The White Corpses

by Gemma Herrero Virto

  ‘Fine.’ The young man folded his arms across his chest, insolently. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I’ve heard that Daniel had a lot of gambling debts. Do you know anything about that?’

  ‘How should I know...? That was Daniel’s problem.’

  ‘Stop being a pain in the arse and answer me, or I’m going to start being much less friendly. I’m sure you have the same money problems as Daniel. Who did you both ask for money from?’

  ‘Well, it’s possible I might know something, but right now I don’t remember all that well.’ An impish spark had lit up in his eyes. ‘Perhaps a small subsidy would help me recall.’

  ‘You’re even more stupid than I thought if you think I’m going to let go of a single damn euro just so that you can carry on feeding your bad habit.’ Carlos puffed out and looked at a point situated several metres behind the young man, as if the latter were invisible. ‘You’re getting me angry with your nonsense, and I don’t know how much longer I am going to be able to contain myself.’

  ‘You can’t hit me here. They’ll kick you out.’

  ‘Yes, of course. But the four of five thumps that I’m going to give you before they kick me out are going to stay with you. Are you going to answer me or not?’

  ‘Okay, okay... God, what a temper. You wouldn’t happen to be police would you?’

  Carlos decided not to answer. He limited himself to raising an eyebrow and letting out a cynical half-smile, and looking back at the young man as if deciding where he would begin dismembering him.

  ‘He’s called Ricky, and you can find him at the back of the bar, at one of the poker tables. He’s a son of a bitch with a really bad temper, so go away and annoy him and leave me in peace.’

  ‘That attitude’s not going to get you anywhere,’ Carlos said to him, dedicating to him a goodbye smile.

  He went into the corridor, still holding the beer in his left hand. With his right, he checked that his gun was still in its place. He had no desire to use it. He would get into massive trouble with Aguirre just by taking it out, but its weight and its familiar shape beneath the fabric of his coat made him feel more secure. He was just coming to the end of the corridor when he noticed that his mobile was vibrating. He took it out of his pocket and checked who was calling. It was Natalia. For a second, he thought about hanging up and calling her when he finished there, but that would worry her, and it was never a bad idea to tell somebody where you were just in case things turned ugly.

  ‘Hi. What do you want?’

  ‘Hi. I was going to make the dinner, but I don’t even have a clue when you’ll be back. What are you doing?’

  ‘Well right now I’m at a dive in Barrencalle in Casco Viejo, on the verge of interrogating a dangerous loan shark who I’m certain belongs to some local mafia.’

  ‘Are you being serious?’

  ‘No, calm down. The place isn’t that bad, and surely the loan shark is a loser. Don’t worry.’

  ‘And what are you going to interrogate a loan shark for?’

  ‘I’ve been talking with Daniel Gómez’s parents. They insist it’s impossible that their son would have got drunk and had a car accident, because he didn’t drink. What they did tell me is that he had a serious addiction to gambling and that he owed a lot of money to the guy I’m about to talk to.’

  ‘Interesting, although I don’t see how it could be related to our case.’

  ‘To tell the truth, me neither, but I’m so desperate that I have to give it a shot. By the way, have you seen the report on Daniel’s post-mortem?’

  ‘No, I wasn’t the one to do it, and don’t know who could have been entrusted with it. Why? Do you want me to have a look at it?’

  ‘Yes. If her parents are right, it wasn’t an accident, but rather another murder. Maybe the person who did the post-mortem thought that he was just another drunk in a car crash and didn’t pay too much attention to the details. I would like you to check it as soon as you can.’

  ‘I will. Don’t worry.’

  ‘Thank you. I don’t know how long this is going to take me. You go ahead and eat and I’ll whip up something for myself when I get back.’

  ‘All right. Don’t be too late... And be careful.’

  ‘I always am. I love you.’

  Carlos hung up, looked both ways to make sure that nobody had heard his latest demonstration of affection, which would strip him of many points he had as a hard and dangerous guy, and resumed walking towards the room at the end of the corridor.

  The place was very dim, almost in semi-darkness. Only a couple of lights on each wall were giving off a yellow and sickly light. Carlos wondered how those people managed to see the cards without losing their eyesight in the attempt. The roulette wheel was still, and there was nobody around it. There was not even anybody attending to it. It seemed to be more an object of decoration than anything that was actually used. On the contrary, the tables used for playing cards were full. Carlos went over to the one that was occupied by the worst looking people. When he was a few steps away, all of its occupants turned towards him. His well-trained eye warned him that the shapes showing under the jackets of two of them were pistols. These people did not take any nonsense. He put his most inoffensive and friendly smile on his face, and continued with his approach.

  ‘Good evening. Is one of you gentlemen Ricky?’

  Nobody answered, but the eyes of all of them riveted on one of the occupants at the table, who was pretending to be highly busy organising the cards in his hand. Carlos decided to remain silent whilst he observed the man, trying to calculate whether he was a dangerous guy or not. He had a dark complexion, his hair was gelled, and he had a goatee that was so fine and perfect that it looked as though it had been drawn on with a ruling pen. His left cheek was decorated with a thick scar that looked old. He was wearing more or less one and a half kilos of gold chain around his neck, which stood out against a tight-fitting black shirt with several buttons undone. On his fingers, which were also adorned with enormous gold rings, he had various letters tattooed. Carlos took his time to discern what it read: “HATE” on the right hand; “SICK” on the left hand. That calmed him down. The guy was a fool who made the utmost effort to appear tough. The real dodgy guys did not feel the need to announce it to the four winds.

  ‘You’re Ricky, right?’ he persisted, upon noticing that nobody was answering.

  ‘Depends on why you’re looking for me,’ replied the man, without deigning to look at him.

  ‘I’d like to speak with you alone. Could you lend me a few minutes of your time?’

  ‘I don’t lend time and, if I did, I’d have to charge you interest.’ The response was provided with a chorus of stupid laughter from his friends at the table. ‘I’m busy now. Come back in half an hour.’

  Carlos shot him a murderous look to make it clear to him that that had not gone down well at all with him. Just as he had suspected, this moron needed to continuously prove his power, to dominate the others, to subject them to his whims... Well tonight he had met the wrong man. Carlos was about to come out with a clever comment and deliver a blow to the tabletop when a jab in his side made him stop. A man had come up close behind him and was pinning something against him. It felt like a penknife or something a little bigger. He was not pressing hard with it, jus enough to go through his clothing and prick his skin slightly.

  ‘Be careful, Ricky,’ said the guy behind him. ‘I know this guy. He’s a pig.’

  ‘A copper?’ In a single second, Ricky lost his mask of coolness and self-possession. ‘How do you know?’

  Carlos shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, trying to express that he did not know what that guy was talking about, and that he was very likely crazy.

  ‘We had the pleasure of meeting about eight years ago. This guy is a homicide inspector.’

  ‘I think you’re confusing me with someone else,’ intervened Carlos.

  ‘I’m not mistaken. I have your face well ingrained on my memory. I’v
e spent the last eight years in a cell, remembering it.’ The man came closer to his ear to whisper to him. ‘I remember you perfectly, Inspector Vega.’

  ‘Shit. What’s a copper doing here? And what the hell do you want with me?’ Ricky shouted at him.

  ‘Doesn’t matter what he wants. We need to take him to a quiet place and do him in,’ suggested the guy behind Carlos.

  ‘That’s a very intelligent decision,’ said Carlos, riveting his gaze on Ricky and ignoring the guy who was still poking him. ‘As you will all imagine, I have not come unarmed. If you try do to kill me, I guarantee you that I’ll be taking a couple of sons of bitches upfront to keep me company on the journey.’

  ‘We’ve got weapons too,’ replied Ricky, standing up and puffing out his chest like a pigeon.

  ‘Great. Let’s imagine for a second that you did manage to kill me. In addition to the dozens of people who’ve seen me come in here, my colleagues down at the station know where I went and who I wanted to speak with.’ Carlos allowed himself a smile of superiority. ‘I don’t know what scams you’re involved in, Ricky, but I very much doubt that you want to complicate your life even more by adding onto them the death of a cop. Am I right?’

  ‘Don’t listen to him, Ricky,’ shouted the guy behind him, driving the knifepoint a little further in.

  ‘I don’t want any commotion, Rabbit,’ said Ricky. ‘Don’t you go getting me mixed up in your business.’

  ‘So you’re going to let a bloody pig step into our territory and give you orders? He’s laughing at you. You’re going to end up looking like a loser in front of your men.’

  Carlos could not continue to contain himself upon the next jab from the guy nicknamed Rabbit. Without his brain even having processed the order, his right fist shot out backwards. He heard the crunching of a nose breaking and a groan of pain, and he felt the sharp poking in his side disappear. The knife fell to the floor and clattered against the floor tiles, whilst “Rabbit” threw both hands up to his face, trying to contain the river of blood that was flowing from his nose.

  ‘You’ve broken my nose, you son of a bitch,’ yelled the man, shooting him a look of hatred.

  ‘Now you have three options: to go and take care of that, to continue interrupting a police investigation and have me call for backup and then have them take care of you down at the station, or to go back to pissing me off and have me break more things of yours.’

  ‘You won’t forget this,’ threatened the man, before turning towards the door.

  ‘I very much doubt that. I’m supposed to have arrested you, and I don’t even have a bloody clue who you are,’ replied Carlos as the other man moved away. Once he left the room, Carlos turned back towards the games table. ‘Well, now that we’ve finished with that bothersome interruption, we can carry on with our business. Since the party’s over, would you now mind lending me a couple of minutes of your time?’

  Ricky remained silent for a few seconds, and finally nodded and gave a signal to his friends for them to leave. They all shot him looks that were loaded with hatred, which must have been a warning that they would be nearby, watching over every move he made. Carlos ignored them, collapsed into the nearest chair, and took his packet of cigarettes out of his pocket.

  ‘You’re not allowed to smoke here,’ Ricky notified him.

  ‘Really?’ Carlos let out a sarcastic giggle, took out a cigarette, lit it, and took a long puff on it and sat watching as the wisps of smoke rose up towards the ceiling. ‘Well, I’m sure that half the people in this room don’t have permission to be carrying the weapons they’re carrying, and that you don’t have a license for your moneylender activities. Let’s all be a little flexible. All right?’

  Ricky nodded, swallowed a couple of times, and began turning one of his gigantic rings around on his finger whilst he waited for the first question with the same guilty expression as that of a little boy who has been called into the headmaster’s office. Carlos allowed himself a smile. Just as he had expected, beneath that tough-guy disguise there was only a coward, one of those guys who feels brave surrounded by his mates, and who comes crumbling down as soon as the screws get tightened. He was going to sing like a canary.

  ‘Well to tell the truth, the thing is I’d invented a wonderful story about how I was a friend of Daniel Gómez’s parents, and how they’d entrusted me with inquiring about their son’s debts so as to be able to pay them off, but, as your friend the Rabbit has just exposed me, there’s no longer any need to pretend.’ Carlos leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. ‘Let’s get straight to the point. Did you have anything to do with Daniel’s death?’

  ‘Me? I’ve never killed anyone in my life. Why would I have killed him?’

  ‘Perhaps he owed you a lot of money, and you didn’t think he was able to pay it back.’

  ‘I don’t kill my clients. Once they’re dead, it makes it very difficult for them to pay you what they owe.’

  ‘Yes, of course... I suppose you’re right, but maybe you decided to sacrifice that money in exchange for teaching your other debtors.’

  ‘No, I honestly don’t work like that. I’m not going to deny to you that on occasion we may go and frighten someone a bit, but we’ve never taken anyone down. Those kinds of things scare away potential clientele.’ Ricky threw himself backwards in his seat and shook his head. ‘Besides, I didn’t have any reason to hurt Daniel. He didn’t owe me anything.’

  ‘Are you certain about that? His parents have told me he owed you about six thousand euros.’

  ‘Do you think I’d disown a debt like that? Fuck, that would have been an absolute shit load of money to lose; a real hit on my business. Luckily, Daniel paid me down to the very last euro before he was killed.’

  ‘And do you have any idea how he was able to gather so much money?’

  ‘Yeah. He told me.’ Ricky leant forwards and lowered his voice. ‘The truth is that Daniel was somewhat late on his payments, so my boys and I decided to go and give him a reminder.’

  ‘How courteous of you! I’m sure that people are delighted with your client-focussed service,’ remarked Carlos, sarcastically.

  ‘Do you want me to tell you or not?’ asked Ricky, feeling annoyed. When Carlos nodded, he continued talking. ‘The fact is that the guy swore he was going to pay me: he told me he was doing a job for a colleague, who was a guy that was rolling in it, and that he was going to pay him really well and that he’d give back everything he owed me in less than three months.’

  ‘And did he?’

  ‘Yes. You have it right here,’ Ricky took out a little leather bound notebook from the back pocket of his trousers and proceeded to go through the pages until he found what he was looking for. ‘These are my notes about Daniel. As you can see, he owed me six thousand euros, and he paid it all back in three instalments of two thousand: two in September, and one in October.’

  Carlos signalled to him to ask him for a bit of time, took out his own notebook, and jotted down the dates of the payments. He would have to verify it upon returning to the station, but he was certain that each one of the payments had been made two or three days after each victim’s death.

  ‘When he had finished paying, I told him that, as he had proven himself to be a good client, I could go back to opening a credit line again, but he answered me saying that the whole gambling thing was over for him and that, besides, he was no longer going to be receiving any more money, as the gravy train had now finished for him.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘From what I seemed to understand, the guy who had hired him only wanted him for a very specific job, and that job was now done.’

  ‘Did he ever say anything to you about this guy’s name, or where he knew him from?’

  ‘No, only that he worked with him. I think that Daniel was a cop, so maybe he worked with you. Perhaps you know him.’

  Carlos did not reply. He limited himself to smiling in sign of appreciation and getting up from the table. Ricky’s friend
s, who had been waiting a few metres away, leaning against the wall with their arms folded in front of their chests and sullen faces, immediately went over to the table. Carlos said goodbye with a nod and left the room. Before leaving the bar, he went into the toilets. Facing the mirror, he took off his coat and saw that his shirt was soaked with blood. He lifted it up and took a look at the wound. It was not deep, but it looked highly scandalous. It would give Natalia a fainting spell if she saw him like that. Upon thinking about her, he sat down for a while on the toilet bowl, took his mobile out of his pocket, and called her.

  ‘Hi, Natalia.’

  ‘Hi. You’re on your way back here and you want me to prepare you something for dinner, right?’

  ‘Actually, no. I’m going to stay here for a while to see if I can find anyone else who knew Daniel.’

  ‘Have you found anything?’

  ‘Yes, many things. I’ve spoken with Daniel’s moneylender. He came to owe him six thousand euros, but between September and October he paid it all back in three payments of two thousand euros, which I believe all coincide with the dates of our three victims’ deaths.’

  ‘So somebody paid him generously for changing the records. What I don’t understand is why they killed him.’

  ‘According to what the loan shark just told me, the guy who paid Daniel had told him he didn’t need him anymore, as his job was now done.’

  ‘That can’t be.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘A serial killer’s work is never done. He doesn’t have to kill three victims, or five, or twelve, and then stop. Those kinds of people can’t stop, and much less plan out when they’re going to stop.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘That maybe I’ve made a mistake and we’re not pursuing a serial killer.’

  ‘Will you let me just set the phone to record, and can you repeat that sentence, please?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. This is important. If it isn’t a serial killer, the victims can’t have been chosen by chance. The murderer would have reasons for killing at least one of them.’