The Exile (47 page)

‘Very cryptic.' Isabel nodded. She went back to her work.

Galíndez felt suddenly elated. Guzmán operated in total secrecy, and yet she'd discovered something he wanted kept hidden. Wanted it so badly he'd had the cellar sealed up in the middle of an offensive. She put her hand on the back of her neck, kneading the tense muscles, trying to think why these prisoners could be so important they'd had to be killed and entombed like this. Guzmán had even discarded his sword, presumably thinking no one would ever find it. He thought sealing up the cellar was enough to hide his monstrous crime. But he was wrong, there was something he hadn't anticipated: her.

She glanced at her watch. ‘I'd better get going, I'm meeting the minister at one thirty.'

‘Maybe she'll offer you a job in the government,' Isabel said, without looking up.

Galíndez went over to Isabel's desk. ‘Listen...'

Isabel looked up. ‘Why the long face?'

‘The other night...' Galíndez began.

‘I thought we agreed to forget it?'

Galíndez hesitated. ‘I overreacted.'

‘Well, you're allowed to.'

‘The thing is,' Galíndez said quietly, ‘I've had a lot of stuff going on this last year.'

‘That's an understatement.'

‘I don't like talking about it,' Galíndez went on. ‘I just wanted you to know why I reacted that way.' She looked down. ‘It's hard for me to talk about stuff like this.'

‘There's no need to tell me anything, Ana. You almost died in an explosion, you were in hospital three months, spent several more on sick leave and then you worked in Vice, pretending to be a prostitute.' Isabel's smile faded. ‘And you're still grieving for Natalia.'

Galíndez looked at her, wide-eyed. ‘What are you, psychic?'

‘It doesn't take much figuring out.' Isabel shrugged. ‘In any case, from 2000 to 2002 I had a late night show,
Tell it to Isabel.
If you ever want an agony aunt, here I am.'

‘It's not easy. The thing with Natalia was more complex than you think.'

‘Well, if you want to talk about it, I'm here for you,' Isabel said. ‘Meanwhile, you'd better get going, you don't want to keep the minister waiting.' She turned back to her laptop.

Galíndez picked up her bag and went to the door. ‘
Hasta luego
.' She opened the door and turned, seeing the top of Isabel's head as she ordered their new desks. ‘You give up too easily,' she said and hurried out into the corridor.

Isabel looked up sharply. ‘Ana?' She jumped to her feet. ‘Ana, wait.' As she passed Galíndez's desk she saw a yellow plastic tube of pills on the floor and snatched it up before continuing her pursuit.

Isabel came out of the faculty building just in time to see Galíndez's car reach the gate, waiting to edge into the city-bound traffic. She waved the container above her head, trying to catch Galíndez's attention in the mirror, but her view was suddenly blocked as a blue Nissan pulled out from the visitors' car park and followed Galíndez into the heavy traffic.

MADRID 2010, PALACIO DE CRISTAL, PARQUE DEL BUEN RETIRO

The afternoon was humid and ominous dark clouds were gathering over the city as Galíndez walked along the gravel drive of Paseo Ferrian Nuñez towards the elegant nineteenth-century
palacio
. As she approached, she saw Rosario Calderón waiting near the palace, watching the fountain. The minister was smoking, moving her cigarette in impatient gestures as she watched Galíndez approach.

Rosario didn't waste time with pleasantries. ‘You were going to arrest Jesper Karlsson?' Her pale eyes were as cold as her voice. ‘Are you out of your mind?'

‘I still might arrest him,' Galíndez said, immediately defensive. ‘I also notice the chairman of the GL Board just happens to be your husband. I want to speak to him too.'

‘You have been busy.' Calderón scowled. ‘What led to you to GL Sanidad?'

‘There was a high incidence of child theft at clinics owned by GL during the dictatorship. When I told Karlsson about it, he wasn't interested and tried to go over my head. I think he knows more than he's letting on.'

Calderón gave a contemptuous wave of her hand. ‘Coincidence.'

‘There was also a high death rate amongst complaining parents,' Galíndez said. ‘Far too high to have occurred by chance. Señor Karlsson didn't seem to take it seriously. He will now.'

‘This isn't what I asked you to do,' Calderón said, staring at her.

Galíndez felt her anger growing. ‘I did exactly what you asked. I've uncovered large-scale homicide linked to the theft of children.'

‘I say a lot of things,' Calderón snapped, ‘I'm a politician. It doesn't necessarily follow that I mean any of them.'

‘I did everything I could to complete the brief you gave me,' Galíndez muttered, trying to keep her anger in check. ‘Just what did you expect?'

Calderón smiled. ‘I expected you to fail, Ana. Just like you did last year.' She threw the cigarette to the ground and crushed it with her heel. ‘Everyone would have been happy then.'

‘You thought I'd fail?' Galíndez asked, incredulous.

Calderón looked straight through her. ‘It's time I told you the facts of life.'

‘I think I've got a grasp of those, thanks.'

‘I'm sure, from what our background checks turned up.'

‘You ran checks on me?' Galíndez's dark eyes flashed, furious.

‘The secret service is part of my little empire,' Calderón said. ‘I always like to be sure I know who I'm dealing with. Though, to be honest, all those one-night stands and broken relationships don't make exciting reading.'

The humid air was suddenly oppressive. ‘Fuck you,' Galíndez said, angry.

Calderón glanced round, suspiciously. ‘You have to drop the investigation.'

‘Drop it?' Galíndez echoed. ‘Why?'

‘You've pissed off people who take a great deal of interest in the fortunes of GL Sanidad. They'd rather no one went poking around in their archives. Leave the skeletons in the closet, so to speak.' She smiled, maliciously. ‘No offence there,
querida
.'

‘Who are these people?'

Calderón pursed her lips. ‘You might call them an interest group, I suppose. They have a simple aim: to get on in life without worrying about some young
guardia civil
like you rummaging around in their secrets.'

Galíndez stared at her. ‘Does this group have a name?'

Rosario Calderón snorted with impatience. ‘Haven't you ever heard that old saying, “Speak of the devil and he'll appear”? You really don't want to know, señorita, believe me.'

‘Tell me who you're talking about.'

‘I'm not talking about anyone, because this conversation never took place,' Calderón said, lowering her voice. ‘Let me give you a little background. I became a Member of Parliament at thirty-six. I was hard-working with a reputation for attention to detail. Despite that, I was passed over for promotion for the next four years, no matter how much I worked. Eventually, I realised the only way I could make any impression on my party was on my back.' She laughed. ‘Not always on my back, but you get the idea.'

‘Too much information.'

Calderón ignored her. ‘I only focused on people who could help my career.'

Galíndez looked at her with disdain. ‘You know what that makes you?'

‘Pots and kettles. You haven't exactly lived the life of a nun,' Calderón sneered. ‘Anyway, back to the story, one day I was approached by the group I mentioned.'

‘Don't tell me. They made you an offer you couldn't refuse?'

‘They made me an offer all right. One that I didn't want to refuse. They saw my drive and ambition. I was—'

‘Corrupt?'

‘Open to new ideas.' Calderón frowned. ‘I did things for them in Parliament, made sure votes went in certain ways, introduced new legislation, weakened resistance to their projects.'

‘And you were paid, no doubt?'

‘Money was only part of it,' Calderón said, lighting another cigarette. ‘Suddenly, doors started opening for me. Before I knew it, the Prime Minister wanted me as Minister of the Interior.' A brittle laugh. ‘I have control of the police and civil guard.' She looked straight at Galíndez. ‘You work for me,
querida
. How's that for irony?'

Galíndez didn't speak.

‘When I asked you to investigate the
niños robados
,' Calderón went on, ‘you had those great ratings in popularity polls despite that air of being so fucking holier-than-thou. The public like their experts to be good looking, so those big brown eyes made you ideal for my purpose. Or would have, if you hadn't done such a good job.'

‘So what happens now?'

Calderón shrugged. ‘We're in trouble. My friends aren't happy about you drawing attention to GL. That medical group is important to them.'

‘Why?' Galíndez frowned. ‘They aren't stealing babies any more.'

‘A great deal of money passes through GL,' Calderón said. ‘It makes it easy to shift money from EU grants, channel it into research funds and then transfer it around the system until it reaches a point where it disappears into a Swiss bank account.' She saw the look on Galíndez's face and mistook it for bewilderment. ‘Don't worry, Ana. I'll still help you. As long as you do the right thing, of course. You do want to do the right thing, don't you?'

‘Oh yes,' Galíndez agreed, thinking hard.

‘Think strategically,' Calderón advised. ‘Just think of this moment in your life as a battle. You're surrounded and outnumbered. No chance of reinforcements. What do you do?'

It was a good question. One Galíndez had heard before. She saw herself twelve years earlier in the dojo. Barefoot, in her white karate tunic and trousers
,
holding a long wooden stick. A couple of metres away, her friend Fran, also armed with a stick. Watching them was their instructor, Mendez, alert and ready.
This is a battle
, she told them.
Just me against your army. Two against one. Good odds, no?

And every time, a flurry of sticks, flailing hands and kicking feet resonating through the dojo as Mendez dumped them on their
culos
yet again.

‘You surrender, that's what,' Calderón said, answering her own question. ‘And I'm going to tell you the terms of surrender, Ana María.'

Galíndez remembered cold rain slanting through the street lights as she waited outside the dojo. Waiting to ask Mendez for the secret that enabled her to beat her and Fran week after week, without them ever landing a blow.
You said I could ask any question I like, Mendez.

‘Destroy all those letters you got from Adelina Solano,' Calderón continued. ‘And all your computer files.' Her voice was confident. ‘That will save your life.' She gave Galíndez a penetrating look. ‘And mine as well. Are you listening?'

Galíndez didn't speak. In her mind she was sixteen, standing in a dark side street in Lavapiés with Mendez towering over her, her Afro glistening with rain.
Why would I tell you that, niña?
Her eyes bored into hers.
I need to learn if I'm going to get better, and I can't learn alone.
Mendez nodded, weighing up her response.
Good answer, kid.

‘
Hola
?' Calderón's tone was mocking. ‘Pay attention. You don't want to end up like Adelina Solano, do you? Drop the investigation, Ana, or they'll kill you. You and that bimbo who used to be on the radio, the one with the big tits and perfect teeth.'

Mendez's words came back to her.
Strike where the enemy least expects it. Fast.

‘
Puta madre
, listen to me, will you?' Calderón was shouting now. ‘Are you stupid?'

She waited for a response. ‘Tell me you know what you've got to do, will you?'

Galíndez took her phone from her pocket and scrolled to her contacts. She looked at Rosario without speaking. When she did, her voice was icy. ‘I know exactly what to do.'

‘What are you doing?' Calderón asked, suddenly uneasy.

‘I'm calling Uncle Ramiro. You probably refer to him as General Ortiz, I imagine.'

‘Ramiro Ortiz?' Rosario's eyes bulged. ‘Are you insane?' She snatched at the phone but Galíndez moved back out of reach. ‘Don't do that, Ana. Just tell me what you want.'

‘Publish the report you commissioned from me,' Galíndez said. ‘In full.'

The blood drained from Calderón's face. ‘Be reasonable. I said we'd fund your research centre for the next five years. Why don't we say ten?'

‘Five will be fine,' Galíndez said coolly. She glanced at the screen of her phone.

‘We could pay the funds straight into your account if you like?'

‘Publish the report,' Galíndez said. ‘And pay the funds to the university, not me.'

Calderón's eyes flickered. ‘That's all you want?'

‘It is. But go back on your word and the
guardia
will pay you a visit, I promise.'

They stood facing one another, both imagining it. All those specialist officers assiduously collecting details of phone calls, bank transfers, credit-card statements, phone calls and emails. All those transactions with Swiss banks.

‘Deal?' Galíndez asked.
Game, set and fucking match.

Rosario stared at her. ‘Everything has a hidden cost, Ana. You really think Ramiro's the guy in the white hat who saves the day in movies?'

‘He is what he is. A policeman and a good one at that.'

‘Is he?' Calderón reached inside her raincoat and took out a cardboard envelope. ‘Investigate this then, you smug little dyke. Though don't do it on my time, will you?'