Death on a Galician Shore (41 page)

Caldas tried again. ‘We’re determined to get to the bottom of things, but we need your help. You came to us once and we failed you,’ said Caldas. ‘Give us a chance to put things right.’

Neira spoke for the first time, ‘So you’re saying that for you to charge my mother’s killer I’ve got to confess to murder? And you claim you’re not like Somoza? You’re all the same.’

Caldas reflected that at least the silence had ended.

‘You smoke?’

‘No,’ muttered Neira.

Caldas lit a cigarette.

‘I’m not asking you to admit to anything you haven’t done.’

‘Well, I haven’t killed anyone.’

‘So tell me what happened. I’m prepared to listen.’

‘Are you? I’m honoured.’

‘And to believe you if what you say is credible,’ added Caldas.

Neira looked him in the eyes. ‘I had nothing to do with El Rubio’s death.’

‘You didn’t throw him into the sea?’

‘No.’

‘And you didn’t bind his wrists with that cable tie? Where did you get it?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘So it wasn’t you who daubed his boat with graffiti?’

‘Of course it was me. I’d been doing it for months. But that doesn’t mean I killed him.’

‘You’d been painting graffiti on the boat for months?’

‘I graffitied his rowing boat, left notes at his house, on his boat, in his traps. I wanted to get him off balance so he’d lead me to the man who killed my mother.’

‘Did you succeed?’

‘Almost.’

‘Almost?’

‘He was about to crack when he died.’

‘How do you know?’

‘You should have seen him. He can’t have been getting more than a couple of hours sleep a day. Until yesterday I was convinced he’d killed himself.’

‘Until yesterday?’

‘When you told me in the car how the cable tie was fastened.’

The day before, during the drive back to Vigo, Caldas had explained how they’d tracked Neira down, assuming that he’d confess when faced with the evidence. He’d been wrong.

‘Did you ever speak to El Rubio face to face?’

‘Face to face?’

‘Did you ever tell Castelo who you were?’

‘Of course I didn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I was scared of ending up like my mother.’

‘What were you going to do when you found the man who was with her?’

Neira looked Caldas in the eyes. ‘I wanted to ask him why,’ he whispered. ‘I wanted to ask him why he had to kill her.’

Caldas swallowed. ‘And then?’

Neira shrugged. ‘I’d have thought of something.’

He’d waited over thirteen years. He was in no hurry.

‘You should have come to us,’ said Caldas.

Neira smiled contemptuously.

The carpenter admitted what Caldas had guessed: he’d seen El Rubio on the news. Over a decade later, he’d found the fair-haired man of his nightmares staring at the camera self-consciously, holding up a tropical fish on a hook. He was a little heavier, but it was the same man who’d passed Neira as he sheltered from the rain on that night long ago. By the time he switched off the television, he’d decided to go and find work in Panxón.

‘Do you have a car?’

‘No, a motorbike.’

‘The one you were riding yesterday?

‘Yes.’

Caldas didn’t press him further. Ferro was in Panxón searching Neira’s house. If he had a car, Ferro would find it.

‘What were you doing the evening of the Saturday before last?’

‘I was at home. I never go out in the evening,’ said Neira without hesitation.

‘Were you alone?’

‘With Charlie,’ he replied, and the inspector remembered the grey cat at the workshop.

‘Right.’

‘Could you do something for me?’ said the carpenter.

‘Of course.’

‘Would you have a word with Dr Trabazo and ask him to look after Charlie?’

Drawing on his cigarette Caldas assured him that he would, before continuing the interrogation. ‘When did you break down Valverde’s gate?’

‘What?’

‘You didn’t pull off those panels?’

‘My job is to fix things, Inspector, not break them.’

‘But damaging the gate gave you the perfect excuse to be alone with Valverde, one of the
Xurelo
’s crew.’

‘That’s true. But I didn’t do it.’

‘Were you intending to kill them all?’

‘I wasn’t intending to kill anyone,’ he said. ‘It was them who killed my mother.’

‘I can understand how you feel—’

‘How can you understand?’ Neira interrupted scornfully.

‘I assure you I understand better than you think,’ said Caldas quietly. He didn’t say that he, too, sometimes got up in the middle of the night to look at a photograph because he’d forgotten someone’s smile.

Neira lowered his eyes.

‘Tell me what happened with Castelo,’ said the inspector and, deciding to offer him a way out, he added: ‘Was it an accident?’

‘I can’t tell you,’ whispered Neira. ‘Because I don’t know.’

Caldas was about to start all over again when there was a knock at the door and he was handed a yellow Post-it note: Marcos Valverde had arrived.

The inspector left the interrogation room and went to get his assistant.

‘You carry on,’ he told Estevez. ‘See if you can get him to tell you any more.’

Nodding, Estevez headed towards the closed door.

‘Hey!’ the inspector called just as Estevez was about to go in.

‘What?’

‘Go gently.’

‘José Arias was a heavy drinker. He had a more or less official girlfriend – Alicia, the teacher. El Rubio’s sister,’ said Valverde. Caldas nodded. ‘But by the third drink he’d forget all about her.’

‘Didn’t Castelo ever say anything?’

‘El Rubio had enough to deal with, coming off heroin. He was getting better, but wasn’t all the way there yet. We had some terrible times with him on the boat. Sousa was like a father to him. He forgave him everything.’

Keen to keep him to the subject of the shipwreck, Caldas asked, ‘So what happened at the bar?’

‘We sat outside, on a covered terrace where the owner had left our meal. The woman arrived just as we were finishing. She wanted to buy cigarettes, but the bar was closed. We offered her ours and she came to sit with us. Arias and El Rubio started making her laugh. Sober they were pretty quiet, but with a couple of drinks inside them they were funny. You’d never guess it, would you?’

Caldas shook his head. He hadn’t known Castelo, but Arias didn’t seem like much of a joker.

‘The girl was enjoying herself, but after a little while she said she had to leave. Arias and Castelo offered to walk her home. “We’ll make sure you don’t drown,’” I remember them saying. Because it was pouring with rain.’

‘What was Captain Sousa doing?’

‘He’d gone back to the boat to sleep as soon as we finished eating.
He was in his sixties. He always liked to turn in early when we put in to port.’

Inspector Caldas gestured for him to get back to the night in Aguiño.

‘They went off with the girl, but El Rubio came back pretty soon after. He couldn’t really compete with Arias when it came to women,’ smiled Valverde. ‘We finished the wine and left.’

‘Back to the boat?’

‘Yes. We sat in the cabin, resting. The skipper was already snoring in his bunk.’

‘When did Arias get back?’

‘He turned up about an hour or so later. He woke El Rubio and asked him to go ashore. I was half asleep, but I saw them leave.’

‘Didn’t you think it odd?’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘They were close. I thought they were going to carry on partying, like other times.’

‘When did they return?’

‘I don’t know how much time passed, Inspector. Around dawn, I was woken by the skipper yelling so I went up on deck. Sousa was furious, saying who did they think they were, casting off without his permission.’

‘How did they respond?’

‘El Rubio told him to keep quiet, but Arias didn’t say a thing. He just carried on unmooring the boat, ignoring Sousa. You’ve seen him,’ said Valverde, raising his arms. ‘Well, fifteen years ago, he was even scarier.’

‘I can imagine.’

‘But Captain Sousa didn’t scare easily. He stood up to them. He insisted that the
Xurelo
wasn’t leaving port unless he said so, and he tried to retie one of the loose mooring lines, but Arias pushed him aside. The skipper fell over but he still wouldn’t be intimidated. He got to his feet and faced Arias. He asked what had happened with the girl to make them want to get away. Then Arias hit him – several times on the head with a bottle. We threw ourselves at him, but by the time we stopped him the skipper was unconscious. Arias took him aft while El Rubio cast off.’

‘And what were you doing meanwhile?’

‘Surviving,’ he murmured. ‘I thought we were going to head into
the estuary, to shelter from the storm. But El Rubio set a course south. Arias handed me a life jacket and told me to get ready to swim. I asked what they were going to do. He just told me to put on the life jacket and go into the cabin. He went aft along the gunwale.’

Valverde paused and snorted as he had the night before outside his house. Then he went on, ‘There was a bundle on the floor, wrapped in a dark polka-dot blanket. He tied it up with a rope at either end and wrapped a chain around it. As we rounded the jetty, he threw it overboard. I thought it must be the skipper’s body and I started crying. The waves were getting really big. Arias went back to the cabin and took the helm, steering towards Salvora. When we were only a few dozen metres from land, he yelled to us to get ready. A few seconds later the three of us jumped into the water and started swimming for shore. As we reached it we saw the
Xurelo
hit the rocks. It sank soon after.’

Valverde snorted again.

‘Before we set off towards the village to report the sinking, Arias made us rehearse the story I told you the other day: that we were heading back with a full hold on the skipper’s orders and were caught in the storm, and that the boat hit rocks and went down before Sousa had even had time to put on his life jacket.’

‘Right,’ murmured Caldas. ‘Rebeca Neira, the woman in the bar – was she on board?’

Valverde nodded. ‘I didn’t see her. But when the skipper’s body turned up in the nets of that trawler I realised it was her that had been in the blanket that Arias dumped overboard.’

Caldas got to his feet. ‘You’ll have to repeat all this in front of a judge.’

‘I know,’ replied Valverde, looking at him with shining eyes.

Caldas wasn’t sure whether it was remorse, fear or a sense of deliverance he could see in them.

Caldas went to see Superintendent Soto and filled him in on what Valverde had just said.

‘How did you get him to talk?’

‘He realised he’d have to sooner or later,’ said Caldas. ‘He knows we’re going to reopen the investigation and he chose to make a statement without Arias being there. I don’t think he could have done it otherwise. He’s terrified of him.’

Soto nodded.

‘Will you speak to the judge?’ asked Caldas.

‘I’ll do it today,’ said Soto. ‘Did you record Valverde’s statement?’

‘Yes, of course,’ replied Caldas with a tight-lipped smile.

‘How’s it going with Neira?’ asked the superintendent.

Caldas shrugged.

‘Estevez is trying to get something out of him, but so far he hasn’t let down his guard. He admits to the graffiti, but still claims he had nothing to do with Castelo’s murder.’

‘Do you believe him?’

‘No.’

Caldas went to his office. He slumped into his desk chair and rubbed his eyes. A moment later Ferro dropped by.

‘Any luck finding the car?’

‘No,’ said Ferro. ‘We’re still looking. I’m here about something else.’

‘Go on.’

‘José Arias has got a police record.’

‘Has he?’

‘For criminal damage,’ said Ferro. ‘He was arrested in 1995. He wrecked a bar in Baiona. It took two whole squads to overpower him.’

Caldas went back to the interrogation room and found Diego Neira with a red mark on his left cheek.

He approached Estevez and hissed in his ear, ‘I told you not to hit him.’

‘But he refuses to talk,’ muttered Estevez.

Caldas ordered his assistant out and sat down opposite Neira.

‘I’ve just seen Marcos Valverde,’ he said. ‘He’s told me about the night your mother disappeared.’

Neira looked into his eyes. ‘Who was it?’

‘They were all involved.’

‘Was it him?’

‘No, it was Arias.’

‘And you believe him?’

‘Yes. I think he’s telling the truth.’

The young man went back to staring at the wall, as if trying to bore through it. ‘Will you catch him?’

‘Yes, of course we will.’

‘Do you know where he is?’

‘We think he’s gone back to Scotland. The judge is willing to issue a warrant to get him back. Then he’ll pay for what he did.’

‘Did Valverde tell you where my mother is?’

‘He thinks she’s at the entrance to the harbour at Aguiño.’

‘In the sea?’

‘Yes.’

Neira looked at him. He seemed calmer now. ‘Will you look for her?’

‘We’ll try,’ said Caldas. ‘But we can’t give any guarantees. It’s been a long time.’ Then he asked: ‘Did you used to have a polka-dot blanket?’

‘Yes, it was mine,’ said Neira. ‘It disappeared the same night as my mother. Why?’

The inspector did not reply.

‘Do you know, I even got to the point where I prayed she was dead?’ Neira confessed. ‘Anything was better than thinking she’d abandoned me.’

Caldas looked down and leafed through some documents to delay returning to the subject of Castelo’s murder.

‘If you’re innocent, why did you try to run away yesterday at Valverde’s house?’

‘I’ve told you, I’m not too fond of the police.’

Caldas moved his chair closer to the table.

‘Here’s what I think happened: you met up with Castelo on Saturday night. You’d arranged it in one of the notes you left him. You thought he needed to talk, to unburden himself, but he refused to tell you what happened to your mother. You made some excuse and went to your car. You took a spanner from the boot – the kind you use on wheel nuts – and you hit him on the head. Then you bound his wrists and went through his pockets, where you found the keys to his boat. You waited for him to come round and threatened to throw him into the sea unless he talked. Where did this happen?’