bed. They must have suffocated in their sleep.’
‘Are you sure it’s the owner of the house?’
‘We can’t be sure yet. The body was burnt to a cinder.’
‘So, what’s the best way to get the latest information on the case?’
‘My name is Inspector Torres. I work in the police station on the road to the valley. Here is my card, or drop in any time and I’ll fill you in.’
‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’
She turned to offer words of encouragement to Alfredo but he had gone back to the car where he sat motionless in the front seat staring at the remains of the house.
‘These people are maniacs,’ he remarked as she got in.
‘I’m so sorry. I know that you were friends a long time.’
‘Take me home, please.’
***
Alfredo sat in his armchair and picked at the stitching in one arm where it was coming undone. With his other hand, he swirled the ice cube around in his glass. Some cold whisky splashed on his hand, waking him from his reverie. He was afraid. Even though the inferno had been reported as an accident on state television channels, Inspector Torres had said it was arson. The death of Ramon was no coincidence. Had anyone been watching the house when he visited his friend? Did they know he had the document? Was he next? He tried to be rational. He didn’t believe that someone would kill to stop the information about the Nazi unit in Sierramar from getting out. But what if they would? He didn’t need to finish reading it to know how incendiary its contents were. The document would have to be hidden somewhere no one would dare look for it and he knew just the place. He put on his coat and hurried down the street, looking over his shoulder the time.
He went into a local shop and asked the owner if he could use the photocopier. Then he made himself a copy of the whole document so that Saul could see it when he arrived in Calderon. It took him almost an hour but he didn’t worry about being disturbed because the document was in English and the shopkeeper was kept busy by a constant stream of customers buying cigarettes and cans of cola. He returned to his house and collected his car. He stuffed the original document into his waistcoat and put the copy into the pocket at the back of the driver’s seat amongst a load of old maps and leaflets, reasoning that no one would look there as it was too obvious. Then he drove to Gloria’s apartment building.
Gloria opened the door and smiled.
‘Hallo, I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening. Are you feeling okay? I know you were fond of Ramon. This must be a nasty shock for you.’
‘Still a bit stunned, to tell you the truth, I don’t know what to think or feel. I suppose it hasn’t sunk in yet.’
‘So how can I help?’
‘I need a favour.’
‘Come on in and sit down, honey, and I will see what I can do.’
Alfredo followed her down the corridor to the sitting room and sat stiffly on the edge of the seat of an armchair as if he might suddenly leave again. Gloria sat on the arm of the same chair and ran her fingers through his hair.
‘What’s up?’ she asked
‘I’m afraid that the fire at his house may be related to my visit to see Ramon yesterday.’
‘I thought it was odd that you went to see him. You told me ages ago that you two weren’t talking.’
‘We weren’t, but when I went to the National Archive to look for information, I discovered that Ramon had borrowed some literature related to the arrival of Germans to Sierramar. I couldn’t believe the coincidence. Besides, it was the only lead I had, so I decided I’d better swallow my pride and go and see him. I went to his house and apologised for being an idiot. Luckily, he was happy to see me.’
‘That was brave. He’s quite a hot-head. I’m surprised he didn’t punch your lights out.’
‘We’ve known each other a long time. I guess he missed me. Anyway, it turns out that he has been doing a detailed study about the relationship between the Nazis and the Sierramar government.’
‘Now that is a coincidence!’
‘I know. I could hardly believe it. He had planned to take his report to Miami to publish before someone could stop him. He was worried that someone was watching him and that the report might be stolen, so I took it for safekeeping. Ramon was going to collect it from me on his way to Miami.’
‘You have it now? Isn’t that dangerous?’
‘Yes, I’ve still got it. Raul told me to be careful because there are people in Calderon who want to destroy any evidence of the collaboration with Nazi Germany.’
‘So how can I help?’
‘I think he was killed for what he knew. I need to hide the research before anyone realises that I have it.’
‘Jesus, Alfredo! That’s all I need. I can’t hide it here. It’s the first place that people will look.’
‘Oh no, I don’t want you to hide it in your flat. I thought you might put it in your father’s house. No one would think of looking there.’
‘My father’s house? Are you mad?’
Alfredo had decided that she didn’t need to know about her father’s involvement with the fugitives. It was not for him to tell her something so personal. Hernan Sanchez would have to do it in his own time when this came out, which he was sure was the inevitable result. He was economical with the truth.
‘It’s not as mad as it sounds. He’s friends with any number of these collaborators. They’d never suspect him of harbouring the document, and he won’t know that he has it. You have to hide it in his house without telling him.’
Gloria went over to the sideboard and poured herself a large whisky. She had her back to him and he waited for her to turn around.
‘Want one?’
‘Yes, please.’
She poured another whisky, putting the cubes of ice in his glass one by one. He felt like the world had gone into slow motion. ‘So where is the document?’
‘I thought you’d never ask. I’ve kept a copy to study but the original is here in my waistcoat.’
‘Hmm.’ She fixed him with a stare and raised her eyebrow in a way that made him instantly erect. ‘Maybe I’d better get it out then?’
‘Be careful. I’m armed and dangerous.’
‘Oh, I hope so. I’m going to make you pay for this.’
***
Gloria’s father was thrilled when she invited herself to lunch the next day.
‘Hello, Papi, it’s me.’
Gloria breezed in trailing cigarette smoke and gave her father a big hug.
‘Hello, darling. You look lovely as always.’
‘Thank you. So do you.’
Ritual greeting over, they both sat at the dining table while Hernan’s maid served them a bowl of soup. They ate in silence. Gloria wondered how to hide the document without her father spotting her.
‘I’ve got to go to the bathroom, Papi. I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Okay, sweetheart, I’ll get Rosa to serve the main course.’
Instead of heading for the guest bathroom, Gloria flounced off towards the ensuite bathroom taking her bag with her. Her high heels clatter into the bathroom and out of the other side into his bedroom.
Her mother’s chest of drawers was still on her side of the bed. Gloria knew that her father almost never opened it unless he was feeling nostalgic and trying to sniff the clothes for a residual smell of his wife. She opened one of the heavy drawers which slid smoothly out revealing her mother’s expensive undergarments still waiting for their long dead owner to put on again. She moved the clothes aside, took the document out of her bag and slipped it between the silken folds of an ivory petticoat, taking care to disguise its shape by putting a chemise on top. Admiring her handiwork, she stepped back feeling quite emotional. ‘Gracias, Mam
i,’ she said and went back to join her father at lunch. She had a habit of wearing her mother’s jewellery and then returning it to the box that her father was familiar with so he wouldn’t think anything of her going into his room. Besides, she never took it for good in case her mother turned up one day and needed it. He loved her for that, amongst other things.
‘Okay, darling? Let’s eat then.’
***
‘It’s done. The house has been burnt to the ground.’
‘Is he dead?’
‘I watched while it burned and no one came out. The police found two bodies, one in the maid’s room, one in the main bedroom.’
‘But did they identify him yet?’
‘They won’t tell me, but who else would it be?’
‘You’ve done well. I need you to make sure that Dr Vargas hasn’t got a copy of the report.’
‘Okay. I’ll check the house next time he leaves.’
‘Be careful. Don’t let anyone see you.’
CHAPTER 7
September 1988
Calderon was relatively free of traffic so they made good time to Gloria’s flat, stopping on the way to buy some fresh bread in the baker. Gloria screeched to a halt in the basement garage and jumped out of the car. Sam, thanking the fates that she had survived another hair-raising trip in the Gloria-mobil, dragged her bags out of the boot and they took one each to the elevator, straining to lift them off the ground.
‘Did you bring your furniture with you?’ asked Gloria.
‘No, but I did bring jars of mint jelly and chutney for anyone who carries my bag.’
‘Suitcases should have wheels.’
‘I’ve often thought that. Someone might invent one. Let’s have a cup of tea and you can tell me about Alfredo.’
Soon they were sitting in the kitchen sipping cups of scalding hot tea.
‘How have you been?’ asked Sam, ‘and how’s your father?’
‘Oh, we’re both fine. Trying to get along as usual. And you?’
‘Same here. We’re well. No dramas.’
‘That’s good. How about Simon?’