The Domingo Armada Mysteries Box Set

by Jefferson Bonar

  “What is it, Lucas?”

  “The path…it looks the same…,” Lucas mumbled as he looked at the path they were standing on, back to the path the old woman had taken, then back to the bridge.

  Lucas then hobbled off after the old woman at a brisk pace. They followed the path along the rise until they were standing at the entrance to a small lavadero where two other elderly women were dunking and scraping their clothes in the small pool of washing water supplied by the nearby river.

  “That’s it, sir. It’s the only way.”

  “Lucas, you’re going to have to explain.”

  “If the murder was opportunistic, sir, then how did the killer know it was Aurelio that was crossing the bridge at that time of the night? How could they have even seen him? It would have been too dark. The only explanation is that Aurelio had never been to the city before. He wasn’t sure where the track that leads to the bridge is. He must have gotten it wrong…and took the one that leads here instead.”

  Armada turned to see the three women who had been washing clothes, all of whom were watching the two strangers standing at the entrance with some interest.

  “And who do we know that would be crazy enough to wash their clothes here at night?” Armada said.

  Armada moved to the centre of the lavadero, just near the small pool that had already turned a murky black colour from soiled farmer’s clothing being dunked in it all day.

  “Excuse me, Señoras. I’m sorry to interrupt. I am Domingo Armada, of the Holy Brotherhood. May I have a word?”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Armada rapped on the door with Lucas standing next to him. He knew it was risky to have Lucas out in full view of the street. It was getting on toward mid-morning now and the street behind them was crawling with traffic. Anyone could have happened by and spotted the boy. But it was worth the risk. In a way, Lucas earned his right to be here. He deserved it, even if there was no guarantee he still wouldn’t hang for it.

  The door opened to Pepe, who frowned at him from behind his bushy moustache.

  “You? What do you want?”

  Armada went to enter the house but Pepe blocked him.

  “I’m not here for you,” Armada said. “Don’t make this difficult.”

  Armada and Lucas walked into the house, to the back kitchen to find Juan Mendoza at the table reviewing his books while his mother, Angeles, finished work on sewing up a hole on some work clothes.

  “Angeles,” Armada said, getting her attention.

  “Constable,” Angeles said. “Back to harass us again? Well, this time my husband is home, so I suggest you be more polite this time. And be quiet about it. The baby is sleeping in the other room, and I don’t want to have to put her to sleep again. Now, you might as well join us for lunch if you’re going to barge in like this. It’s only civil….”

  Armada stood in the doorway. This was not a social call.

  “Where were you the night Aurelio Martinez disappeared?” Armada asked, his uncompromising tone raising the tension in the room.

  “She was home,” came Pepe’s growly voice from behind him. Armada raised his hand to stop him.

  “I want to hear it from her.”

  “Don’t mind him. My husband is just being a protective old bear,” Angeles said. “He’s right, I was home.”

  “Presumably after you finished your work at the lavadero.”

  “Yes, probably.”

  “How late did you come home that night?”

  “Just after sunset.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t later?”

  “I’m sure. There wasn’t much of a moon. Without it, I can hardly see a thing.”

  “I’ve spoken to witnesses that say you worked quite a bit later than that. They also left around sunset, and said you were planning on working there for a few more hours at least. You bragged to them about your ability to see well in the dark.”

  “You must have spoken to Silvia,” Angeles said as she returned to her sewing. “She always was a little gossip.”

  “Does that mean she was right?”

  “Oh, possibly. How should I know? It was months ago.”

  “I think this particular night you would remember. Because you would have gotten an unexpected visitor. A boy, sixteen, maybe seventeen. He must have startled you, suddenly appearing as he did in the middle of the night.”

  Angeles now stopped her work, glaring up at Armada.

  “He had gotten lost in the dark. Took the wrong path. Wanted to know if you could direct him to the bridge. He was on his way to the university that night. I’m guessing you noticed the little silver pin he was wearing. The mint leaves. And you realised just who this boy was.”

  Armada held up the letter Aurelio had received from the boys.

  “He must have mentioned how this was his first time visiting the university. Which meant no one at the university, or in the colegio, knew what he looked like yet. Not even the woman sponsoring his education, the reclusive Lady Florentia. And he was about to cross the Roman Bridge in the middle of the night, where there was sure to be no witnesses. You saw an opportunity to give your boy a much better future than he had ever dreamed of. And you took it, didn’t you?”

  Angeles looked to her husband to defend her, but he remained quiet in the doorway, looking troubled.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about….”

  “The killing must have been easy. This boy took away an opportunity that your son rightly deserved. So, you hit him in the back of the head from behind. But what to do with the body? I may never know how you found out about the hidden space below the second arch of the bridge. But it must have been hard work getting Aurelio’s body into it. You stuffed it in on top of some old sacks, sealed up the loose bricks, and thought your troubles were over. Your boy would simply take Aurelio’s place. As long as you made sure Lady Florentia never found out about the real Aurelio’s disappearance, the tuition at the university would still be paid. Your son could just show up on the first day of lectures like nothing had happened. It’s not like anybody else from Santiago attends the university. Aurelio would be mourned here, a funeral, everything. But Santiago is such a world away from Salamanca, isn’t it? Not much danger of someone here having contact with anyone associated with the university. So how would anybody know?”

  “I don’t appreciate you coming into our home and making wild accusations. There are laws against such things. And we know a good lawyer in town—”

  “I cannot imagine the shock Gregorio Cordoba and Julian de Benaudalla must have felt when they went to collect their sulphur and found a body. Julian locked himself in his room for three days and broke off all contact with Gregorio. But it didn’t take Gregorio long to figure out what was going on. Especially after he saw this.”

  Armada held up the mint leaf pin he’d found on Aurelio Martinez’s body.

  “He knew what this was as well as you did. Proof. Proof that your boy wasn’t who he said he was. And instead of turning you in, he decided to use this rare opportunity to put your boy to work for him, didn’t he? It was a cheap way to get all the saltpetre he needed. And if Juan was ever caught, it would be easy to deny that he had ever known the boy. It was perfect.”

  Armada now turned his gaze on Juan, who slumped back in his chair, looking frightened.

  “It must have been hard to accept Gregorio taking such advantage of your boy, your angel, the one you sacrificed everything for. He had turned your precious Juan into a common street thief. But I’m curious—what was the final insult for you? What was it that pushed you over the edge and motivated you to murder him?”

  “Murder him…?” Pepe muttered. Was it possible he was that ignorant of what was happening in his own household?

  “I’m guessing it was when Gregorio began pushing your son to transport the gunpowder for him as well. Gregorio found out his old driver Teodoro was skimming the powder he was transporting for him and wanted Juan to replace him.”

  Armada wal
ked into the room. He stopped to stand by Juan’s chair and put a hand on Juan’s shoulder.

  “But Juan was afraid of the dark. So, your son told Gregorio no. And that was when Gregorio really began to threaten you. Was that it? Was that the point when you had no other choice but to kill again?”

  Angeles had given up her denials and pleas for him to leave. Armada could see it in her eyes. She had nowhere else left to hide. She sat rock still, listening, probably desperately looking for a way out of the situation. But he wouldn’t give her one.

  “So, you killed Gregorio Cordoba. But you didn’t just kill him, you let your rage out, the caged beast that had always lived within your heart. Tell me, did you always know it was there? Or did your brutality surprise even you? I saw Gregorio’s office after you’d finished with him. It was hard to believe a human being could have done that.”

  Armada walked over to Lucas and took the irons the boy had been carrying for him. He held them in front of him, letting them jangle a bit to let everyone know what Armada intended to do.

  “How long was it before you realised someone else knew where you’d hidden Aurelio Martinez’s body? When was it that you learned about Julian de Benaudalla, and how he’d been there with Gregorio the night they’d stumbled upon it? I’m guessing you had no idea until my page and I arrived and began piecing it all together. It was me that put you on to Julian, wasn’t it? It was my inquiries. And if I had been a bit faster putting this case together, perhaps he would still be alive. But that is my burden to carry.”

  Armada moved toward Angeles and placed the irons down on the table, making sure they made a loud clanking noise as he did so.

  “What I will also carry is the anger I have for you nearly killing my page that night as well, in the Duke of Frade’s villa. Which is why I have to admit I will quite enjoy arresting you.”

  “What about my boy?” Angeles suddenly asked. “What happens to him? That’s what this has all been for.”

  “Mother?” Juan asked, as if suddenly realising who his mother was for the first time. “Are you saying…?”

  “What about Juan?” Angeles asked more forcefully, showing a shade of the wild beast Armada knew was there. “You can’t take away his place at school. He’s worked so hard! It isn’t fair to him!”

  “It’s not up to me, it’s up to the corregidor. Although I can’t say he’s going to be pleased about Juan’s deception.”

  “It’s not his fault! It’s not fair!” Angeles screamed. She stood up, knocking the table aside, and threw a cutting board at Armada. He blocked it with his arm and didn’t see Angeles pick up the knife from the counter and come at him with it.

  “You’ve ruined everything!” she screamed, and she attacked Armada with the knife. Armada was surprised at her strength in the grips of such mania and found it hard to fend off her attempts to stab him in the neck. He realised Gregorio must have been equally as surprised.

  Another arm suddenly appeared, reaching across the front of her neck, while another one grabbed the knife, pulling her off of Armada.

  Armada looked up to find it was Pepe, who held her with all his strength.

  “Stop it! Stop it, Angeles! Enough! It’s over!”

  Angeles screamed and tried to wrestle free from his grasp, but Pepe was not about to let go. Angeles finally relaxed, dropping the knife so it clanged against the tiled floor.

  Angeles now just glared at him with murder in her eyes as her breathing slowly returned to normal. Behind her, Pepe looked at her as if for the first time, horrified at what he saw.

  “There it is. The wild beast once again,” Armada said, getting up from the floor. “It’s always there, isn’t it? Just below the surface, always waiting to be set free, as it was with Gregorio. And you think loyalty to your son excuses the horrors of what it’s done.”

  Armada threw the iron chains at Angeles’s feet.

  “It doesn’t.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Teo woke to the sound of the squeaking cell door being opened. Footsteps. The heavy clomping of the guard that he’d gotten to know so well. Rodriguez walked like a drunk horse, stumbling about in boots that were too large for him, a gift from a soldier they had executed last year.

  Teo was amazed at how adept his hearing had gotten in the weeks since they’d dumped him in this cell and forgotten about him. It was getting to where he could make out the conversations that were being had in the square below his window all day long. He liked to sit by the window, listening closely, pretending he was one of those normal people outside, milling about on a warm afternoon, not a care in the world. Nothing to do but hang about in cafés and gossip about the Royal Court.

  Teo had long since exhausted himself with being frightened of being hung. At this point, he just wanted it over. Life had just gotten too hard. There was no point in going on. It was obvious God wanted him dead. To keep fighting was just delaying the inevitable. He was tired of being hungry, of being frightened, of having everything he loved taken away. He yearned for the days in the army, the last time he’d been happy. But that’s all they were now, just memories, something to quiet his mind as he drifted off to sleep, which was all there was to do here. He preferred sleep. At least there he’d found a way to be happy.

  The footsteps stopped outside his cell. Had they finally come to hang him? It would have been strange, as he’d heard no preparations happening outside in the square. No platform being built, no murmur of a crowd waiting for blood, no excitement in the air. It sounded like a normal day out there.

  Rodriguez unlocked the door and swung it open.

  “Teo, get out.”

  “Why?” Teo asked without getting up. He was lying flat on his back on the stone wall underneath the window. He’d learned it was the best spot in the cell to hear what was going on outside the window. The noise bounced off the ceiling, amplifying it just a bit, making it sound closer. He liked that.

  “Because you’re released.”

  Teo couldn’t quite believe it. He yanked his head up, then sat up, ignoring the pains in his back as he did so. He turned around, wondering if he’d managed to fall asleep and this was all a dream.

  “Released?”

  “You heard me. Out. We need this cell.”

  Teo was not about to argue. He scrambled to his feet and walked out of the cell, waiting to see what Rodriguez’s trick would be.

  Rodriguez had an unusually dour mood about him this morning and escorted Teo down the long corridor to the iron-barred door that led to the ayuntamiento upstairs. As he passed Rodriguez’s desk, he saw it—a release order, signed by a magistrate named Torrejón.

  It had to be a trick. There was no other explanation. He’d been caught red-handed with illegal contraband. He had no money to pay lawyers or have anyone speak on his behalf. Nothing he ever said was believed. He was a crook, according to everyone he’d encountered since his arrest.

  Rodriguez escorted him all the way through the ayuntamiento building to the front door, where a host of important-looking administrative officials were milling about, occasionally glancing over their shoulders at him and scrunching their noses at the smell.

  “What’s happened? Why am I being released?”

  “You have a friend out there. Paid your bail and all your fees. Convinced the magistrate you weren’t worth it. Don’t know how you managed it. Never thought you would have a friend beyond that mangy mule of yours.”

  Thoughts of the constable from the Brotherhood floated through Teo’s mind. Perhaps he’d judged the man too harshly at first. He owed him a drink, at least. No constable he’d ever met would have gone through the trouble for him.

  Rodriguez left him standing at the front door at the top of the steps that led down to the northern edge of the plaza.

  Teo made his way down the steps to find someone standing at the bottom staring up at him.

  “You?” Teo said, amazed. “You did this?”

  “Yes,” Elvira said back. She was still dressed in
her modest black mourning dress, but she had added touches of white to lighten the austere mood it evoked. A white coif, gloves dyed blue with white embroidery, and a red velvet coat that looked brand new.

  Teo stopped halfway down the steps, waiting to see what she wanted before getting any closer.

  “Why?”

  Elvira took her time to speak, letting her gaze drift off toward where a handful of couples were enjoying a drink at a café nearby, while others kept a close eye on children that raced about the tables with wild abandon, annoying the waiters.

  “Gregorio and I were married for fifteen years,” Elvira said, watching the children with a slight smile. “I was so focused on what our lives were going to be, on who he could have been. What I didn’t do in all those years was learn who he actually was. I guess that is why it was so easy for him to hide his secrets from me.”

  Elvira turned her gaze back to Teo.

  “I’ve realised since Gregorio died that you know more about my husband than I ever did.”

  For some reason, Teo felt comfortable enough to come the rest of the way down the steps. It seemed rude to make Elvira speak up in such a public place. As he moved toward her, she turned and began to stroll toward the market. Teo decided to follow, finding it awkward to not feel threatened by her, or by anyone. No one was chasing him. No one was trying to kill him. She just wanted to talk to him. That was all. And it felt odd. Odd, but nice.

  “I found the money my husband owed to you. It was in his workshop. My maid, bless her soul, showed it to me,” Elvira said. “I couldn’t think of a better use for the money but to get you released. I must admit, much of it was spent on the lawyer, but he managed to do what he promised. Here….”

  Elvira held out her hand. Teo held out his, and she dropped a handful of ducats into it.

  “That is what is left. Hopefully enough to start over.”