Her knees were shaking. “Where’s Abuela?”
Maria was puzzled. “She’s not with you?”
“I left her at the hotel.”
“Then get back. Go, go now. Juan gave me a microchip; he told me to put it in your bag. Put it here. He’ll think I’ve complied. Go.”
*
Ben monitored proceedings discreetly whilst pretending to read the menu. Since Maria’s departure, Cortés’s gaze had remained fixed on the wider surroundings, whereas his mobile phone was pointed casually in the direction of the bank. He had activated the camera setting, allowing him to monitor Valeria’s every movement without appearing suspicious. Clever, Ben thought.
Perhaps a little too clever.
Danny had moved to the seat next to Ben, again on Cortés’s orders. It stood to reason that he would be the first person Valeria would recognise, especially if Maria betrayed them.
Ben sensed that was more than likely.
He glanced to his left, without moving his head, continuing to use the menu to conceal his features. After less than a minute of talking, he saw the sisters part ways, Valeria heading west, the way she had originally come.
She had been heading east before seeing Maria.
Maria lingered outside the bank. For a moment, Ben thought she was going to follow her sister, before she stopped after a few paces, seemingly paralysed with fear. Even from a distance, it was obvious her legs had turned to jelly; her hands were shaking, as though she were standing in a pool of ice.
Valeria was still to look back. Leaving her sister, she strode away confidently, her handbag locked tightly below her right arm. Looking more closely, Ben noticed that she wore trainers, which blended well with her shorts, but less well with her hair and sunglasses. He sensed the choice was more practical than for appearances. She increased her pace as she navigated her way through the oncoming crowd, approaching a crossroads. He saw her turn right and disappear from sight.
The last thing he saw was her breaking into a jog.
*
Eduardo received a text message from Juan at the same time he noticed Maria begin her walk across the street. The woman had great legs, great ass, great body.
He never realised his former aunt had been such a goddess.
As she crossed the street, he saw her embrace the woman he had followed from Medellín – the slimy eel, his uncle called her. Though he had never met his aunt’s sister, he noticed a family resemblance immediately; despite the large sunglasses, their skin tone and posture was identical. Maria was nervous, perhaps close to tears. Deciphering the other’s reaction was all the more difficult.
Stunned, he assumed.
He took the final sip of his coffee and wiped the froth away from his mouth. He left three euros on the table and crossed the road, giving himself the perfect head start. He followed Calle Regalado west to the point where it joined Calle de Teresa Gil and continued north, glancing quickly towards the bank.
The woman with the sunglasses was heading in his direction, he guessed back to her hotel.
He knew the worst thing he could do would be to alarm her.
38
Ben jumped from his seat as though he had heard the starter’s pistol. As he made it to the road, he heard an echo of metal crashing against the floor, followed by a male voice calling his name. In the background he could also hear the forceful tones of a woman speaking loudly and rapidly in Spanish.
He quickly realised that Juan was shouting at him in English while also arguing with the waitress in Spanish.
Ignoring them both, Ben crossed the road, dodging passing citizens as he passed the bank. Maria was still standing in the same place, gazing longingly at the crossroads.
Not for the first time, tears were ruining her make-up.
“What did you say to her?” Ben grabbed her by the shoulders and looked deeply into her eyes. He feared from her face she was on the verge of a meltdown.
“What did you say?”
“I said you’re an arrogant pig!”
Ben released her and hurried west along Calle Regalado to the crossroads where he had seen Valeria turn right, north. He found himself on a pedestrian side road lined with everything from mobile phone shops to clothes’ retailers. Crowds of people were heading in and out of a bar and restaurant with a black veranda-style entrance that encroached into the walkway.
He passed it and scanned the crowds in front of him.
He saw her turn left on reaching the end.
*
Eduardo stopped once he reached the bar and passed a few seconds pretending to examine the menu before walking north at a gentle pace to where Calle de Teresa Gil joined the famous Plaza de Fuente Dorada. From the sound of rapid footsteps, he was aware that the woman was fast approaching.
He continued left where the second storeys of local shops formed an arcade over the pavement and quietly observed her progress as she hurried across the plaza.
*
Calle de Teresa Gil ended at a fountain located on the corner of the plaza. Though officially a square, its shape was triangular and dated back to the 1200s. Ben had learned from googling it at the café that originally a statue of the Greek god Apollo had been placed at the heart of the water source, only to be later dismantled and replaced with a column and four figurines used to depict the four seasons. He had also discovered that the sidewalks and arcades all had different names, each connected to stories or people from the city’s past.
He didn’t recognise any of the names.
Heading left, he saw Valeria running through the right arcade on Calle Ferrari, attempting to use the long line of columns for cover. An equally long line of trees dotted the middle of the street, further restricting his view.
Ben picked up his pace, doing his best to supress the intense throbbing sensation that was fast building throughout his injured thigh. He ignored the surprised glances of people enjoying a sit-down on the various benches and took a shortcut through a gap in the trees to the right side of the street.
Unexpectedly, he had overtaken Valeria. She turned away sharply the moment she saw him and started running as hard as she could, barely keeping her footing as she did so. Ben caught her up as she sought to weave her way through the arcade, and pressed her hard against one of the pillars.
“Why the hell did you leave me in the mine?” He grabbed her tightly below her armpits and raised her off the ground. “Why did you leave me?”
“Help me,” she screamed feebly.
Angry, Ben placed his hand to her mouth, successfully quelling her latest scream. As he relinquished his grip with his right hand, he threw away her sunglasses, the frames shattering on hitting the stone.
He could tell from her eyes she was terrified.
“What have you done with Chris?”
“Ben, please.”
“What have you done with Chris? Why was he helping you?”
“Please, Ben, you’re hurting me!”
“Answer my question!”
Ben tightened his grip on her shoulders and threw her firmly against the pillar, causing the ancient stone to graze against the naked skin on her back. Instinctively, she kicked out, catching him hard in his left thigh.
Wounded, he released her and keeled over.
*
Eduardo had both heard and seen the disturbance. He was aware that the American had tracked Valeria, successfully blocking her route west and forcing her to backtrack.
He made his way unseen to the end of the north arcade and watched from a secluded position as Ben closed in on Valeria. Eduardo smiled with quiet satisfaction, recognising that just a small squeeze of her throat could bring her life to an end, but equally aware that it was a line that Ben would never cross.
Especially in public.
The American’s voice was getting louder, as were the woman’s squeals as he raised her light body against the pillar. He shouted at her for several seconds before making the mistake of lowering her.
Eduardo groaned
as he watched Ben fall to his knees, clearly wounded.
Then turned away as his mobile phone began to ring.
*
Maria was still standing in the same place. Cortés walked up behind her and grabbed her hand as she attempted to signal a taxi.
“What did I tell you about disobeying me?” he asked as he pushed her firmly away from the kerb.
She looked at him, her frightened eyes suddenly burning with a fire-like intensity. “My sister is no fool. She knew you were still alive. She knew it was only a matter of time before your paths crossed again.”
Cortés tightened his grip on her arms. After three years of marriage he didn’t need telling that the woman was a professional liar.
“Do not play games with me, Maria. Your sister has already made a great mistake, but I fear for you both a much greater one is yet to come. The law does not protect those guilty of theft or treason.”
“Then I hope you will enjoy your time in prison.”
Cortés lessened his grip and smiled at her, wary of attracting attention. He took his mobile phone from his pocket and called Eduardo.
His nephew answered, “Hola?”
“Where are you?”
The signal was weak. “Teresa Gil. The American has just been kicked in the thigh. Now he’s chasing her.”
Cortés swore under his breath. “Make sure he doesn’t cause a scene. Remember what we have discussed. After that, you may let her go.”
He disconnected the call and returned his gaze to Maria. She looked back at him, confused. “What did you mean, let her go?”
Cortés gripped her arm tightly and escorted her back towards the café, where Danny was now sitting alone. Maria forced him to a stop on reaching the kerb and waved her finger in Juan’s face, as though a mother disciplining a naughty child.
“Do not play dumb with me, Juan Cortés. You are not going to let my sister go.”
Juan sat down and smiled at her smugly. “Actually, that is exactly what I intend to do.”
*
Ben felt a sharp piercing pain in his left leg when Valeria’s foot made contact with it. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath as she sped away in the opposite direction. He saw her follow the arcade east until it terminated before crossing the road up ahead, paying minimal attention to the oncoming traffic.
Ben struggled to his feet. He ignored the passing glances of disturbed shoppers and followed the same arcade Valeria had just run through until he reached the centre of the square. His breath partially recovered, he paused beside the kerb and crossed the road as the lights changed to amber.
He saw her again as she prepared to take a left on Calle Bajada de la Libertad.
And lost her as she took the corner.
He ran through the latest arcade and turned left on reaching its end. Seconds later, he saw her again, about twenty metres in front of him, darting in and out of passing citizens and successfully avoiding traffic heading down the one-way system. The road descended in a gentle arc from right to left, its traditional buildings occupied by everything from galleries to newsagents. Though the classical architecture had largely given way to more modern constructions, the ground below him was laid out in mosaic tiling.
Ben sensed Valeria was tiring, the weight of her handbag at last beginning to weigh her down. Even with his injury, he knew he was capable of catching her, so long as he kept her in sight. He felt fresher than he had. It reminded him of his varsity days, the roar of Dartmouth’s passionate lacrosse fans cheering him on as he battled his way across the greenery.
Slowly he was catching her. Ahead he saw her first consider entering one of the shops and then continue straight on before faking entry to another one and turning left along a one-way street.
As he reached the entrance to the street, Ben could see her running awkwardly on a cobbled surface.
*
Valeria felt as though her lungs were about to burst. Her eyes were watering from sprinting into the blanket of hot air, her vision blurry without the protection of her oversized shades. Her hair moved rapidly from side to side, restricting her vision. Sweat poured down from her face, causing her blouse to stick uncomfortably to her body.
She regretted her choice of route immediately. Running flat-footed on the heavy cobbled stones felt like a series of electric shocks on the soles of her feet, causing a thunderous jolt to penetrate up through her bones. Her calves were getting tight. Her quads burned.
She could feel the lactic acid building up in her muscles.
She knew she couldn’t stop. In the distance, she could hear the re-emergence of footsteps behind her, the uneven surface apparently causing Ben little anguish. She wanted to look, but knew she daren’t take her eyes off the road.
Her only chance was to go on.
*
The narrow street ended at the Plaza de Cantarranillas, another square, though more modern and private. The buildings were a hotchpotch of colour, more than half of which were concealed by scaffolding. Unlike the nearby shopping areas, the façades were run-down, with several doorways and nearby recycling bins littered by graffiti.
The square ended with more buildings, which gave her a choice of left or right. She chose left and immediately skidded to a halt.
She had reached a dead end, guarded by tall metal gating, locked and clearly too high to jump over.
She turned and saw a strong arm flash across her stomach, knocking her off balance. The next thing she knew she was airborne again, her legs kicking wildly as she attempted to get free.
*
Ben rammed her hard into the gate.
“What have you done with Chris?” Ben bellowed in her ear as he tightened his grip round her chest. He had already made the mistake of relinquishing his control too easily; the last thing he was prepared to do was make the same mistake twice.
He ducked instinctively as he saw phlegm flash across his eye line, narrowly missing his face.
“Why are you doing this?” He pinned her against the wall. With his grip secure, she stopped wriggling, surrendering to the immovable force that was crushing her arms. “Why did you leave me?”
“Ben, you’re hurting . . .”
“Answer my question.”
Valeria kicked out, again catching him close to his wound, causing sharp pain through his thigh; Ben loosened his grip, releasing her right hand.
He felt a fist strike him hard across the left side of his face, then another from the right. As he lost his balance, he let go, holding out his arms to cushion his fall.
Valeria rushed away, failing to make it more than a few metres. Ben caught the strap of her handbag as he reached out with his right hand. His superior strength dragged her to a violent halt; she stumbled, barely keeping her feet. Their gazes met as they both pulled, Valeria’s face straining as she struggled to hold on to her new possessions.
The bag rolled over; the flap opened. Several items fell out, bouncing against the hard surface. Ben looked at them, confused.
All were books, hardback and clearly historic.
Valeria instantly panicked. Diving to the ground, she reached for the nearest of the books and dragged it into her handbag, closing the flap. Ben caught her eye as she reached for the nearest of the others, their fingers meeting momentarily before he successfully wrested it from her grasp. He glanced at the cover.
The biography of Walter Raleigh.
He stared at her crouched on the ground. Her hand was shaking, her lips trembling. Ben was equally lost for words, his anger numbing his vocal cords. He saw her reach for another before pausing.
She turned and sprinted in the opposite direction.
Ben reached for the second of the books, recognising it as the translation of the Latin chronicle. The next two had also once belonged to TF, the books that had disappeared from Godolphin.
The books she had stolen.
He gathered them up in his arms and struggled to his feet. The pain in his thigh was intense now; blood oozed beneath the fabri
c of his jeans.
He knew chasing her would be almost impossible.
Valeria had headed right on to Calle Ramón Núñez, disappearing as the wall curved to the right. On reaching it, Ben espied a similarly depressing sight of brightly coloured run-down buildings defaced by graffiti. On reaching the end, he found himself on another narrow one-way street, crowded with pedestrians but largely devoid of cars.
Looking both ways, he saw no sign of her.
Stopping, he consolidated his hold on his books and continued to look around at his surroundings. A car was turning right at the top of the road; he walked as quickly as his leg would allow before stopping again, taking in the sights.
The road zigzagged from right to left, lined by shops on both sides. A large medieval church loomed above him, its grand façade capped off by two iconic bellcotes, one on each side of a large stone cross.
Adjacent to the church, a walkway was jammed with people, whereas to the left Calle Conde Ansúrez ran west, its grand buildings catching the direct rays of the morning sun. A strong whiff of coffee and pastries accompanied the warm tinge of heat on concrete.
Instinct guided him left. He inspected doorways as he passed, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Further along, he thought he saw a woman with brown hair entering one of the eateries, but whoever she was, she was dressed solely in black. Grimacing, he searched in both directions, hoping she was merely hiding.
His phone rang.
Cortés.
“Hello?”
“Come to the Plaza Mayor immediately.”
Ben didn’t reply. He scanned the road again as if on autopilot, finishing with the windows. He remembered their attempts to locate Maria the day before.
Maybe she had taken refuge higher up.
“Ben?”
The shout dragged him back to reality. “I just lost her.”
The Cortés Trilogy: Enigma Revenge Revelation Page 55