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The Domingo Armada Mysteries Box Set

Page 59

by Jefferson Bonar


  Julian stared at Lucas, as if making sure the apology was accepted before moving on. Lucas felt as though Julian was really listening to him this time, which was odd, considering how cruel he’d been just a few hours ago.

  “We should get a drink. There’s something I want to ask you. Come on, I think I still have some brandy in my room.”

  Without waiting for an answer, Julian stood and walked out of Lucas’s room, leaving the door open for him to follow.

  Lucas rose from his bed with trepidation. There was still a chance the other boys were waiting to pounce on him in the corridor.

  But there was something in Julian’s demeanour that made him want to follow. There had been cruelty there, but there was also kindness. Lucas could probably never be sure which side to Julian he was going to encounter. He knew he should be on his guard.

  Lucas rose and followed Julian into the corridor, which was almost pitch black except for the bit of flickering candlelight spilling out of an open door further along. Lucas followed it until he was standing in the doorway of Julian’s room. Inside, Julian knelt in a corner, wearing a mischievous grin as he pulled up a rug to reveal a trap door underneath.

  “My secret stash. Not even Marco knows about this stuff,” Julian said, then he opened the trap door to reveal a couple of brown bottles topped with corks.

  Lucas took a moment to consider the room, which was quite large, with big bay windows made of glass overlooking the leaves of the mulberry trees outside. Lucas reckoned in the light the view of the city must be stunning.

  Inside, the furniture was all French style and dripping in velvet and fancy engravings, slightly ruined by numerous red and brown stains. The bed was large enough for three people, and a large wardrobe sat in one corner, no doubt filled with fine clothes much like the ones Julian was wearing now, albeit loosely. Given how dishevelled Julian usually looked, Lucas was surprised to find the room so tidy.

  “Glasses, glasses…,” Julian muttered. He looked around the room. “They were right here! Damn that Federigo, he’s always putting things away. I was keeping those glasses here so I could find them!”

  “Federigo?” Lucas asked.

  “My butler. Mother required it in order to live in the pupilaje. She had heard rumours about the state of student’s rooms and wouldn’t let me come without one, which is very much like my mother, if you ever met her. The woman is incorrigible, but I do love her so. Now I have to deal with Federigo, who has an obsession with cleanliness that borders on madness. And for some reason, he is always putting my glasses away so I can’t…ah!”

  Julian had moved over to a writing desk under one of the massive windows, on which was a stack of textbooks, an expensive writing set with quill and inkwell, and a pile of blank paper ready for Julian to take lecture notes on. The desk looked like it had never been used, except for the upper drawer, from which Julian now produced two beautiful glass goblets. He held them aloft with two fingers.

  Julian wrestled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and spat it out toward the large fireplace that filled much of the left side of the room, plopping down on one of the large velvet couches and pouring a drink for him and Lucas.

  Lucas stepped into the room fully and took the drink Julian handed him. It smelled of brandy and Lucas tasted it, finding it much sweeter and less harsh than the brandy he’d tasted before.

  “Good, isn’t it?” Julian said as he finished off his glass in one swallow. “I stole it from my father’s cellar last time I was back home. A hundred ducats, that brandy cost him. And the funny thing is, he won’t even notice it missing. He never goes into that cellar. I’ve been stealing bottles from him for years.”

  Julian took a swig from the bottle, then filled his glass while Lucas sipped his. He’d never been one for brandy, or any drink, really. but he wanted to at least give the appearance he was participating. Besides, he needed to keep a clear head.

  “Tell me, Lucas. Have you ever considered going to university?” Julian asked as he lay back on the couch, cradling his brandy as if it were a baby.

  Lucas was sitting up straight on the couch opposite Julian, not letting himself entirely relax, holding his drink on his knees. He suddenly felt as though he should be lazing about as well, but it felt too extravagant. Who was he to relax like that in a room such as this? On a couch this expensive? In the company of a man from such a rich family…what right did he have?

  “It’s never really been possible for me. I could never afford it.”

  “Afford it? Who cares about the money? You can’t let such a petty thing get in the way of improving your life, my boy!” Julian cried out. It was the middle of the night, with the rooms of the other boys all around them. Yet Julian seemed to care little for waking them up.

  “Do you know what the original purpose of this colegio was? The founders of San Bartolomé, much like the founders of all the rest of the colegios, created it as a charity. They were designed to give poor boys like you the chance to go to university, to get yourself up out of the cesspit of your life of manual labour and be a real man!”

  Lucas wasn’t sure he’d call his life a cesspit. It had never seemed like that to him.

  “I’m the first to admit this purpose has been lost over the ages. San Bartolomé is mostly just a conduit for wealthy men like my father to ensure their offspring get all the same opportunities and privileges in life. But I like to think there is something of that charitable spirit still left in this place. I can feel the ghosts of the founders in these walls, and they are always reminding me not to completely lose sight of why we’re here.”

  Julian sat up, ignoring his drink for a moment. “What you showed me this afternoon was bravery. You stood there and took your beating like a man. And you need that if you’re going to survive in a university. You’re definitely smart enough as well, anyone can see that. It would be such a shame if you weren’t able to come here when you get old enough. You belong with us!”

  Lucas found himself brimming with pride. Could Julian really mean it? How could he not? There was no one else here to impress.

  “I want to help you do that,” Julian said. “Tell you what. Tomorrow, we’ll both go down to the registrar and sign you up as a student. I will cover the matriculation fee, don’t worry about that. Consider it an apology for what happened this afternoon. After that, you’ll officially be a university student. It’s the first step in the biggest journey of your life.”

  Lucas was enthralled at the idea of going to university. He’d never considered it before. But he found it hard to picture in his head.

  “But I’ve never even been to grammar school. Don’t you have to go to grammar school first?” Lucas asked.

  “Grammar school? Useless, if you ask me. All they care about is how well you know your Latin. That’s all they really teach you that’s any use. Do you know your Latin?”

  Lucas shook his head that he didn’t.

  “But you know how to read, right?”

  “Yes. My master taught me.”

  “If you can read, then you can learn enough Latin in the next few years to fake it. You shouldn’t worry about these things too much. Believe me, I can’t read Latin at all and they still let me in. It’s not that important for your studies, ultimately. Just get a tutor, like my father did. You pay him a little extra to tell your professors you’re studying hard to catch up with the rest of the students, and they leave you alone for the most part. The important thing is to matriculate as soon as you can, especially if you want to vote in the elections. You won’t want to miss that.”

  So that was what Julian wanted—his vote. Julian never stopped thinking about the elections, and it seemed he would go to any lengths, including paying Lucas’s matriculation fee, to win it for his candidate. Lucas felt disappointed. It was all a trick, in the end.

  Lucas had to keep his wits about him. This was his chance to get Julian to trust him. But he still felt let down. Why couldn’t all those things Julian said be true? Why was it
that everything in his world seemed to boil down to corruption, to people just wanting to serve themselves? Armada had warned him it was a danger of the job, that it was easy to despair about the lack of principles that seemed to rule the human beast. He’d warned Lucas never to lose sight that there were truly good, saintly people in this world as well. But they were rarely the ones who committed murder, and therefore never the ones they encountered.

  “Yes. Let’s do it tomorrow,” Lucas said, holding his glass up. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. Suddenly, the prospect of being inebriated appealed to him.

  “Great! Now let’s finish off this brandy. I’m far too sober to go to sleep yet,” Julian said, gulping down what was left in his glass in one go.

  Lucas finished off his glass as well and let Julian pour him another one.

  Chapter Ten

  Armada sat alone in his room, hoping Lucas was all right. They had agreed that Lucas would visit at ten o’clock most nights, so they could discuss the case and Armada could check in with how Lucas was getting on with the boys of San Bartolomé.

  But it was well past eleven now, and there had been no sign of the boy. He was sure Ambrosio would have come if anything truly grisly had happened, so Armada had no choice but to assume all was well and that perhaps Lucas fell asleep after having spent the day running around doing all the things Ambrosio asked. Lucas could be a bit too meticulous in that way. He always had been. The boy had probably tired himself out.

  Yet Armada still worried. He had never been quite sure of his decision to put Lucas at their mercy. Armada had never been to university himself, but he knew what they could be like from his own experience in the army. Soldiers had a tight bond, just as students did. It was what got you through difficult times. It brought you closer together, sometimes to the point where you usurp your own moral conscience for the good of the group. It was a dangerous aspect of the human mind, one that Armada had only realised was being exploited many years later.

  Lucas had grown up without ever having experienced this. Armada had always assumed this was a good thing, for Lucas had only his own wits to guide him through life. But this meant he’d never been tempted by such close friends and therefore probably didn’t have the tools to resist the worst of their influence.

  Yet it was the only way Armada could think of getting what he needed from Julian. And the case was the most important thing. It had to be, for if it wasn’t for the case, what was anything worth in this life? Even if it meant putting Lucas in danger, it had to be done. And Armada would have to make his peace with that.

  Armada was broken from his thoughts by an argument in the corridor outside his room.

  “It’s much too late, sir. You must come back tomorrow!” Armada heard the innkeeper yell.

  “Get out of my way!” a man’s rough voice barked.

  A moment later, there was a pounding on Armada’s door.

  Armada rose and walked to the door, being careful to pull the tarp back over his sherry barrel as he passed.

  He opened the door to find a man standing in his doorway that he could not see, as the candle was behind him, held by the shaky hand of the innkeeper in his night clothes. The innkeeper looked annoyed.

  “I’m sorry, Constable. I tried to stop him, but he refused to wait until morning.”

  The man smelled vaguely of mule dung, which told Armada all he needed to know.

  “It’s all right,” Armada said, holding up his hand. “I’ve actually been expecting this man. Come in.”

  The man stepped into Armada’s room, much to the chagrin of the innkeeper, who was obviously worried about their meeting ending in a noisy argument that would keep up his other guests.

  Armada closed the door as Teo stepped into the middle of the room and into the reach of Armada’s candle.

  “You must be Teo, the one who hassled the family of the deceased recently,” Armada said.

  “I had nothing to do with his murder. I only came for what I was owed. They said you had it. So, I’ll take my money now and be on my way.”

  “I have your money,” Armada lied. “But before you get it, I want answers.”

  Armada picked up the candle and held it close so Teo could see the green of his sleeves. As expected, Teo was startled to be in the presence of a law officer. But he squinted to quash the look of fear and lowered his voice to make it sound more menacing.

  “I don’t have any answers for you,” Teo sneered.

  “Oh, I think you do. You see, I know what Gregorio Cordoba was making, and I know you were transporting it for him and where. All of which is more than enough evidence to have you arrested tonight and hanged by morning.”

  Teo stared back at Armada, not moving. Armada was ready for a fight, as Teo didn’t seem the type to him to give up so easily.

  “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know that Gregorio blackmailed one of his students into collecting saltpetre for him in the dead of night. There’s only one thing you can make with saltpetre, and that’s serpentine. Gunpowder. Which means the only reason he would need you would be to transport it to a buyer. And I want to know who that buyer is.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Teo grumbled. “I was just helping him move a bit of furniture, that’s all.”

  Armada smiled. He was surprised Teo was still attempting to evade his questions. This man was either far more courageous than Armada had thought, or far more foolish.

  “Tell me, where is that accent of yours from? It’s very unusual.”

  “Galicia.”

  “You’re no gallego. I know that accent well. In fact, there is another accent I know well: Portuguese. Which is what yours is. Confirmed by this….” Armada held up the book of figures he’d stolen from Teo’s room.

  Teo eyes went wide.

  “Ladron! You were the one who stole my book!”

  “You are hardly in a position to accuse me of crimes. I have all the evidence I need to prove you are helping the Portuguese in their war effort. That makes it a crime of treason against the Crown and will mean your head.”

  For a moment, the only sound in the room was the wheezing of Teo as he breathed.

  “And don’t think you can flee. I’m sure you know the roads between here and Portugal quite well, but so does the Brotherhood chapter in Valladolid. Their trackers won’t rest until they hunt you down, no matter how long it takes. And we’ll make sure everyone you do business with knows we’re looking for you. How long do you think you’d last like that?”

  Teo sneered back at Armada. “What do you want, Constable?”

  “I want to meet Gregorio’s buyer.”

  Teo smiled. “Then I’m a dead man, either way. You know what they would do to me if I brought the Brotherhood to their door? It would be worse than a hanging.”

  “Then just tell me how long you’ve been working for Gregorio.”

  “About a year,” Teodoro said.

  “Any disputes between you and him? Did he ever not pay?”

  “Gregorio always paid, except for that last shipment a few weeks ago. He promised he would pay me as soon as the buyer paid him. Gregorio got his money but never showed to give me mine.”

  “Did he ever threaten to fire you? Or use someone else?”

  “I didn’t kill him,” Teo said.

  “Then you have nothing to fear in answering my question.”

  “He only ever did one shipment without me. I don’t know who, but it didn’t work out. No one knows these roads better than me.”

  “So, you’re saying he was paid for the next shipment, but he died before he could deliver?”

  “That’s right.”

  “How much was the payment?”

  “Three hundred ducats. It’s always three hundred ducats.”

  That was curious, Armada thought. What happened to the money Gregorio Cordoba received? It certainly didn’t go to his family. And if Teo didn’t have it….

  Armada thought of Aurelio. Could t
hat have been what this was all about? Money? Could Aurelio have killed Gregorio after seeing him receive the payment? Going by how gruesome the crime scene was described, it wasn’t likely. There was anger there, not greed. Greedy killers usually only did the bare minimum to kill their victims, for their minds were on other things. Killing someone for the sake of it required more motivation than that.

  “I have to meet the buyer.”

  “I told you. No.”

  “Fine, then just tell me who they are and where I can find them. I’ll go myself.”

  Teo chuckled. It was a wet chuckle, full of phlegm from the back of his throat that it took him a moment to clear. Years spent breathing the dust of the road could do that.

  “They’ll kill you before you get anywhere near their hideout. And then they’ll come looking for me. I’m the only one in town who knows where they are. It won’t be hard to work out.”

  “Hideout? So, they’re in Spain then. And I’m guessing not too far away. In a small pueblo perhaps? One that is on a road leading to the Portuguese border. A road, I’m guessing, that isn’t watched too closely by Spanish sentries.”

  “I’m not telling you anything.”

  “You will if you want your money.”

  The smile faded from Teo’s face.

  “How much is it worth to you, Teo?”

  “It’s not worth my life.”

  Teo made a move toward the door. A surprising move. Armada didn’t see Teo so easily walking away from the money he was owed. Was he really prepared to leave a debt unpaid?

  “It won’t be your life,” Armada said, catching Teo at the door. “I’ll tell them nothing.”

  “They’ll torture it out of you.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I’ve been trained to keep my mouth shut under torture.”

  Teo looked at Armada with a confused look. “You served?”

  “Nine years stationed in Peru. You learn a few things after that long in the jungle. Like how to withstand pain. A lot of pain.”

  “Yes…I know….”

  Teo’s expression softened into one that resembled respect. Armada hadn’t thought he might have also served in His Majesty’s army. It explained a lot about Teo. Ex-soldiers usually had trouble integrating back into normal life after returning home from war. It would explain why Teo preferred a solitary life on the road, far from the pressures and difficulties that a normal life of relationships would bring. It could also be why he had little fear of encountering sentries or bandits while traversing such a dangerous border. He most likely had little fear of death. In fact, the thought of it probably provided some degree of relief for someone so plagued by the horrors of his past and who felt so cut off from the rest of humanity.

 

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