‘You already knew,’ asserted Amaia.
Ros swallowed, and doing so seemed to cost her considerable effort.
‘I knew he was seeing someone,’ she said at last.
‘Did you know it was Anne?’
‘No, but I knew he was seeing another woman. If you’d seen him … He was a textbook cheat. He was euphoric, he gave up smoking joints and he wasn’t drinking; he would shower three times a day and he even started wearing the aftershave I gave him three Christmases ago which he had never used. I’m not stupid, and he gave me every possible clue. It was obvious that he was seeing someone.’
‘And you knew who it was.’
‘No, I didn’t know, I swear. But I knew that it had come to an end the day I went home to collect my things and I found him crying like a little boy. He was very drunk. His eyes were a mess, he had his face buried in a cushion and he was crying so hard that I could barely understand him. He was the living image of desperation; I thought that perhaps his mother, or one of his aunts … Then he managed to calm down a bit and he started to tell me that everything had gone wrong because of him, and now everything was over, that he had never loved anybody like that, that he was sure he couldn’t stand it. What an idiot! I thought for a moment that he was talking about us, about our relationship, about our love. Then he said something like “I love her more than I’ve ever loved anybody in my life” … Do you understand? I wanted to kill him.’
‘Did he tell you who it was then?’
‘No,’ murmured Ros.
‘Have you been to your house today?’
‘No.’ Her thin voice was barely audible.
‘Where were you between one and two this afternoon?’
‘What sort of question is that?’ asked Ros, suddenly raising her voice.
‘The sort of question I have to ask you,’ replied Amaia, without a flicker of emotion.
‘Amaia, do you think …’ she left the sentence unfinished.
‘It’s just routine, Ros. Answer the question.’
‘I left work at one on the dot and I went and had lunch at a bar in Lekaroz that does food, like I do every other day. Then I had a coffee with the manager and I went back to work at two thirty and stayed there until five.’
‘I need to ask you another question now,’ said Amaia, softening her tone. ‘Please be honest, Ros. Did you know who your husband was seeing? I know what you’ve already told us, but perhaps someone told you, or at least insinuated something.’
Ros remained silent and looked down at her hands, which were twisting a tissue tighter and tighter.
‘For the love of God, Ros, tell me the truth or I won’t be able to help you.’
Ros started to cry silently, fat tears rolled down her face, which became something like a parody of a smile. Amaia felt as if the floor was giving way beneath her feet. She leant forward and hugged her sister.
‘Please tell me,’ she said with her mouth by her sister’s ear. ‘They saw you arguing with a woman.’
Ros pulled brusquely free of the embrace and went to sit by the fire.
‘She was a belagile,’ she murmured, distressed.
It was the second time that day she had heard someone use that word to describe Anne, Amaia thought to herself.
‘What were you talking about?’
‘We didn’t speak.’
‘What did she say to you?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing? Inspector Montes, repeat what you told Zabalza yesterday,’ she said, turning abruptly towards the inspector, who had remained silent and grim-faced until that point. He stood up as if he was giving testimony before a judge, straightened his jacket and ran a hand over his slicked-back hair.
‘Yesterday, after nightfall, I was walking along the east side of the river when I saw Rosaura and another woman together, standing facing one another on the other side of the river, level with the ikastola. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I heard the girl laughing, she laughed so loudly that I heard it clearly.’
‘That’s all she did,’ said Ros, looking nervous. ‘Yesterday afternoon, after leaving my house, I felt a bit stunned and I went to walk along the river bank for a while. Anne Arbizu was coming in the opposite direction to me; she was wearing a hood that partly covered her face and as we were about to pass one another I noticed she was looking me in the eye. Although I knew her by sight, we had never spoken, and I thought she was going to ask me something, but instead she stopped in front of me, barely two steps away, and started to laugh, to mock me, without taking her eyes off me.’
Amaia saw the others’ expressions of surprise, but she continued the questioning.
‘What did you say to her?’
‘Nothing. Why? I understood everything immediately; there was nothing to say, she was laughing at me. I felt embarrassed and humiliated, and also intimidated … If you’d seen her eyes. I swear that I have never seen such evil in a look in my whole life, so much malice and knowledge, as if I were looking at an old woman full of wisdom and scorn.’
Amaia sighed loudly.
‘Ros, I want you to think about what you’ve just told me. I know you spoke to a woman, Inspector Montes witnessed it, but it couldn’t have been Anne Arbizu, because by that time yesterday, when you were on your way back from your house, Anne had already been dead for twenty-one hours.’
Ros trembled as if she’d been caught up by a wind that was blowing her in different directions and lifted her hands in a gesture of confusion and distress.
‘Who did you speak to, Ros? Who was that woman?’
‘I’ve already told you, it was Anne Arbizu, it was that belagile, that demon.’
‘For the love of God! Stop lying or I can’t help you!’ exclaimed Amaia.
‘It was Anne Arbizu!’ Ros shouted furiously, getting up and standing in front of her.
Amaia remained silent for a minute, looked at Iriarte and nodded her permission.
‘Could it have been a woman who looked very like Anne? You said you’d never spoken to her; could you have mistaken another girl for her? If she was wearing a hood, perhaps you couldn’t see her face properly,’ he said.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps …’ admitted Ros without conviction. He went over until he was standing in front of her.
‘Rosaura Salazar, we have applied for a warrant for your home, your mobile phones and your computers, which also includes the boxes that you took away with you yesterday,’ said Iriarte in a neutral voice.
‘You don’t need it, you can look through whatever you like. I suppose it’s the way things have to be. The stuff in the boxes is all mine, Amaia, there’s nothing of his.’
‘I’d thought as much …’
‘Wait, am I a suspect? Me?’
Amaia didn’t answer; she looked at her aunt, who had one arm across her chest and the other hand over her mouth. She felt terrible about how much harm this must be doing her.
Iriarte stepped forward, aware of the tension that was increasing with every passing moment. ‘Your husband was having an affair with Anne Arbizu, she’s dead, murdered, and he tried to kill himself. Right now, he’s the main suspect, but you also found out about the affair yesterday, first from him and then from that woman who was mocking you in the middle of the street.’
‘Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting this … Isn’t there supposed to be a serial killer out there who murders little girls? Have you got another theory up your sleeve now? Because Freddy is an imbecile, a layabout, a shit and useless besides. But he doesn’t go around killing little girls.’
Deputy Inspector Montes looked at Amaia and then intervened.
‘Rosaura, it’s a routine part of the investigation, we search the house and, if we don’t find anything strange, we verify your alibis and rule you out as suspects; it’s nothing personal, it’s how we work. You don’t need to worry.’
‘Anything strange? Everything’s been strange during the last few months. Everything,’ she sat back down in the armchair and closed her eye
s, as if overwhelmed by an extraordinary exhaustion.
‘Rosaura, we need you to make a statement,’ said Iriarte.
‘I just have,’ she replied without opening her eyes.
‘At the police station.’
‘I understand.’ She stood up abruptly, picked up her bag and jacket, which were hanging on the back of the sofa, and headed for the door, kissing her aunt on the way but without looking at her sister.
‘Whenever you’re ready,’ she told Iriarte.
‘Thank you,’ he said, before following her out.
Amaia put her hands on the mantelshelf and felt her trousers become so hot from the fire that it seemed they might burst into flames at any moment. Montes’s, Jonan’s and her mobile phones bleeped in unison to announce the arrival of a text message. ‘The search warrant?’ she asked without looking at her phone.
‘Yes, chief.’
She accompanied them out and shut the sitting room door behind her.
‘Go and meet up with the officers from Elizondo. Montes, you and Deputy Inspector Etxaide can help them. I’ll wait at the station until you’ve finished so as not to compromise the investigation.’
‘But, chief … I don’t think …’ protested Jonan.
‘It’s my sister’s house, Jonan. Search it, look for any evidence of the relationship between Anne and Freddy, and, if there is any, look for anything that suggests that my sister was aware of what was going on beforehand. Be meticulous: letters, books, text messages, emails, photos, personal items, sex toys … Ask their telephone company for their telephone records, or, even better, find the bill. Question both Freddy’s and Rosaura’s friends, someone had to know about it.’
‘I’ve gone through all Anne’s emails and I can assure you that there was nothing addressed to Freddy. And there’s nothing in her call or text message records to indicate that she ever rang him. Although her friends were sure she was seeing a married man, in Anne’s own words, she was going to end the affair because the guy had become too obsessed with her. Do you think he took the end of the relationship badly enough to kill her?’
‘I don’t think so, Jonan, and what about the other murders? If there’s one thing we all agree on, it’s that they form a series, and Anne’s isn’t an imitation, it was conducted following the same pattern. For that reason, if Freddy had killed Anne, he would have to have killed the other two girls as well. He’s stupid enough to have a relationship with a minor ten times cleverer than he is, but he doesn’t fit the profile of such a methodical killer: the coldness, the control and the arrangement of the scene according to a protocol from which he never deviates don’t match Freddy’s character at all. Serial killers have no regrets and they don’t kill themselves because of their victims. Search the house, then we’ll see.’
The door closed behind Jonan and Amaia went back into the sitting room. James and her aunt looked at her in silence.
‘Amaia …’ James began.
‘Please don’t say anything, this is all very difficult for me. Please, I beg you. I’ve done as much as I can. Now you’ve seen what I have to do every day, now you’ve seen how shitty my job is.’
She picked up her anorak and left the house. She walked towards the trinquete with firm steps, went a little way onto the bridge, stopped, turned back towards Calle Braulio Iriarte and walked determinedly towards Calle Menditurri, towards the workshop.
22
She drew close to the door and tried the lock, aware of her heart pumping in her chest. Without thinking, she raised her other hand to her neck, looking for the string from which the key had hung for so long. A voice behind her made her jump.
‘Amaia.’
She spun round, drawing her gun automatically.
‘God, James! What are you doing here?’
‘Your aunt told me you’d come here,’ he said, looking at the workshop door in confusion.
‘My aunt …’ she muttered, cursing the fact that she was so predictable. ‘I almost shot you,’ she whispered, slipping the Glock back into its holster.
‘I was … We’re worried about you, your aunt and I …’
‘Sure, let’s get out of here,’ she said, looking at the door, apprehensive all of a sudden.
‘Amaia …’ James went over to her and put an arm around her shoulders, holding her against him as they walked towards the bridge. ‘I don’t understand why you’ve suddenly started behaving as if we’re all against you. I understand your job, and I understand that you’ve done what you had to do, and your aunt knows that too. Ros made a mistake in not telling you about the girl, but I can understand that; however great a police officer you are, you’re also her little sister and I think she felt a bit embarrassed. You have to try and understand it, because your aunt and I understand, and we realise that you tried to make things easier by being the one to question her and doing it at home, not down at the station.’
‘Yes,’ she admitted, letting her muscles relax and moving closer to her husband. ‘Perhaps you’re right.’
‘Amaia, there’s something else. We’ve been married for five years and in all that time I don’t think we’ve spent forty-eight hours straight in Elizondo. I always thought you’d become a radical urbanite like so many other people who grow up in small towns do after they move away. A girl brought up in a rural area who goes off to live in the city, becomes a police officer and leaves her roots behind a bit … but there’s something else, isn’t there?’
He stopped and tried to look her in the eyes, but she avoided his gaze. James didn’t give in and, taking her by the shoulders, made her look at him.
‘Amaia, what’s going on? Is there something you’re not telling me? I’m really worried, if there’s something important that affects us you have to tell me what it is.’
She looked at him, angry at first, but when she saw the concern and sense of helplessness behind his demands for answers, she smiled at him sadly.
‘They’re ghosts, James, ghosts from the past. Your wife, who doesn’t believe in magic, divination, basajauns or genies, is haunted by ghosts. I’ve spent years trying to hide away in Pamplona, I have a badge and a pistol and I’ve avoided coming here for a long time because I knew that if I came back they would find me. It’s everything, all this evil, this monster who kills little girls and leaves them by the river, little girls like me, James.’ His eyes widened in confusion. But she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking past him at a point somewhere in the middle distance. ‘It was evil that made me come back, the ghosts have risen up from their graves, alerted by my presence, and now they’ve found me.’
James embraced her, letting her bury her face in his chest in that intimate gesture that always comforted her.
‘Little girls like you …’ he murmured.
23
The patrol car that had taken Amaia to the police station parked under the overhang formed by the second floor. The officer wished her a good night, but she lingered inside the vehicle for a couple of seconds while she pretended to look for her phone and waited for her sister and Inspector Iriarte, who were coming out of the station and getting into his car so he could drive her home, to move away. A fine rain started to fall the moment she went through the door. An officer who was clearly still completing his training was chatting on his mobile, which he switched off and clumsily hid as soon as he saw her. She walked towards the lift without stopping, pressed the button and looked again at the officer at the reception desk. She retraced her steps.
‘Can you show me your mobile?’
‘I’m sorry, Inspector, I …’
‘Let me see it.’
He handed her a silver coloured mobile phone that glinted under the lights of the entrance hall. Amaia inspected it carefully.
‘Is it new? It looks like a good one.’
‘Yeah, it’s pretty good,’ he declared with the pride of ownership.
‘It looks expensive, it’s not one of those ones you can buy with supermarket loyalty points.’
‘No,
you’re right, it’s a limited edition and cost eight-hundred euros.’
‘I saw someone else with one.’
‘Well that must have been very recent, because I’ve only had mine a week. It went on sale ten days ago and I was one of the first to buy one.’
‘Congratulations, officer,’ she said, and ran to reach the lift before its doors closed.
On the table was a computer, a mobile phone, a month’s worth of post, including bills and some evidence bags containing what looked like hash. Jonan was checking a bill against the information on his computer screen.
‘Good evening,’ Amaia greeted him.
‘Hi, chief,’ he answered vaguely, without taking his eyes off the screen.
‘What have we got?’
‘There’s nothing in the email, but the mobile is full of calls and the most heart-rending messages … although not to Anne’s number.’
‘No, to Anne’s other number,’ she clarified. Jonan turned round, surprised.
‘I’ve just seen a mobile phone identical to Anne Arbizu’s, a very expensive and exclusive mobile that’s only been on sale for ten days. The length of her telephone contract. But it seems a bit strange that a girl like Anne didn’t have a mobile phone at all until ten days ago, just when she got fed up with Freddy’s calls and messages. She was a very practical girl, so she got rid of her old mobile … She couldn’t just lose the SIM card, so she ‘lost’ the whole phone and asked her aita to buy her a contract phone with a new number.’
‘Fuck,’ murmured Jonan.
‘Ask her parents. We’ll know enough from checking the number against Freddy’s bill. Have you found anything else?’
‘Nothing, apart from the hash. There were only personal items in Rosaura’s boxes. I’m going to go through the post, but it’s only bills and junk mail, nothing to suggest your sister could have known about his affair.’ Amaia sighed and turned towards the big windows onto the street. Beyond the path to the station, which was lit up by the yellow light of the streetlamps, there was nothing but darkness. ‘I can deal with this, Inspector, but it will take me quite some time yet. Go and have a rest, I’ll let you know if I find anything.’
The Invisible Guardian Page 17