The Exile

by Mark Oldfield

  ‘Just a second,’ Mendez cut in. ‘She has a right to know what’s happening.’

  Del Rio looked up, annoyed at being interrupted. ‘Go ahead.’

  Galíndez saw Mendez’s expression and felt a sudden weight in her stomach. She thinks I did something wrong.

  ‘Ana,’ Mendez said, ‘this meeting is about a charge being brought against you. Comandante del Rio will go through it and you can comment or not, it’s up to you. You have the right to have a lawyer present, so if you want legal representation we’ll stop now and reschedule the meeting for a later date.’

  Galíndez looked across the table at the two men, confused. She’d known they’d want to review events at the Fuentes house, but had assumed it would be a formality since she’d risked her life to protect the children. No one had even mentioned that. Merche hit me. She hated me. That was what hurt most: not the slap but the anger behind it. What was she angry about?

  ‘OK.’ Rodríguez looked down at the paper in front of him. ‘First, we have a few questions about the incident at the Fuentes house.’

  ‘Are the capitán and his wife angry because of all the damage?’ Galíndez asked.

  ‘No,’ Rodríguez said, avoiding eye contact. ‘And there’s no problem about the men you killed in self-defence. We’ve spoken to the Fuentes girls and they corroborated your story.’ He met her eye. ‘To a point. But this is just a preliminary session. You don’t have to say anything until you’ve seen a lawyer.’

  ‘I’ve got nothing to hide.’

  Rodríguez shrugged. ‘I need to inform you of your rights first.’

  Galíndez felt the blood drain from her face. ‘I know my rights.’

  ‘Just listen,’ Mendez said. ‘He has to read your rights in case they decide to arrest you.’

  Galíndez stared at Mendez, her heart pounding. Mendez looked away.

  ‘According to the Ley de Enjuiciamiento Criminal article 520.2 the detainee must be informed of the charges resulting in his detention,’ Del Rio began.

  ‘Her detention,’ Mendez cut in.

  ‘Whatever.’ Del Rio shrugged. ‘Dr Galíndez, you have the right to remain silent, to refuse to answer questions and you may choose to speak only to a juez de instrucción.’

  ‘I don’t need an examining magistrate,’ Galíndez said. ‘I’ll answer your questions.’

  Del Rio glanced at his wad of papers. ‘You have the right not to incriminate yourself, the right to legal representation and the right to inform a family member of your arrest.’

  ‘I know all of that. Can we just get to the part where you tell me what I’m supposed to have done?’ She felt her temper rising.

  ‘In a moment.’ Del Rio nodded. ‘First, there’s the matter of the two dead men who were found in the bushes where the Fuentes girls were hiding.’

  ‘I didn’t shoot them.’ She swallowed, trying to ease the pain of speaking.

  ‘No one’s saying you did,’ Del Rio said, impassive.

  Rodriguez slid two photographs across the table. ‘You recognise these men?’

  ‘They’re the two corpses I found in the girls’ hideaway,’ Galíndez said, looking him in the eye. ‘I already said I didn’t shoot them.’

  ‘Want to know who these two are?’ Rodriguez asked.

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘This first one is Juan Luis Calderón, the husband of the Minister of the Interior,’ Rodríguez said, watching as her expression changed. ‘You know anything about him?’

  ‘I certainly do,’ Galíndez said, recovering from the surprise. ‘He’s been linked to a number of very questionable financial dealings, he’s also been under fiscal investigation in at least three European countries and the guardia civil have arrested him several times over the last two years on suspicion of corporate fraud. There’s also stuff about him attending parties with prostitutes but that didn’t constitute a criminal action.’

  ‘He was never formally charged with any of those things,’ Del Rio said.

  ‘What are you, his lawyer?’ She felt Mendez kick her leg.

  ‘How come you know all that stuff about him?’ Rodriguez asked.

  ‘I did some background checks.’

  ‘You must have done a lot of checking?’

  Galíndez gave him a sharp look. ‘He had a lot of background.’

  ‘So talk us through why you checked him out.’

  ‘I was carrying out my investigation into the niños robados,’ Galíndez began. ‘That led me to a health-care company called GL Sanidad. The chief executive wasn’t helpful when I questioned him so I asked to speak to the chairman of the board. It turned out the chairman was Juan Luis Calderón. So then I ran his name through our system.’ She looked at them defiantly. ‘I guess you don’t remember what real police work is like when you work on this floor?’

  Rodriguez smiled to himself.

  ‘What?’ Galíndez snapped. ‘I’m answering your questions and you’re being a smart-arse. What’s your problem?’ She closed her eyes, wishing she’d taken the tablets before she’d come in.

  ‘You’re answering the questions, Ana. But are you answering them truthfully?’

  ‘So I’m a liar now?’ She clenched her fists.

  Del Rio cut in. ‘You said you met the chief executive of GL Sanidad, Jesper Karlsson?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  Del Rio tapped one of the photos lying on the table. ‘But you don’t recognise him?’

  She looked again at the picture of the dead man. The gaping wounds to his face. ‘This is Karlsson?’ She sat back, twirling a strand of hair in her fingers.

  Mendez remembered the gesture from when Galíndez was sixteen, training at the dojo. A sign she was under pressure.

  Rodríguez sensed he’d got her rattled. ‘So what was your opinion of Karlsson?’

  ‘My opinion of both these men was very low. Frankly, Karlsson was a complete shit, as far as I’m concerned.’

  Mendez groaned and leaned forward, resting her face in her hands.

  ‘Joder, you think I shot them, is that it?’ Galíndez glared across the table at Rodríguez. ‘For fuck’s sake, it’s just a question of ballistics. I was armed with Capitán Fuentes’s pistol. Compare a bullet fired from his weapon to the bullets in those guys’ heads. It’s not difficult. Or is that something else you’ve forgotten since you moved to this floor?’

  ‘Calm down,’ Rodriguez said, ‘and don’t swear at us, please, we’re not swearing at you.’

  ‘Jesús Cristo.’ Galíndez slammed the table with her fist. ‘Don’t talk to me like a cop talking to a drunk on the street corner.’

  ‘You’ve got a temper, Ana,’ Rodriguez said, locking eyes with her. ‘And by the way, I am a cop and I’ll thank you to remember it. I don’t have to justify myself to people like you.’

  Galíndez leaned forward so quickly Mendez grabbed her arm, thinking she was about to attack him. ‘What do you mean, “people like you”?’

  Del Rio tried to calm things down. ‘Just help us here, Ana María. You have no idea why those two were at the Fuentes house?’

  Galíndez thought about it, remembering Rosario Calderón’s threats in the Retiro. ‘Maybe they were killed to send out a warning.’

  ‘That’s a lot of trouble just to warn someone like you,’ Rodríguez scoffed. He saw her expression and gave her a curt smile. ‘By which I mean a lowly forense like you. ’

  ‘It could have been a warning to someone else.’ Galíndez twisted the tendril of hair again. ‘Perhaps they decided to kill me after I asked Karlsson to put me in touch with Calderón. Maybe they realised the investigation was closing in on them?’

  Del Rio was writing in his notebook. ‘That’s an interesting idea, Ana. Thanks.’

  ‘So can I go now?’

  Del Rio looked up, surprised. ‘We’re not done yet. I said before you’re not a suspect for the killings,’ he glanced at Rodriguez, ‘even if it might have sounded that way. There’s another matter we want to discuss.’


  ‘Fine.’ Galíndez sat back in her chair. ‘So what is it?’

  He picked up an envelope from the table and took out a colour photograph. ‘I’m about to show you a photograph retrieved from Inés Fuentes’s iPhone. Sargento Mendez, as Dr Galíndez’s union representative, will you describe the photograph for the recording?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ Mendez said, angrily. ‘That’s your job. I know what it shows and I object to you asking me to do it. I’d like that protest placed on record, Comandante.’

  ‘So noted.’ Del Rio scribbled on his pad.

  ‘What photo?’ Galíndez looked at Mendez then Del Rio. Neither seemed to want to meet her eye. She leaned across the table and snatched the photograph. As she stared at it, she pressed her knuckles to her mouth. She was shaking.

  The two men waited in silence.

  Mendez looked down at her papers. ‘For fuck’s sake, one of you two do it.’

  Rodriguez reached over and picked up the photo, embarrassed. ‘The photo shows Ana María Galíndez, aged twenty-six, a resident of Madrid. The picture was taken at the house of Capitán Luis Fuentes in the guest bedroom. The location has been confirmed by witnesses.’

  Galíndez twisted a lock of hair tight, as if that might make the image go away.

  Rodriguez continued. ‘The subject of the photograph is naked. She’s kneeling on a small divan in front of a window, one arm outstretched towards a pile of what appear to be white towels. Her body is slightly twisted at the waist, exposing her—’

  ‘That’s enough,’ Mendez cut in. ‘You already said she’s naked.’

  ‘The point is,’ Del Rio said, ‘the photograph seems to be a glamour-type shot, with Dr Galíndez kneeling on the divan and displaying her... herself.’

  ‘Don’t...’ Galíndez whispered.

  ‘I agree. Let’s stop there.’ Mendez was raising her voice now.

  Galíndez sank back in her seat, suddenly unbearably hot.

  Del Rio took the photo from Rodriguez and slid it back into the envelope. ‘I’m sorry, but we had to make clear the basis of the charge.’

  ‘I want to place on record a request for this photograph to be marked with a unique identifier to prevent anyone making unauthorised copies,’ Mendez said. ‘Because if this appears on the net or in any other public domain or is used to harass Dr Galíndez in any way, the union will immediately instigate legal proceedings against the guardia and both the Internal Affairs officers present. Are we clear?’

  ‘We are,’ Del Rio muttered.

  ‘I came out of the shower.’ Galíndez’s voice was faint. ‘There was no towel in the bathroom so I went to look for one. I saw a pile of towels on the window sill. I knelt on the divan and leaned over to get one. When I got up, Inés was at the door, watching me.’ She wiped something from the corner of her eye. ‘She must have taken this as I reached for the towel.’

  ‘That’s your story?’ Del Rio interrupted. ‘I’d say the photo looks like you posed naked while an eleven-year-old girl took your picture.’

  Galíndez shook her head nervously. ‘That’s not what happened. Inés was just inside the door, staring. When I saw her, I wrapped a towel round me and told her to knock next time. I didn’t see her phone.’ She stopped. The explanation sounded lame, even to her.

  ‘You don’t have to say anything, Ana.’ Mendez put a hand on her arm. It was the first time she’d given her any comfort during the hearing and Galíndez gave her a faint smile of thanks. Mendez took her hand away.

  ‘That’s it for today,’ Del Rio said, getting to his feet. ‘We’re not going to charge you yet, Dr Galíndez. But be aware we’re thinking in terms of a count of indecent behaviour with a minor. We won’t arrest you, but if you do anything stupid between now and the court hearing, we’ll haul you in and you’ll stay locked up until the trial. No one wants to make this any more difficult than it has to be.’

  Galíndez blinked. Her world was falling to pieces.

  Del Rio reached over to the tape recorder and spoke briefly, terminating the interview before turning the machine off. He picked up a paper and read from it. ‘“Ana said I could take the photo but I shouldn’t show it to anyone, but Mamá saw it and she told Papá.”’ Del Rio gave Galíndez an icy look. ‘That’s part of the witness statement. You might like to bear it in mind when you think about how you conduct your defence. Obviously, a court will look unfavourably on a not guilty plea, if it means the minor has to appear in court.’

  ‘That’s outrageous,’ Mendez said. ‘You can’t tell a colleague whether she can plead guilty or not.’

  A colleague, Galíndez thought, not my colleague.

  ‘All off the record, Sargento,’ Del Rio said. ‘I’m just making Ana María aware of the seriousness of the charges.’

  ‘Oh God,’ a voice said. Galíndez realised it was hers.

  ‘Anything else you want to say?’ Del Rio asked.

  ‘She has no comment to make right now.’ Mendez took Galíndez by the arm and steered her to the door. She paused. ‘I take it that’s all?’

  ‘Not quite,’ Del Rio said. ‘I’ll need your ID card, please, Dr Galíndez.’

  Reluctantly, Galíndez took the laminated ID from around her neck and handed it over. She saw the small photo on the card, remembering the day it was taken. She bit her lip.

  ‘You’ll get this back if you’re cleared,’ Del Rio said. ‘Have you got a weapon?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Then that’s all for now, Dr Galíndez. Thanks, Sargento.’ Del Rio opened the door and Mendez led Galíndez out into the corridor. The door closed behind them.

  ‘I’m finished, aren’t I?’ Galíndez muttered.

  Mendez gave her a strange look. ‘What in God’s name were you thinking of?’

  ‘You don’t seriously think I let Inés take that photo?’

  Mendez didn’t answer.

  ‘Christ, you don’t believe me either, do you?’ Galíndez said. ‘Inés took the photo while I was getting a towel. I swear to God.’

  ‘You always had a wild streak, Ana. Remember when you used to come to the dojo?’

  ‘That was different. I was only sixteen. Inés came in without me knowing and took a picture. End of story.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell her parents that she’d burst in on you like that?’

  ‘I didn’t want to make a fuss about it. Besides, I didn’t know she’d taken a photo.’

  ‘Sure you didn’t have a rush of blood to the head? She hero-worshipped you and you got overexcited?’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. All we did that evening was practise a few moves on the lawn.’

  ‘So there was physical contact?’ Mendez groaned. ‘I don’t want to hear any more. You and me go back a long way but I can’t handle this. I’ll ask the union to assign someone else to your case. I’m sorry. You take the lift. I’ll use the stairs.’

  Galíndez twisted a piece of hair as she watched Mendez go down the stairs.

  ‘Dr Galíndez?’ Two uniformed officers came down the corridor. ‘We’ve got instructions to escort you from the building.’

  Galíndez nodded. All she wanted was to get outside.

  ‘Do you need anything from your office?’ These guys weren’t so bad, she thought as they towered over her in the lift. It wasn’t their fault.

  ‘I’ve got some sports kit in my locker... No, it doesn’t matter.’ Clearing out her locker would be such a final act she wasn’t sure she could handle it right now.

  They went with her to the exit. ‘Anything else we can do? Get you a cab or something?’

  Get me out of all this. ‘No, thanks. I’ll be fine.’

  Outside, she saw a normal day. People crowding the pavement, patrol cars pulling up, flashes of green and white as others drove away. Her mind whirled with things she should have said or done. Things that might have kept her from running full tilt into the shit.

  She almost turned back to look at the dark bulk of the HQ building one last time, to try
and accept she wouldn’t be coming back. But that meant acknowledging her worst fear had finally come true. The fear that had dogged her since she’d joined the guardia to follow in Papá’s footsteps. I’m a failure. Christ, people said it enough: Miguel was guardia through and through, shame about his daughter. They could add a postscript now: We knew she was no good.

  She kept walking, a question hammering in her head: why had Inés lied? Her fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms There was no use asking. No one would believe anything she said because their minds were made up the moment they saw that photograph. Christ, even Mendez thought she was lying.

  As she walked, she wondered about calling someone. She took her phone from her pocket and scrolled through her contacts, looking at the names one by one. Slowly, she put the phone back in her pocket.

  She was on her own now.

  29

  OROITZ, OCTOBER 1954, PENSIÓN ARALAR

  The door to the pensión was open. There was no reply when Guzmán called Señora Olibari’s name and he went in. Moving quietly through the hall, he passed the big dining room where he had eaten so well a few days earlier. A chair had been moved away from the table, he noticed. One chair. He drew the Browning and went in search of Señora Olibari.

  At the back of the house, he found the old lady lying face down beneath the open wall safe, still clutching a German Luger. Guzmán whistled in admiration. So the old girl was one of Gutiérrez’s agents. Out of practice though, since the fake Viana had anticipated her intentions and put a bullet in the back of her neck once she’d unlocked the safe. Even so, she’d managed to cut the phone cable before he got to her. Guzmán had quite liked the old battleaxe. She spoke her mind and was a formidable cook. Viana would suffer for this.

  The safe was empty. That meant Viana had the file. Without it, Guzmán didn’t have a clue what Gutierrez wanted him to do. He put a hand on Señora Olibari’s arm. She was still warm. It was possible Viana might still be nearby. He thought for a moment, trying to imagine Viana’s next move. Without doubt, he would need to inform his bosses of the contents of the file. To do that, he would have to use the phone or the radio at the guardia cuartel.