After a few minutes, Natalia approached from behind, offered him a cigarette, and they both stood watching the sea in silence.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” asked Carlos at last.
“Yes; same modus operandi, same type of victim... It’s him,” Natalia sighed. “We knew that he was going to attack again, and we couldn’t do anything to avoid it... Now that girl is dead and we’re still unable to do anything.”
“Don’t feel discouraged, we’ll get him. We just need to keep investigating,” Carlos tried to console her, but realised that his voice did not sound as confident as he would have liked. “Sooner or later, we’ll find something that’ll lead us to him, or he’ll make a mistake, and we’ll catch him.”
“Of that, I’m certain,” said Natalia, with her gaze lost on the horizon. “The only thing that concerns me is how many more times we’re going to have this conversation before that happens.”
***
At ten o’clock, Natalia called Carlos, saying that she had now finished her work and that she could accompany him to Vanessa’s house. He started up the engine, and began to drive in silence, hoping that she would begin to tell him the results of the post mortem.
“There aren’t many new things,” Natalia replied to the question in his eyes. “This time he only needed one blow to the head; it seems he’s improving. And there are no scratches on the victim’s legs, so he didn’t move her; he met with her in the place he was going to kill her. Bianca’s murder must have taken so much out of him that he decided to become more practical. As of yet, we haven’t found footprints, blood, or semen either... The truth is that he’s either very clever, or has astonishing luck.”
“Yes, I know... The tide erased everything,” interrupted Carlos with a tired voice. “If it’d taken a couple more hours to find her, the sea could have even carried the body away, so it would have gone perfectly for him... And the method he used for killing her?”
“Completely the same. Amputation of both hands; stab wound to the heart; and the removal of the eyeballs. And like the other time, neither the hands nor the eyes were found at the scene of the crime.”
“Our men have already combed the area from the other murder, and they didn’t find any trace of them either. What do you think he does with them?”
“The truth is, I don’t know. There are many things he could do; it depends on the pathology that impels him to commit the crimes... He could burn them, keep them, eat them...” hazarded Natalia.
“Eat them? God, what are you saying...?” he asked, with an expression of disgust.
“It’s only a hypothesis. Personally I’m more inclined towards the idea that he collects them, a kind of trophy.”
“Well he could play football and collect cups. It would give us less work.”
Natalia smiled at him, but there was no joy in that smile, only tiredness:
“I think we’re still stuck. What do we do now?” she asked him.
“Well, maybe we’ll find something in Vanessa’s house.”
Natalia nodded in agreement, and Carlos continued driving. She prayed in silence for that visit to turn out to be productive; to find the slightest indication that would prove that they were pursuing something rather more tangible than a shadow.
Vanessa’s house was a beautiful villa on the edge of the beach, situated in the best area of the city. It was surrounded by a low fence, over which could be seen a well cared for garden, abounding in rose bushes. The house, which had two storeys, was made of white stone, and on the tiled roof, which was blue, stood out two small towers. In spite of the beauty of the place, the grey sky and gentle drizzle that fell over the willows, without relent, gave it a sad appearance. The wrought-iron gate was open, so they entered, and walked along a white stone path flanked by rose bushes up to the front door of the house.
It was opened by a tall and elegant woman, who was dressed in black, and who looked them up and down with magnificent but cold blue eyes:
“The police?”
“Yes: inspector Carlos Vega,” he showed her his badge and she let them in. “We’re sorry to have to bother you at a time like this.”
“It’s no trouble; the best thing will be for this to be done with as soon as possible. Follow me, please,” the woman guided them towards a luxurious living room.
Natalia noticed the decoration inside: leather armchairs, walls covered in fine wooden panels adorned with tapestries, a very large picture window with views of the sea, antiques... It gave her the impression that no little girl would be able to be happy in such an orderly and elegant environment, and with a mother capable of having a gaze like that. The woman invited them to sit down on one of the sofas, whilst she occupied another armchair, separate from them.
“We would appreciate it if you could tell us everything you can remember about your daughter’s friendships, whether she met anyone new recently, whether you noticed any strange behaviour...” Carlos began to ask.
“The only friendships my daughter had were with the other girls at school,” the woman answered in a serene voice. “My daughter virtually never left the house. She was a very reserved girl, and besides, she had to study her piano lessons, so she was very busy. She had a great talent; she would have gone very far.”
The woman’s tone was so neutral that Natalia could not repress a shiver. There she was, seated in her elegant armchair, impeccably dressed and made up, talking about the death of her daughter with the same level of tranquillity she would have in one of her social gatherings.
“Regarding whether she behaved strangely,” she continued, “the truth is that she was going through a rather unusual time... She would sing around the house, she would smile distractedly... A woman realises right away what that means: surely she had become infatuated with some boy,” she directed a knowing look at Natalia, who nodded, encouraging her to continue, forcing a smile that she was very far from feeling.
“But the school she went to was only for girls, wasn’t it?” asked Carlos.
“Yes, so I assumed it would be somebody that one of her female friends knew, and who went to wait for them at the gates at the end of the day. I decided to control the amount of time she spent in getting back from school. She had to be here in quarter of an hour, and she always complied; she didn’t even show signs of anger at having to come back early,” continued the woman, explaining.
“Then, you don’t know where she could have met the boy she talks about in her note?” insisted Carlos.
“I’m really sorry; I’m not going to be able to help you. My daughter never missed a single class; she came home on time, and did not go out on the weekends. One could say that her social contacts, apart from the people at her school, were zero.”
“Thank you very much. That is all for now. Call us if you remember anything. Would we be able to check her room now?” asked Carlos as he stood up.
“Yes, of course, no problem. If you will wait a second, the girl will accompany you. I have a few engagements to attend to.”
She held out her hand to them and left the living room. Carlos and Natalia looked at each other, taken aback.
“If it weren’t for the fact that the culprit is the same man who killed Bianca, that woman would be my first suspect. How can she be so cold?” whispered Carlos.
“I don’t know. I’m sure she would show more emotion if her squash lesson were cancelled,” replied Natalia with contempt.
In that moment, a young woman dressed in a uniform opened the living room door and asked for them to accompany her. They followed her along a wide corridor. The girl opened the door to Vanessa’s bedroom and withdrew, leaving them alone. The room was enormous. There was a large bed, an oak desk with a computer, and many shelves with books and porcelain dolls.
“It’s all so tidy! It doesn’t look like a youngster’s bedroom,” said Carlos.
“You have to bear in mind that she didn’t clean it, but I agree that it doesn’t look like the bedroom of any teenager. It’s as if we’ve
gone back to the eighteenth century,” admitted Natalia.
“At least she has a computer. It seems her mother was not opposed to progress,” on saying this, he stood still in the middle of the room, concentrating. “Bianca also had a computer, right?”
“I think I remember she did. Why?”
“Two girls who didn’t leave their bedrooms, who didn’t mix with anybody... Where would they have met their killer?” Carlos’s eyes were sparkling, excited.
“Online! My God, it’s true! How had we not realised?” Natalia opened the bedroom door. The girl who had led them there was in the corner of the corridor, waiting in case they needed anything. “Could you come in here, please, we have a few questions.”
The girl approached along the corridor and entered the room with her head down.
“How can I help you?”
“How long have you been working in this house?” asked Carlos.
“About three years,” answered the girl.
“Did you have much to do with Vanessa?”
The girl opened her mouth to answer, but did not manage to make any sound. She sat down on the bed, as if she could not bear standing any longer, and began to sob, covering her face with her hands. Natalia sat next to her, putting a hand on her arm, trying to calm her. They waited in silence, until she recovered a little control and looked back at them.
“Yes, a fair amount...” she replied between whimpers. “We would talk every day. I tended to tidy her room while she was in here, so as to be with her a little. She seemed so alone to me... Poor girl... And now this...”
“If you like, we could talk another day...” Carlos suggested to her, in a gentler tone. “I’m sorry; did you tell me your name?”
“Amaia,” she replied, lifting her head. “There’s no need for you to come another day... I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I understand that this is hard for you,” said Carlos.
“No, really... Ask me whatever you need to. The only thing I want is for them to catch the one did that to her and for him to pay for it... Poor girl...” the tears returned, to run down her cheeks, but she managed to control herself.
“Okay. Do you know whether Vanessa went online?”
The girl nodded, whilst she took a handkerchief out of her pocket to dry her face. Judging by the state of it, it looked as though she had already employed it many times that day.
“And do you know what she used it for?”
“Her mother thought that she only used it for study, but once she showed me a program she used to speak with people from all over the world.”
“Do you know if she spoke with anyone in particular?” insisted Carlos. “Did she ever speak to you about any male friend she had met over the Internet?”
Amaia shook her head. Natalia stood up and turned on the computer. They waited a few seconds whilst it booted up.
“Are you finding anything?” asked Carlos.
“Nothing, I don’t even know where to begin looking. I’ve always been terrible with these devices. Technology aversion, you know. And you?” said Natalia, with her gaze fixated on the screen, wondering what to do, knowing that the answers could be there, and cursing herself for not being able to get to them.
“I have no idea; I’m too old to be starting to handle things like that. But Roberto will know about it. Tomorrow we’ll have him examine Vanessa and Bianca’s computers. Now it would be better if we leave, it’s getting late,” he began walking towards the way out, preceded by the girl. “Just one more thing. I’d like to speak with Vanessa’s father; perhaps he took more notice of his daughter.”
“I don’t think you’re going to get anything out of him. The parents are separated, and he lives in New York. He hasn’t come to visit his daughter in two years, I think so as not so see the lady,” a look of contempt flashed in her eyes. It was clear that she did not hold Vanessa’s mother, her boss, in high regard. “In any case, if you want to talk with him, he’ll be arriving tomorrow afternoon to attend the funeral.”
“Thank you for everything, Amaia. We will do everything in our power to catch the culprit, you can be certain,” said Carlos, holding out his card to her. “If you remember anything, don’t hesitate to call me. And thank you again for answering our questions.”
She nodded as she took the card, and closed the door after them. They began walking towards the car in silence.
“Poor girl,” said Carlos, at last. “It turns my stomach to think that it’s the mother who everyone’ll be giving their sympathy to at the funeral.”
“Well, just because the mother doesn’t show her feelings doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have any,” said Natalia, trying to convince herself. “I’m sure that inside she’s feeling awful.”
“Please, Natalia... I’ve seen rocks with more feeling. Her daughter doesn’t mean shit to her. If she had paid her more attention, perhaps Vanessa would still be alive.”
“We can’t put the blame on her. She might well be a very bad mother, but she wasn’t the one who drove a knife into her heart,” Natalia corrected him.
Carlos picked up his pace, separating himself from her. Natalia followed him. She understood that he would be furious, but it would be useless blaming Vanessa’s mother for what had happened. She had also felt uncomfortable; she would have loved to have shouted in her face everything she was thinking, but they would not manage to catch the killer that way, or avoid more deaths. And Carlos ought to understand that more than anyone, and he ought to behave more professionally.
“Would you mind telling me what’s up with you now?” she asked him, as she opened her door. “If you think it’s her fault so much, perhaps we ought to go back and arrest her and close the case.”
“Where does that bullshit come from?” asked Carlos, angry.
“From the fact that you mustn’t forget that this is a job. You shouldn’t take it as something personal,” she replied.
“Well obviously it is something personal... It might be that her mother doesn’t care about her, but it hurts me not having been able to save her. It hurts me with every one of Amaia’s tears, and the desperation of Bianca’s parents, and the sadness of their classmates...” Carlos sat behind the steering wheel, with his gaze lost in infinity. “And if you can’t understand that, I don’t think you’re going to be able to help me with this.”
Natalia did not answer; she limited herself to turning her head and looking out through the window. Carlos pulled away and drove towards the motorway. She felt lost. How was she supposed to feel? Continuing to work on this case was costing her price she had never been told she would have to pay and, nevertheless, she fought to continue forward, to do her job well. What was he expecting her to do? Get down in the dumps? Allow herself to fall into a depression so profound that it would prevent her from carrying on forward? She understood it better than he would have imagined. She had only said that to him in order to calm him down, to try to protect him from all of that pain, but she had only managed to get him to direct his rage towards her. In that moment, Carlos took one hand off the steering wheel to place it on top of hers and, when she lifted her head, he smiled understandingly.
“I was with you in Bianca’s room, do you remember? I know what you felt there, because I felt the same thing. And I know that you also feel badly for Vanessa’s death. Why are you asking me to be numb if it’s also hurting you?”
She nodded, admitting that he was right, and went back to directing her gaze towards the window. Carlos let go of her hand to carry on driving, and Natalia took advantage of that moment to surreptitiously dry the tears that were escaping from her eyes.
CHAPTER FOUR
Her car entered into the streets of Bilbao, heading for the police headquarters. In a few short minutes she found herself immersed in a bottleneck, surrounded by the din of hundreds of cars. The queue that Natalia was in had not moved a centimetre in the last few minutes, putting her patience to the test. She lit a cigarette and looked out of the window, trying to distract her
self. She was nervous; the killer could be closer than ever. If they were able to find something on the computers that would lead them to him... This nightmare would be on the verge of ending but, without knowing why, she was still not feeling good. A strong sense of worry had taken root in her chest, making her fear that the nightmare was not going to end that easily.
After spending a short while looking at the tall grey buildings, she decided to turn on the radio to entertain herself for a little. Without realising it, she ended up humming along to a stupid little song that was currently popular, as she watched the slow advancement of the cars around her. In that moment, the voice of the female presenter began to relay the local news.
‘According to the latest news, light is beginning to be shed on the mysterious murders of teenagers Bianca Rodríguez and Vanessa Lozano, whose lifeless bodies appeared over the course of the last few weeks. Despite not having been able to find confirmation from official sources, the latest rumours note that police arrested a suspect last night who will be currently being interrogated. We will keep you informed of any progress in the investigation of these crimes...’
The young woman went on to talk about a new rise in fuel prices, but Natalia was no longer listening to her. A detained suspect? It was impossible... Carlos would have told her. She opened her bag and took out her mobile phone whilst she cursed him. How could he have betrayed her like that? And, the worst thing of all, how had she been so stupid to believe that he would remember her once the case was solved?
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