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The Domingo Armada Mysteries Box Set

Page 68

by Jefferson Bonar


  Emiliano didn’t respond to this either, but it didn’t matter. His expression told Armada he had him where he wanted him.

  “And I imagine one of the ways that could happen was if Vergara was charged with attempting to defraud the election by a constable of the Holy Brotherhood. Could it not?”

  Emiliano glared back at Armada, keeping his body stiff.

  “Now that we’re clear what is at stake, I want to ask you a few questions about Julian. The first, and most important, is how much he is paying you to help swing the election in Vergara’s favour.”

  “I’m not doing anything wrong. It’s all legal. Those students are poor, but they are on the rolls. They have every right to vote. They just don’t tend to bother, because they’re poor. We’re just paying them as a way of inspiring them to come out and—”

  “That’s not what I asked. How much is Julian de Benaudalla paying you? I want an amount.”

  “I told him a hundred ducats at least, possibly more depending on how many show up.”

  “And he has already paid you?”

  “The first hundred, yes. Most of the students demanded payment up front.”

  “And where did Julian get this hundred ducats from?”

  “He’s rich.”

  “His parents are rich. Julian is supposed to be living on a strict weekly allowance of a ducat a week. Which means the money he paid you came from somewhere else. And I want to know if that money had anything to do with Gregorio Cordoba.”

  There was a flash of surprise in Emiliano’s eyes. The firm conviction Emiliano had been speaking with began to melt away, replaced with a quiet desperation.

  “All I know is that Julian worked for him sometimes.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I don’t know. I never asked. It was obvious Julian didn’t want to talk about it. So I left it.”

  “Did the other boys in San Bartolomé know?”

  “I don’t think so. The only reason I knew is because I saw him wandering around down by the Arroyo de los Milagros one night. He confessed to me that he had a night job, but he was really embarrassed about it. He cursed his parents for not giving him more to live on. It was all to keep up the pretence of wealth, he said. Julian didn’t want the others to know he was so broke. It would have been humiliating. So he asked me to keep it a secret from the others.”

  Armada was tempted to ask what Emiliano himself was doing wandering around down by the workshop at night, but given how many prostitutes plied their trade in that area, Armada felt the question unnecessary.

  “Did Julian ever tell you when he started working for Gregorio Cordoba?”

  “Since our first year. Cordoba was his favourite professor. I’m not sure why. I didn’t think his lectures were particularly brilliant. But Julian adored him and starting talking to him after lectures. It wasn’t long after that he started working nights for him.”

  Armada, feeling a bit bad for the pressure he’d heaped upon Emiliano before, gave the man a bit of space and leaned against the writing desk now. The veneer of secrecy had been broken. To continue his tactics now just seemed cruel.

  “So, what went wrong?”

  “I don’t know. Things seemed to be going pretty well up until a few months ago. One night, Marco came by and said Julian had holed himself up in his room for the last three days and wouldn’t come out. I went over to try and help, but Julian wouldn’t let me in. I had to get Ambrosio to unlock the door. Julian hadn’t eaten that whole time, hadn’t drunk anything, and looked quite pale. We were all worried for him. I asked him what was wrong. He’d mentioned they’d found something, that’s all. But he didn’t tell me what it was. Julian just said he was done working for Gregorio. After that, he seemed to just come back to life. But he stopped going to Gregorio’s lectures. I never saw Julian talk to him again, or even mention him.”

  “Three days in his room?” Armada wondered out loud. “How did he seem? Frightened? Ill? Angry? What was his overall feeling?”

  Emiliano considered the question carefully. “Frightened. At least, I think it was fear. I’d never seen him like that before. Or since. It was very strange.”

  “And he never gave you any clue about what might have happened between him and Gregorio Cordoba?”

  Emiliano shook his head. “No. Nothing. Although when I left his room that day, Julian was mumbling to himself. But it didn’t make any sense.”

  “Which was?”

  “He said he was going to kill that little thief, Aurelio. Over and over again. I’m going to kill him.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Armada wasted no time. He made his way across town to the home of Aurelio Martinez as quickly as he could, ignoring his rumbling stomach as he passed several bakeries and fruit sellers. It would have only taken a moment to grab something to eat along the way, but even that would have been distracting. His mind was furiously going through several scenarios, trying to see how Aurelio could possibly fit into the story of the breakdown of Julian and Gregorio’s working relationship. He’d never thought to assume Aurelio had been there for the incident. It raised so many questions.

  “You should leave,” a man said, standing firm in the doorway.

  “I’m here to speak to your son,” Armada replied to the man, who had introduced himself as Aurelio’s father, Pepe. He was holding a boot he’d been in the middle of cleaning and leaning awkwardly against the door, as if his body couldn’t quite hold up his own weight.

  “She’s just put the baby down. It’s not good to disturb her now.”

  Armada wasn’t sure if he meant Angeles or the baby.

  “I don’t need to disturb anyone but Aurelio.”

  “I said no.”

  Pepe pulled himself back inside and went to shut the door, but Armada blocked it.

  “It is imperative that I speak to him. And I know Aurelio is home, I can see the candle burning in his bedroom window upstairs.”

  Pepe tried several times to shut the door, but Armada held firm. Finally, the door was wrenched open as Pepe checked the corridor behind him.

  “Please,” he said, his eyes pleading. “You don’t understand. This whole thing has been very hard on her. And she doesn’t handle it well. Just leave. Please….”

  Pepe leaned closer to Armada to make his point, at which point Armada could see an old scar at the bottom of his neck, poking out just underneath his shirt collar. There was another, a tiny nick, above his eyebrow, and another along the back of the hand holding the boot.

  “Pepe? Who is there?” came Angeles’s voice from behind him.

  There was a moment of panic in Pepe’s eyes, then he smiled.

  “No one important. Just Silvia. She wants—”

  “It’s Domingo Armada,” Armada called loudly. “I’m here to speak to your son.”

  Angeles went to the door, not having to say anything to move her husband out of the way.

  “As my husband said, he isn’t here.”

  “I know you want to protect him,” Armada said. “But there is a killer on the loose in this city, a killer who knows him. If I don’t catch the man, your son might be in danger, as well.”

  Angeles glared at Armada for a long time, letting it get awkward before she spoke again.

  “I won’t risk it. You don’t know how hard we’ve had to work to give our boy this chance. He is the only one of us to have ever gone to university. I work all day, sewing until my fingers bleed, and then wash clothes down at the lavadero all night. Pepe works at the mill so long he can hardly stand. And that just barely gets us by. But now our boy can go do something respectable with his life. And you want to risk all that by involving him in this mess about a junior professor that Aurelio had nothing to do with? Well, I’m sorry that man was killed, but it’s too much to ask. I won’t do it.”

  “If I leave now, I will have little choice but to return with other constables,” Armada said. “You will be arrested and charged. I’d prefer not to have the rest of this conversation
through the bars of a jail cell.”

  Armada took his hand from the door, making it possible for Angeles to close the door in his face at any moment.

  Now it was Angeles’s turn to show panic in her eyes for a moment.

  “You’re not talking to my boy. You can talk to me instead. I know everything he does. But only until the baby wakes. Then, the interrogation is over.”

  Armada was growing impatient with this, but then realised not only that what she said probably true, but there might be an opportunity here. No one was more observant of a man’s behaviour than his mother. She might have seen him say or do things she didn’t understand, things Aurelio may want to have kept from Armada. It was a strange request, but one worth pursuing. He could always catch Aurelio coming out of one of his lectures later, if he needed.

  Armada agreed and was reluctantly allowed into the house. It looked like it had been a busy morning. With Aurelio working upstairs and the baby sleeping, she’d been doing a bit of sewing quietly in the chair by the front window. Her husband returned to cleaning his boots in the corner and would soon be off to a long shift at the mill, leaving her alone with the myriad of duties such households demanded, meaning quiet moments to herself were probably rare. With the baby having just gone to sleep, was he intruding upon one now?

  Angeles made no effort to offer him anything or to give him a place to sit. She simply took her seat in the chair by the window and went back to her sewing as if he wasn’t standing there. She saw no reason to make him feel more comfortable.

  “A few weeks ago, did you notice any kind of change in Aurelio’s demeanour?” Armada asked.

  “What kind of change?”

  “Did he seem…frightened of anything? Did he behave in a way that wasn’t normal?”

  “No,” Angeles said without looking up. “The only thing my boy is frightened of is the dark. Won’t go to sleep without a candle burning. It’s been like that ever since he was a baby. Costs us a fortune.”

  “He didn’t seem angry or distracted at all?”

  “No. And believe me, if he was, I would have noticed. That boy can’t hide anything from me, even when he thinks he can.”

  Armada believed Angeles. Which meant Julian had been afraid of something just before Gregorio was killed, but Aurelio hadn’t. What could have frightened Julian, but not affected Aurelio at all?

  “What about Julian de Benaudalla? Did Aurelio ever mention him? Did he ever come here?”

  “That Julian is the devil’s child!” Angeles said with a bit too much intensity, slamming her sewing down on her lap. She took a moment to calm herself, looking somewhat embarrassed. “He’s the worst of the lot of those San Bartolomé boys. He’s the one that ostracised my Aurelio from their little group, saying he wasn’t really one of them, that he was poor and didn’t deserve to be there. My Aurelio has as much right to be there as the rest of them! We’ve paid the fees. And those boys are supposed to help each other in their careers after university. Isn’t that how the system works? You all help each other advance. But they won’t do that for my Aurelio now, not if Julian tells them not to. They’re like sheep! Now, because of Julian’s grudge, my boy’s career as a letrado might be over before it’s even begun.”

  It made sense, but it was hardly something worth threatening to kill over. Also, it didn’t explain why Julian had accused Aurelio of being a thief. Yes, Aurelio was stealing saltpetre from the wealthier residents of Salamanca. But why would Julian get so angry about it? There had to be more to that.

  “So, you’ve met Julian de Benaudalla? Has he been here?”

  “A few times, maybe. But not lately. There was a time when Aurelio was trying to impress him, to be let into their little group. But he realised that was futile quite a while ago. Hasn’t mentioned him since.”

  Armada thought it was still a strange coincidence that they both ended up working for Gregorio Cordoba all the way up until his murder.

  “What about Aurelio’s night job? Has he ever mentioned that to you?”

  “I knew he was working to help his father, who’s suffering a lot these days, poor dear. I can’t get that man to stop working, even though it’s killing him. He’ll put himself into a grave soon if he doesn’t slow down.”

  Angeles smiled at Pepe, who only briefly glanced up, just enough to acknowledge he’d heard what she said, before returning to cleaning his boots with a quicker pace.

  “Did he ever tell you what his job was? Or who he was working for?”

  Angeles went oddly silent, focusing on her sewing as if it was a particularly difficult bit. But Armada could tell it wasn’t. She was stalling.

  “Did Aurelio ever mention that he was working for Gregorio Cordoba? Do you know who that is?”

  Angeles took a long breath. “Yes. And I know exactly who Gregorio Cordoba is. A criminal. A thief! Always trying to blackmail people to get them to do what he wants. What kind of a person does that? He threatened my boy from the moment he met him, always saying he was going to tell Aurelio’s benefactor everything and she would cut him off. Gregorio knew Lady Florentia was our lifeline, that she was the reason all of this was possible. And he said he would tell her things, horrible things, and she would cut him off and we would have to go back to our old lives. That’s why my boy had to work for him, for almost a year now! He didn’t want to. He was just trying to protect us, to protect his future.”

  “Where was he the night Gregorio Cordoba was killed?”

  “Here. Studying, as always. I saw him when I came back from the lavadero.”

  “You always do washing at the lavadero at night?”

  “It’s the only time I have to do it. It’s up on a rise overlooking the river, so the moonlight is usually enough to work by.”

  There was a cry from the other side of the room. The baby had awoken as a result of Angeles’s outburst. Angeles rose from her seat.

  “So, Gregorio Cordoba knew this Lady Florentia?”

  “He said he did.”

  “Did he ever say anything to her in the end?”

  “If he did, we never heard about it. But we rarely hear anything from her. She’s a recluse. Lives just outside a pueblo called Valdunciel to the north, in a big villa. She prefers her privacy so we don’t have much contact with her.”

  The baby, sensing the tension in the room, began to squirm about and cry.

  Pepe glanced at Armada with an anxious look, then to Angeles. His body was tense, like he didn’t dare move for fear of attracting attention to himself.

  Armada rose and followed Angeles to the corner of the room where the basinet was.

  “Do you know what Gregorio Cordoba was working on? What he was hiring Aurelio to do?”

  Angeles picked up her baby and tried to comfort it in her arms.

  “I’m afraid that’s it, Constable. The baby is awake.”

  “Just answer my question and I’ll go.”

  “That wasn’t our deal.”

  “I’m breaking our deal. Did you know what Gregorio Cordoba was doing?”

  The baby clawed at her mother’s breast, hungry and wanting to soothe. Her mother glanced down, unable to feed the child until Armada left.

  “I’m no fool, Constable. I know it was illegal, whatever it was. And it forced my boy to do things he didn’t want to do. And I would have loved nothing more than to turn Gregorio in to the authorities. But it would have risked my boy’s future. Right now, nothing is as important than that.”

  Was it possible Aurelio killed Gregorio to stop him from blackmailing him? He certainly had the motivation. But his mother had said he was with her the night Gregorio was killed. And he hadn’t seemed at all frightened or distracted at the same time Julian was. Going by the evidence he had, it would seem Aurelio had nothing to do with any of this. He certainly wasn’t acting like a killer would in these circumstances.

  Armada knew from experience that having the motivation to kill someone was no measure of one’s guilt or innocence. Aurelio had been working f
or Gregorio for almost a year without ever killing him for blackmail, which suggested Aurelio had been fine with the arrangement all that time. If Aurelio was the killer, then something dramatic must have changed very recently to motivate him to do it. And very possibly, that motivation had something to do with whatever had frightened Julian several weeks ago.

  There was only one person Armada knew of who could clear everything up.

  Armada went to the stairs and began to climb.

  “Hey!” he heard Angeles cry, but with the baby in her arms, she was unable to follow fast enough to stop him.

  Armada dashed up the stairs two at a time, turned, and burst into the door leading to Aurelio’s room.

  Inside, the sparse room was empty, with only a single candle left burning on a writing table that was devoid of any work.

  Angeles was suddenly in the doorway behind him, cradling her baby.

  “I told you, he isn’t here. Foolish boy, always wasting my candles.”

  Angeles went over to the table and blew the candle out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Although it was only a short walk to the meeting place, Lucas found time to do a lot of thinking. He hadn’t slept much that night, trying to get the smell from Gregorio’s office out of his nose. It was strange that it didn’t make him ill anymore, but it still echoed in his mind whenever he closed his eyes, as if remembering the distinct ring of a church bell. He swore he could smell it in every corner of the university, every corner of town, wafting through windows, drifting out of bakery ovens and candle shops and filling every back alley.

  And for what? So the old man could make some point about how murder was bad? Lucas was no foolish little boy anymore. He had seen more death than five boys his age put together. And yet Armada still thought he had no idea that what they were doing was important? It was insulting.

 

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