Water-Blue Eyes

by Villar, Domingo

‘That’s Mercedes’s. I don’t go near it.’

  Zuriaga pointed to a path leading to the forest they’d seen from the entrance.

  ‘This way.’

  The path went round a pond and led into a copse of old chestnut trees. As he waited for the doctor to start talking, Caldas walked silently, surrounded by vegetable smells which were stronger under the trees.

  ‘I got the first pictures one Monday morning, about a month ago,’ he finally said. ‘They asked me for three thousand euros to destroy them. I had to leave the money at a certain spot on Monte del Castro, near the Foundation.’

  ‘And did you pay?’

  ‘I did, but the following Monday I got another email, and the following week another … In total I left three envelopes in that place.’

  ‘Did you ever consider reporting it to the police?’

  ‘I though of it, but then I convinced myself that it would be more discreet to engage a private detective. I was considering different alternatives, but as you know when one has too many options it becomes difficult to choose from them, inspector. The money they were asking for was not excessive – I mean, not for someone in my position. And I couldn’t make a mistake with a matter such as this one. So I didn’t mind holding out for a while and paying up until I found the right person to take care of the investigation. I was going to engage someone as soon as I received the next message, but last Monday I didn’t get any pictures.’

  ‘And you decided to hide it all in case that was it.’

  ‘Exactly, inspector. There didn’t seem to be any point in stirring things up just for the sake of it. I try not to attract any notice, but I can’t help being a public figure. Few people in this city know my face, but they all know my name and that of the organisation I represent. I couldn’t let a scandal of this sort taint the Foundation.’

  ‘Or your family.’

  ‘Indeed. It’s all connected – work, family, society … A scandal could shake everything I and my father before me have worked for.’

  Leo Caldas was thinking that the doctor’s words would need solid evidence to back them up.

  ‘Did you keep the messages, doctor?’

  ‘No. I did for a few days, but then I deleted them.’

  You’re not very lucky, thought Caldas.

  ‘I see. Who could have taken those pictures?’

  ‘I don’t know, inspector, I have no idea.’

  ‘And sent them?’

  ‘The same,’ replied Zuriaga. ‘I don’t know a great deal about computers, but I did look into it. The email addresses from which they were sent were fakes and had absurd names. All I was able to find out was that they were sent from cyber cafes, which hundreds of people use every day.’

  ‘Do you know that Reigosa is dead, doctor?’

  ‘Of course. I was at his funeral yesterday – just like you, inspector. As I told you this morning, I hardly ever forget a face.’

  The path passed under magnolia, yew and pine trees. Where it forked Zuriaga took the right.

  ‘Did you ever suspect it might have been Reigosa who was blackmailing you?’

  ‘Are you mad? Why would Luis do something like that?’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that you stopped receiving emails just when he died?’

  ‘It isn’t.’ There was no sign of hesitation in Dimas Zuriaga’s voice. ‘Luis only had to ask for whatever he needed. A man like him wouldn’t do such a stupid thing as blackmailing me for money. You’ve seen the pictures. You know about me, about us, inspector.’

  Leo nodded, but Zuriaga laboured the point.

  ‘We were more than friends. I would have given him anything he might have needed without even asking him what it was for. He had no reason to do something like that.’

  ‘Did you do it?’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Give him money.’

  ‘God, no, of course I didn’t.’ The doctor drew his hand over his white hair. ‘But I would’ve done if he’d asked.’

  ‘Was he that important to you?’

  ‘You don’t understand, inspector.’

  ‘That’s why we’re having this conversation, doctor, so you can explain to me what I don’t understand. Was he that important?’ he insisted.

  ‘Of course, he was more important than even he suspected.’

  ‘But not enough to leave your wife.’

  ‘I’ve already explained to you what I represent, inspector. A great enterprise like the Zuriaga Foundation requires that one should make certain sacrifices. I chose to lead this horrid double life. I chose to deceive Mercedes all this time.’

  ‘And was it worth it?’

  ‘Well, actually, I think it was, inspector. At least, that was the idea, even if at times I was tempted to openly speak to her about my … shall we say, inclination.’

  ‘Why didn’t you?’ asked Caldas.

  ‘Tell Mercedes? For several reasons, but in the first place, because Luis wouldn’t let me. He encouraged me to carry on with my main projects – the Foundation and my marriage.’

  They walked and talked like Peripatetics, along the path bordering on a coppice of box trees. Caldas listened to Zuriaga’s explanations with the feeling that he was before a crumbling giant.

  ‘How long have you led this double life, doctor?’

  ‘In a way I’ve always known, but I didn’t take the plunge until Luis turned up. I’ve never wanted to go to a certain type of bar. I’m too old to brandish a flag or mix in some absurd, superficial ambiance.’

  This man with snow-white hair had little in common with the one who’d called to denounce Estévez’s misconduct at the Idílico.

  ‘Could I ask you how you met Reigosa?’

  ‘At a jazz festival sponsored by the Foundation. We talked after the concert, then there was a dinner party and then

  ‘When was that?’

  ‘About three years ago.’

  ‘And are you sure your wife doesn’t suspect anything? Three years is a long time.’

  ‘Mercedes? No, I don’t think so. I’ve never been a model husband. Always too busy for that.’

  ‘You do know Reigosa was killed, don’t you, doctor?’

  ‘Since his death I’ve been terribly depressed, cut off from the world. I’ve only left the house to go to the cemetery,’ he said.

  Caldas thought Zuriaga hadn’t proved so depressed when it came to complaining to Caldas’s superiors.

  ‘Do you know what formaldehyde is?’

  ‘Inspector, you’re talking to a doctor who’s head of a hospital. Of course I know what formaldehyde is.’

  ‘They used it to kill Reigosa.’

  ‘Did they put him to sleep?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  He didn’t want to explain any further. He’d have time during the interrogation at the station. He had enough on Zuriaga.

  ‘Shall we go back?’

  They did so in silence. The afternoon sun penetrated into the undergrowth, and the shadows of the trees made strange patterns on the ground. As the sun went down, the smell of the plants grew stronger.

  When they were near the house, the inspector decided to round off with one last question.

  ‘Does the name Orestes Grial ring a bell?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Take your time, doctor. You’ve already lied once.’

  The comment visibly annoyed Dimas Zuriaga.

  ‘I don’t know who Orestes is, inspector. I’m being honest with you now – there’s no need for sarcasm.’

  ‘Have you been here all day?’ asked Caldas, changing his approach.

  ‘I have indeed. I’ve already told you I haven’t left my property in days. Why do you ask me about this Orestes chap now, inspector? What does he have to do with me?’

  ‘Remember this morning I said I had a witness who knew about your relationship with Reigosa, doctor?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Those photographs I’ve shown you, the same ones you said you’ve received before, were
stored on Orestes Grial’s computer. We should’ve talked to him today, but he wasn’t able to come to our appointment. He was murdered. We found him in the bathroom of his flat. Someone shot him in the back of the neck when he was urinating. And the reason we were meeting, curiously enough, was to finish a conversation we’d started the day before on the subject of Reigosa.’

  ‘Luis?’

  ‘Do you know what the Idílico is, doctor?’

  ‘Yes, a gay bar, but as I’ve said I don’t go to that kind of place.’

  ‘Not you, but it seems your friend Reigosa dropped by every now and then. The boy who was killed worked there as a DJ.’

  Zuriaga was listening carefully.

  ‘Where are you going with all this, inspector?’

  ‘I don’t believe in coincidences, doctor. I would like you to come with me to the police station to make a statement.’

  ‘Are you arresting me?’ stuttered Zuriaga.

  ‘I won’t handcuff you, if that’s what you’re afraid of, but you should be thinking about contacting your lawyer. Two deaths might prove too much, even for a man like yourself.’

  ‘Two deaths?’ Zuriaga looked at him imploringly. ‘After what I’ve told you, you can’t seriously think I’ve killed Luis or that lad.’

  ‘I don’t think anything, doctor. I’m only doing my job. And I’ll be happy for you to prove your innocence. Of course, I could leave now without you, but with the evidence we’ve got I’d be forced to come back before long with an arrest warrant signed by a judge.’

  The doctor remained silent for a moment, as if gauging the situation. ‘Let me get my coat,’ he muttered with a resigned expression.

  Caldas looked on as Dimas Zuriaga dragged his feet towards his majestic stone mansion.

  ‘Doctor!’ he called out.

  Zuriaga stopped and turned round.

  ‘If you want to speak to your wife … I’m not ruling out the possibility that nothing comes of this, but there’s a chance it’ll all get out. I think she’d be grateful if she heard it from you first.’

  ‘I’m not sure she’ll believe me,’ the doctor confessed. ‘But it’ll be a relief to finally talk to Mercedes.’

  Relationship

  Once in the police station they accompanied Dimas Zuriaga to a meeting room. They left him sitting on a sofa and offered him a cup of coffee from the coffee machine. The doctor may be a suspect, but his eminence required the greatest courtesy.

  Caldas and Estévez were summoned to Superintendent Soto’s office.

  ‘Will you tell me what the fuck Zuriaga’s doing here?’ greeted Soto with his usual kindness.

  Estévez sighed nervously, and Caldas started to speak.

  ‘It has to do with the death of Luis Reigosa, the musician who turned up murdered at the Toralla tower.’

  ‘I know who Reigosa is,’ cut in Soto. ‘I’m asking what the hell Doctor Zuriaga’s doing in my station. Do you know they expressly asked me to keep you away from him? Is this what you understand by staying away from someone?’

  Estévez hung his head, but Caldas was undaunted.

  ‘If it’s any consolation, we haven’t brought the doctor by force, sir. He decided to come with us of his own free will.’

  ‘Of course he did. And I bet he also asked for a very dark cell,’ spat Superintendent Soto, visibly agitated.

  ‘Sir, may I explain why the doctor’s here?’ Leo waited for his superior’s answer, but it didn’t materialise. ‘You may want to make something up when one of his minions, any moment now, calls up demanding an explanation.’

  The superintendent sat down and pointed to the chairs on the other side of the desk.

  ‘Go on,’ he ordered, ‘and keep it short.’

  The policemen sat down. Caldas put a closed envelope on the desk and launched into his account.

  ‘In a nutshell, Doctor Zuriaga had a relationship with Luis Reigosa for a couple of years …’

  ‘A relationship?’ interrupted Soto. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A relationship, sir, an … er … amorous relationship, if you want to call it that.’

  ‘Give me a break, Leo,’ exclaimed the superintendent, standing up and raising his arm in a theatrical display of disapproval. ‘Let me remind you we’re talking about Dimas Zuriaga.’

  ‘May I explain it or not?’ said Caldas tersely.

  The superintendent, seeing the inspector’s serious face, sat down again. Caldas interpreted this as a yes and started over.

  ‘Zuriaga and Reigosa had been in a relationship for the last three years. A secret relationship, hidden from the eyes of society and even from the doctor’s family. No one in his circle of friends and family knew of Reigosa’s existence. Now, about a month ago the doctor started receiving anonymous emails. Those emails, which were sent from fake addresses, had explicit photographs attached of him and Reigosa. Whoever sent them asked him for money in exchange for not going public with the images. The doctor, who is of course a very discreet man, and was distressed at the possibility that his secret might come out, decided to pay up.’

  Caldas, who played around with the envelope as he told his story, paused for a moment.

  ‘So far, I’ve done nothing but relay what Zuriaga himself has told me,’ he pointed out. ‘The doctor can confirm it to the last word.’

  ‘But where are you going with this, Leo?’ asked Soto. ‘You won’t tell me you’ve brought the doctor in so he can report he’s being blackmailed?’

  ‘No, sir. He’s here because we think he’s involved in the death of the musician at the very least.’

  ‘Have you not just told me he was his lover?’ The superintendent was visibly reluctant to deal with a problem as big as the one posed by the Zuriaga Foundation. ‘For the love of God, Leo…’

  ‘I’m trying to be as clear as I can,’ replied Caldas. ‘Now let me tell you my theory.’

  ‘Have you brought Zuriaga in on just a theory?’

  Rafael Estévez fidgeted in his chair.

  ‘For now it’s only that,’ confirmed Caldas.

  ‘Shit, Leo, you’ll be the ruin of me, of us all.’

  Superintendent Soto buried his face in his hands for a moment. After vigorously rubbing his eyes he looked at Caldas.

  ‘Go on,’ he ordered dryly.

  It was all that Caldas needed.

  ‘Once he got over the shock of the first email, Zuriaga concentrated on finding the sender. He needed time, and so, week after week, for as long as the blackmail lasted, he paid as instructed. But a powerful man like Zuriaga, with enough resources to make people talk, ended up discovering who was behind the operation, and did so without arousing the blackmailer’s suspicions. It took some time, four weeks or so, but he eventually found what he was after.’

  Estévez and Soto listened attentively.

  ‘Discovering the author of the blackmail was a far more painful blow to the doctor than actually being blackmailed,’ carried on Leo, ‘because behind the messages were the DJ of a gay bar – an amateur photographer – and none other than Reigosa, his lover.’

  Soto opened his arms, demanding more explanations.

  ‘The doctor’s deepest secret had been betrayed by the person he trusted most,’ went on Caldas, fighting interruptions. ‘First he was devastated, but his confusion and depression soon turned into hatred and a desire for revenge. Luis Reigosa had played with Zuriaga’s feelings and had taken advantage of them. The doctor wanted to get even, to cause as much pain as he had suddenly, and unexpectedly, suffered.’

  ‘Can you prove any of this fairy tale?’ asked Soto.

  The inspector opened the envelope he had in his hands, and took out the pictures he had printed at Grial’s flat.

  ‘This morning when we first paid him a visit, the doctor assured us he didn’t know Reigosa,’ Caldas pointed out, as he laid out the compromising photographs on the table. ‘Now he’s saying he lied to cover up the blackmail and keep the pictures secret.’

  Caldas allowed
a puzzled Soto to examine the images at length before he carried on with his explanation.

  ‘So Doctor Zuriaga waited for the right circumstances to get his revenge. Of course, he wanted to leave no trace, but he needed to get on to an island with restricted access and a sentry box guarded twenty-four hours a day, and he needed to get away unseen. But, you see, Zuriaga had been to Toralla a couple of times and knew that, when it rained, the guards waved familiar cars through without leaving the comfort of the sentry box. So the first rainy night was the perfect opportunity. The doctor arranged to meet Reigosa somewhere, and they drove across the bridge together in the saxophonist’s car. As Zuriaga had predicted, the security guard didn’t come out. He just raised the barrier for the car to move on, and didn’t notice that there was someone in the passenger seat. The darkness, the rain and the time of year, when the Toralla tower was empty of holidaymakers, made it very hard for anyone to see him that night.’

  Caldas interrupted his hypothetical story to make sure Soto was following. Soto simply waved his hand, motioning him to go on.

  ‘Once they were in the flat they had a couple of drinks like any other day. The doctor’s attitude, his killer instinct, which had served him so well in business meetings, didn’t arouse Reigosa’s suspicions. Feigning passion, the doctor tied Reigosa’s hands to the headboard of the bed. Reigosa was now at his mercy, and he discovered what was really going on too late. Zuriaga had coldly planned the most painful vengeance he was capable of imagining. Being a surgeon, he knew the devastating effect formaldehyde would have when injected into live tissue. After he heard Reigosa’s terrified confession of blackmail, he gagged him to stop him shouting. Then he injected formaldehyde into Reigosa’s defenceless penis, thus perpetrating his fatal revenge. You’ve seen the gruesome result of that injection in the autopsy room.’

  Superintendent Soto nodded gently.

  ‘As if one could forget it,’ said Rafael Estévez, who had a very clear recollection of the saxophonist’s genitals.

  ‘Well, with all this you can certainly prove that Zuriaga knew Reigosa,’ said the superintendent, holding up one of the pictures. ‘We’d even have a clear indication that he was being blackmailed. But we’re treading on thin ice here. To press charges against the doctor we’d need more than these conjectures. We’d need evidence.’