“Where did you serve?” Armada asked softly.
Teo stared back at Armada with wide eyes. Armada knew that look. The worst of the memories from his time were threatening to be unleashed upon his mind. It would mean a long night, and a lot of drinking before his mind was calm again. Teo still wasn’t sure he could trust Armada, who didn’t have the time it would have taken to get there. The case just couldn’t wait that long.
“Cabeza de Diego Gomez.”
“You were stationed in…?”
“It’s a small pueblo half a league to the northwest. There is a road leading between two cattle ranches that leads off the Puerta de Villamayor gate to the city. No one uses it except the ranchers, but it heads straight there.”
Teo had decided. There would be no discussion of the past tonight.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll take my money now.”
“You’ll get it after I return, having confirmed what you’ve told me is true.”
Teo snorted, his face returning to the scowl, an expression that was much more comfortable for him.
“Buenas noches, Teo.”
Armada moved to the door and opened it, gesturing for Teo to leave.
Teo said nothing, but he made his way to the door. As he passed Armada, his scowl disappeared for a brief moment, replaced with a look of understanding. For a moment, Armada could picture what Teo must have looked like all those years ago, when he was still a fresh-faced, innocent young man with little idea of how his time in battle would forever scar him. What had Teo been like so long ago? Did he have dreams of a family? Of friends? Of a normal life?
Armada would not find out tonight, as Teo nodded and walked silently back down the corridor and out of Armada’s view.
Chapter Eleven
Lucas couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“We’ll show those Arzobispo tontos which colegio is best! Their hands will be shaking so bad from fear they won’t be able to vote! Ha!”
All the boys laughed, and Lucas did, too. Although, he wasn’t sure why. He was grateful to Julian for inviting him along to this meeting and wanted to show he could be part of the group. It was striking how easily the other boys had seemed to forget the violence of their first meeting.
Lucas sat behind the group and had intended to sulk about this. He reminded himself he was only there for the case. He wasn’t anything like these boys. Then, Julian introduced him to the other boys and they looked at him differently this time. There was no cruelty in their eyes, only a relaxed daze, one you would get at a party. Lucas knew he wasn’t quite an equal, but it was official that he would be at least tolerated in the room.
The sun had just risen, but already the boys were searching the bottles on the floor, gulping down whatever last dregs they could find, hoping to keep the party going just a bit longer. Most of them had lectures that morning, which none were looking forward to. Plans were made for that night, to meet up at the tavern since one of them had just received a payment of money intended for Ambrosio for rent. The boys thought this was hilarious, for some reason, and had no intention of giving it to the man. Apparently, the fact he was so vile made it acceptable for them to ignore his pleas for the rent money.
That’s when Julian proposed a different plan. He’d heard the boys from the Arzobispo colegio were going to be there later that evening and had suggested they wait to enter the tavern. This way, they could trap the other boys inside and taunt them, or worse. Julian was vague about what might be done to the other boys, but the other boys seemed to understand full well.
Lucas wondered if he should tell someone. There was every chance someone would get hurt in such a heated, confrontational situation.
But he soon realised he wouldn’t. There was an instinct that told Lucas not to. He couldn’t quite articulate it, but it had something to do with the fact the boys were not being cruel to him anymore. In fact, he’d been invited to this clandestine meeting, where they were obviously discussing things they didn’t want anyone else to hear.
Lucas was here. And the boys didn’t seem concerned about whether he could be trusted. They were all older than him by at least a few years. They knew so much more of the world and looked so confident about everything. They were fearless in a way Lucas couldn’t imagine. And they knew how to enjoy themselves.
It was all so different from the life Lucas knew. He wondered just how far away a life like this was from him. Was it even possible he could go to university? He knew he couldn’t afford it now, but if he saved his money, could he someday be one of these boys? It all seemed like such a fantasy. And yet, here he was, about to join in the fun.
There was a man in the corner whom Lucas didn’t recognise. He was older and drifting dutifully around the room, picking up bottles and clothes that had been strewn about, beginning the monumental task of returning the room to some kind of organised state. Julian never gave him a second glance.
This man, Lucas figured, must be Federigo. And the boys had few qualms about speaking their minds around him, even if it meant detailing the violence they were about to commit.
“I’ve heard they’ll be in the tavern about seven this evening,” Julian said. “We’ll wait until they’re all inside, then surprise them. They’ll be like rats caught in a cage. They’ll all scurry about screaming but won’t be able to get out. And that’s when we’ll hit them!”
The boys laughed in approval and Lucas laughed along with them. For a moment, just a moment, he was one of them. For the first time he could remember, he suddenly felt he could be normal. Since his parents were murdered, he’d always felt so far removed from normal life. The life that other boys his age led, one where their parents guided them through school and into marriage or careers, just wasn’t possible for him. So, he always felt as though he were peeking in through the windows of a normal life, without ever being able to go inside.
But here, with these boys now, he felt just normal enough to be like them. And it felt wonderful.
As the sun rose and began to pierce through the windows with a harsh, white-hot light, the boys began to reluctantly climb to their feet and shuffle out of the room. Julian made the decision not to attend his lecture that morning, claiming his hangover as justification enough, and proposed that he and the two other boys who didn’t have class that morning go to a café they knew had a beautiful barmaid they were all lusting after ,who would sometimes let them steal tapas. They hustled out the door, leaving Lucas feeling hesitant.
His cover was that he was supposed to be working as a cleaner for Ambrosio. He had a long list of cleaning duties for that day and had no time for shenanigans like the rest of the boys.
When Julian saw him looking unsure, just a tiny wave was all it took to convince Lucas that nothing was as important as being with these boys, right now.
Lucas joined the Julian and the other two at the café, and for the next few hours, he watched as they attempted to woo the barmaid they had discussed. She was beautiful, Lucas agreed. But she was also far too old, and married, to ever have anything to do with them. She took the attention well enough, although Lucas suspected she’d prefer they hadn’t come at all. The boys trashed their table, drank too much, and stole tapas until the barmaid’s father was annoyed enough to chuck them out, barring them from re-entry and telling them not to return.
The boys just laughed this off, grabbed some bottles of brandy as they called the man names, then ran off toward an open field where some smaller children were playing with a leather ball. The boys confiscated the ball, and much of the afternoon was spent kicking it about while bottles of brandy were drunk. The boys tripped and fell about, laughing the whole time, and Lucas couldn’t remember ever having more fun. There was some kind of magical sheen on the afternoon, where nothing outside of enjoying themselves seemed to hold any value. The heaviness of life that usually weighed on his shoulders began to lighten as the effect of the brandy took hold. Lucas spent a lot of time lying about as Julian and Marco told h
im about the barmaid and what they would do once they got her in their beds. There were many things they described that Lucas had never heard before and couldn’t believe were possible. By the end of the afternoon, he found himself lusting after her as well as they all headed off to the tavern, readying themselves for what was to come.
Now thoroughly drunk and stumbling about, Lucas felt one of the boys put his arm on his shoulders to remain on his feet. Lucas didn’t care where they were going, or how long it took. He was perfectly content for this day to last forever as they stumbled down the street, singing songs and annoying passers-by as they went.
That’s when Julian stopped them. Further down the road, just on the corner, was another group of boys who were standing about.
“It’s them,” Julian whispered. Lucas was surprised at how Julian was able to function so well. He’d outdrank them all the entire afternoon, yet seemed the most sober.
The boys tried to settle themselves, giggling and whispering, but their drunkenness made it impossible.
“Cayate,” Julian whispered. “Let’s get closer, we’ll surprise them.”
But Marco had little desire for such stealth. “Arzobispo bastardos!” he screamed.
Heads whipped around and the other group of boys fanned out, smiling and readying for a fight.
“Kings for Bartolome! Bartolome for Kings!” Julian shouted. The other boys immediately joined the chant, waving their fists in the air and stepping towards the other boys.
Lucas recognised the chant. It was derived from the motto scrawled on to the grand façade of the university which read, in Latin, “Kings for Universities, Universities for Kings.” Apparently, Julian had thought it funny to adapt it to his colegio.
Lucas didn’t care. He would do anything for Julian tonight, no matter the consequences. He threw his fist up in the air and joined the chant.
That’s when one of the Arzobispo boys picked up a stone and threw it at them. This was enough to light the fuse and the two groups raced toward each other. Suddenly, the street exploded into a flurry of shoving and kicking and punching, which Lucas threw himself into.
He felt one of the rival boys grab him by the collar and he swung his fist out, connecting with the other boy’s collarbone and knocking his grip free. Lucas then kicked the boy in the shin before watching him scramble to his feet and run off.
A man shouted from the other end of the street and ran toward them.
“It’s Pedro!” Julian shouted, and suddenly the boys leaped to their feet and started running.
Lucas assumed Pedro must be the city constable, who patrolled the streets to break up student fights and prosecute those responsible. Lucas ran along with the boys but found it hard to catch his breath, as he was laughing too hard. The rush was incredible and something in him knew that as long as he was with these boys, he would be all right, no matter what they got up to.
As they all raced down a narrow alley, startling the pedestrians as they shoved past them, Lucas looked one old woman in the eye.
“Kings for Bartolome! Bartolome for Kings!” he shouted at her as they raced past, and the frightened old woman stepped aside, nearly falling over as she clutched the bread she was carrying to her chest.
Lucas couldn’t remember seeing anything so funny.
Chapter Twelve
Armada entered the jail, exhausted, with a rolled-up bit of paper tucked into his jacket. He had spent the whole morning perfecting the corregidor’s signature, using the one on his letter to the Brotherhood as a model. Then it was off to the ayuntamiento for hours to talk to an endless parade of city officials who needed a healthy dose of complimenting, promising, and bribing for his bit of paper. It wasn’t the money that bothered him. If all he had to do was pay people, that would have been easy. It was all the talking, all the listening to corrupt government administrators talk his ear off about rules and regulations and precedence, trying desperately to justify the corruption they were about to participate in, calling it normal and describing in detail how everyone at the ayuntamiento did such things. It was how things got done. Whether they were right or not, Armada didn’t care. He just hated having to stand there and appear interested in these arrogant men. Yet as long as he appeared receptive to their vile charms, he was invariably trusted and the financial haggling could begin.
But it was over now, and Armada was still trying to quell the echoing of the voices of those fatuous, arrogant old men from his mind. He had more important work to do now.
Armada was escorted back down the long corridor to the sole jail cell in the back. Enrique looked much thinner than last time. Only a few days had passed, but it was obvious the man was not dealing with life in prison very well.
“Buenas tardes, Señor Talavera.”
Enrique didn’t answer. He was seated on the stone floor, his back against the bars and staring out the tiny window that overlooked the square outside. It was early evening, and the sun had barely penetrated the thick sill of the barred window.
Whereas before, Enrique moved about with sharp, quick movements, now he sagged upon the floor, as if he was dissolving into it. A plate of food sat next to him, untouched. An unusual sight for a prisoner dying of hunger. The only sign he was alive was the slow, steady breathing that echoed against the back wall of his cell.
“I have negotiated for your release,” Armada said, holding up the bit of paper from his jacket.
The quick movements suddenly returned as Enrique spun his head round to face Armada. He grabbed the bars and hauled his thin body up onto its feet.
“You’re letting me out?”
“I don’t see a reason to keep you in here.”
Enrique chuckled to himself as tears sprang to his eyes. “I’m innocent. I told you I was innocent! Why didn’t you believe me? Why did you leave me in here for another few days? Why did you say you couldn’t release me? That was cruel!”
“I told you, I wasn’t the one holding you in custody. It took quite a lot of effort to convince the corregidor to agree to this, as well as a lot of other officials. This case is getting quite well-known in the city.”
“All right, so let me out,” Enrique said, standing by the door. The guard went to unlock the cell door, but Armada stopped him.
“I didn’t say you were innocent. I said I don’t see a reason to keep you in here…at least, not until you answer the rest of my questions.”
Armada found a stone block to sit on across from the cell, and made himself as comfortable as he could on it to show Enrique he was in no hurry.
“What? What questions? You don’t still think I killed Gregorio, do you?”
Armada let the question hang in the air for a moment. “No,” he finally said softly. “But you did lie to me. And I want the truth before I let you go.”
“I didn’t lie about anything—”
“I’m going to ask you something I asked you before. I want the truth this time. What happened at the tavern the night before Gregorio Cordoba was killed?”
“I told you.”
“There was no oposición. There were no students. That was all a lie. I spoke to the barman, and he witnessed the entire incident. According to him, it was just you and Gregorio Cordoba having an argument, with Gregorio demanding that you return something you stole.”
Enrique let out a long sigh. The man wasn’t in the habit of hiding what he was thinking. Perhaps he was incapable of it, or had little interest in it. But it made Armada’s job much easier.
“It was…nothing….”
“Oh, I think it was much more than that. And whatever it was, I’m guessing you threatened not to return it unless Gregorio dropped out of the race. So, it must have been something very valuable to him.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know. I won’t know until you tell me.”
Enrique was quiet again, considering his answer. Whatever it was, Armada reckoned, it was something Enrique had been hoping to keep to himself. Perhaps
the money Gregorio had been paid for the shipment of powder he never delivered? It was the only explanation Armada could think of.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Enrique said.
“Is a bit of money worth being left in this prison for weeks, months, perhaps years? Because I am prepared to rip this up, right now,” Armada said, holding up the release order.
A look of despair flashed in Enrique’s eyes.
“How long do you think you can last in here?” Armada said, gesturing toward the untouched food at Enrique’s feet. “I’ll make it so you never come out. I can do that. Which means however much you took, it will never be any use to you. You might as well give it to me now.”
Enrique glanced at the guard, with whom Armada felt there was a lot of animosity, then reached down and took off the tattered remains of his right boot.
Inside was a small key. Enrique snatched it and held it through the bars for Armada to take.
“What is this?”
“I don’t know,” Enrique said. “But whatever it goes to, Gregorio was obsessive about it. I could see his office across the corridor from mine. I knew he always had this key on him. He was always checking his pocket, making sure it was safe. Never left it behind, never let it leave his person, not for a minute. I knew it was quite valuable to him.”
The Domingo Armada Mysteries Box Set Page 60