The Grotto's Secret: A Historical Conspiracy Mystery Thriller (6 page)

17

María’s stomach grumbled. The smell of onions braising in the pot with freshly picked herbs and a chunk of wild boar made her mouth water. Madre had been paid well for helping another baby into the world last night.

She watched Madre mash the rizado into a pulp. Next, she smeared the green, sticky pulp on the goat’s wound.

‘Ana-María, you must stop bringing these animals home.’

‘We can milk this one.’ She gave Madre a coy smile.

‘We barely have money to feed our own mouths. Pray tell, how can we feed these?’ Her arm flung wide. Outside, a menagerie of rescued animals clucked and sniffed at the door.

‘One day I will be paid for my writing, then we will have plenty of money to feed them all.’

‘That is another thing you must stop.’ Madre washed her hands and without wiping them dry, clapped them on the layers of wide skirts hiding her hips. ‘Ana —’

‘Mama, call me María!’

Madre threw her hands in the air. ‘I pray you! Why do you make life difficult for yourself?’

‘I know what you are going to say. I do not want to get married and stop my writing.’

‘If you refuse to marry you can take refuge in a convent where at least you could enjoy being a clever woman. The nuns at
Abadía de Torcal
would love you to write for them.’

As María crossed her arms, her stomach muscles tightened. ‘Madre, being with child or being cloistered in a monastery are unacceptable to me!’

‘It is a humiliation for our family. Padre would want to see you married.’

Padre’s death had resulted in her remaining unmarried — much to her relief. Thinking of Padre made her blurt out, ‘When Padre did some work at the abbey he told me strange things go on there. And strange creatures walk the night.’

‘
¡Hé!
Alas, I shouldn’t have allowed Tío to put that nonsense in your head.’

‘Not nonsense, Madre. Learning.’

‘Learning indeed! When he took you under his wing to give you an education, it was supposed to teach you to be a good wife to a wealthy husband.’

‘Mama! I am a good maiden with upstanding virtues. I don’t need a husband to make me any better.’

Long ago Tío had given her history lessons. Saint Catherine of Alexandria stuck in her mind the most, mainly because she’d refused to get married. María knew how she’d felt.

‘You miss the point,
mi querida
, I was hoping because his family are money lenders, he could find you a husband amongst the wealthiest, most powerful families of Spain.’

‘Madre,
you
of all people know I am not in need of a wealthy man to make me happy. It is absurd! If they gave girls books and taught us what Tío has shown me, women would be as knowledgeable and as happy
as men.’

‘Ana-María de Carbonela! You cannot talk like that. If someone hears you …’ Madre shook her head. Her voice dropped to a whisper, ‘I know you are writing about this. Do not give Tío any more of those
manuscritos
. Your writing will get us thrown into prison. The monarchy would not like to hear the things you write.’

María swung around. ‘He betrayed me!’ So Tío had told her mother about her last manuscrito. She had asked him to send it to people in Barcelona who would listen to a woman’s voice.

‘No, Ana-María. He would not betray you. He wants to protect you, but he is proud of you. He sent it wherever you asked
without
my blessing.’

María exhaled and stared at the fireplace where more of her work lay hidden. She wouldn’t give it up. Not for anyone. Not even Madre.

‘As you will.’ Madre snorted and lifted the goat off the kitchen table. ‘But take heed, your thirst for learning will bring problems on your head.’ She dumped the goat into María’s arms and inclined her head towards the back door.

Instead of taking the goat outside, María ambled to the fireplace. She placed the goat on an old rug in front of the fire, tugged the hairy little beard under the goat’s chin and patted his head. She rose and turned to her mother. ‘I will not give up my writing Madre, like you will not give up your medicine.’

For a long moment, mother and daughter glared at each other. Both defiant, both trying to force the other to consent. Finally, Madre huffed and wiped her hands on the apron covering her fleshy belly. ‘If you must do this writing, confine it to religious matters. Or write a journal about my medicine so you can learn about things that will one day be useful to you.’

A spirited bleat echoed around the room. They spun around to see the goat trying to stand on his wounded hoof. María’s jaw dropped as she watched the little goat already putting pressure on his hoof and limping a step or two. Could Madre’s rizado work that fast?

‘
Ya está!’
Again Madre’s hands landed on her swaying hips. ‘You see; he will walk soon.’

María’s eyes lit up. ‘Yes, Mama, he will walk soon.’ She stepped forward and hugged her mother. ‘
Gracias
. Now too, I have seen what many of your patients tell me. You are a miracle worker.’

‘No, Ana-María.’ Madre wagged her finger. ‘We do not want to offend the Church. I am not a miracle worker. I only use natural remedies to help people. That is all.’

‘I will write a manuscript about your
medicina
.’

With a rough hand, Madre cupped María’s cheek. ‘You are a good girl, Ana-María. One day you will make a good wife and a good mother.’

‘One day, maybe. But now I will start with this rizado plant.’

They glanced at the goat again.

María smiled.

He had been cured by the grotto’s secret.

18

Barker’s thoughts ran wild in anticipation. If only he was there to see the terror in Piccoli’s eyes as the tyre burst and she couldn’t control the beast. He wanted his face to be the last the bitch ever saw.

Making money had been exciting at first, but the gloss had soon worn off and for the past few years he’d had his nose to the ground, sniffing out something to rock his socks.

Slowly his plan had formed. Of course, he’d mulled over it with many cups of camomile tea on countless nights trying to figure out how he’d remain anonymous. It had turned out to be easy although setting up the show had tested his patience with Teresina constantly bitching at him. That’s why she had to be the first. And for other reasons he preferred to forget.

A thought suddenly struck him and he grinned. He had the perfect solution to make her think of him before she died.

Barker called her mobile.

19

Teresina’s head pounded. ‘Majella, turn that music down!’

Majella fiddled with her phone and instead of the monotonous drone lowering, it filled the car with a deafening beat.

‘Majella!’

‘Sorry, Mamma. Wrong button.’

Within seconds Majella lowered the volume, but it still thumped in Teresina’s ears. Her nerves prickled. She was late for Nonna and nobody, but nobody was ever late for Nonna.

She switched on the air-con and breathed in the instant blast of cool air. She hated the Italian heat; it exhausted her and made her listless. And she preferred to keep up her fiery and passionate reputation.

‘Call Inez and tell her to make sure we have adjoining rooms.’

‘Mamma, don’t badger her. She will do that anyway.’

‘Okay,
carino
.’ Teresina glanced at Majella. ‘Can you send a text for me?’

Before Majella lifted the phone, it started ringing through the speakers, filling the car with more chaos. Teresina glanced at the dashboard and grimaced at the caller’s ID.

The Bastardo.

She barked into the phone, ‘Don’t tell me you’re not coming.’

‘Of course not, I’ll be there. How’s the car handling?’

‘You think I can’t handle this car? I’ve been driving this sexy beast for years!’

‘Oh, you’re capable. That car becomes you.’

‘
Esatto
, exactly! I don’t know why I’ve been asked to assess the show’s stupid devices.’

‘You know the drill. We check the products entrepreneurs’ pitch to the show so we can see which are suitable for the next series.’

‘
Bene
, okay! I’ll see you in Rome. We’re going there straight after visiting Nonna.’

‘How’s Majella?’

‘Why the sudden interest?’ Teresina prickled. He had no idea what would be handed to him in Rome.

‘I thought I heard music in the background.’

‘Yes, some stupid hip-hop.’

‘Ahh, nothing like the good ol’ tunes.’ He broke into song with a piece of the chorus from Gloria Gaynor’s
I Will Survive
.

‘Listen, you may have nothing better to do with your time than sing to me, but I have things to do.’

Teresina gripped the steering. Annoyed at him for making her remember the past, she struggled to concentrate on the hairpin bends coming into Serramonacesca.

‘I’ll see you later.’ She hit a button and cut the call.

20

Kelby frowned, confused by the information about herbs and ruins. Impatiently she asked Marina, ‘What has this got to do with what you found on your farm?’

‘It’s the same woman.’

‘But you said the documents weren’t named.’

‘I went to the Bibliotecas Públicas del Estado and other archives in Madrid.
Herbal de Carbonela
is still in print today. I took the herbal guide I’d found in the cellar and matched the two. They’re identical. It’s been rewritten and reproduced, and many new authors have taken the information and published their own herbals.’

Doctor Robson said, ‘Strangely, we found lots of information about a sailor named Carbonela who was associated with Christopher Columbus, but not much about Ana-María. She disappeared late in 1492 after her herbal journal was published.’

‘Have you tried to contact an expert?’

‘
¡Dios!
It’s more than that. I think the skeleton we found in the ruins is Ana-María de Carbonela’s! If it is, she deserves to be honoured but I don’t know how to go about it.’

Roy patted his sister’s hand again, ‘More important is finding out more about this plant. The herbal journal names a herb called “rizado”.’

‘Which,’ Marina interjected, ‘has never been found! I spent hours on the internet reading documents and days in libraries and museums.’

Doctor Robson nodded. ‘Carbonela’s herbal says rizado was mixed with other traditional remedies. It speeds the healing process. Carbonela’s stories —’

‘¡Eh,’
Marina slapped his arm,
‘
call her Ana-María. Don’t refer to her by her surname.’

Doctor Robson turned back to Kelby. ‘Marina’s right. Ana-María’s chronicles reflect the healing process. Take one of her stories archived in Madrid. It’s about a woman herbalist who concocts a potion with incredible healing powers. She does this inside some kind of secret grotto near an underground waterfall.’

Marina said, ‘Maybe this herbalist was her mother.’

Doctor Robson cut in, saying ‘The herbalist in her story was named Carmen. She may have been Ana-María’s mother.’

‘Why do you think that?’

Marina flipped the book closed and pointed at the symbol again. ‘The two C’s are back-to-back. They could stand for Carmen Carbonela.’

Kelby stared at it. ‘Hmm, I see the two C’s now. When Gary gave me the pendant I thought it was an elaborate X.’

Doctor Robson said, ‘It could be either.’

Marina shrugged. ‘If it’s two C’s I wonder if that was Ana-María’s way of honouring her mother’s knowledge.’

‘Marina thinks Carmen named the herb. The first mention in the journal is listed as “rizado”, which means “curly”, so it must be a funny looking plant.’

Marina shuffled more research documents. ‘I found an old book on the Spanish Inquisition. A woman from the Granada
area called Carmen was condemned as a witch. It doesn’t give her family name because they didn’t know much about her.’

‘But you said you lived near Malaga. Granada is miles away.’

‘
Lo sé,
I know, but in those days the whole of our area fell under Castile de Granada. That was eventually divided into Andalusia, and later Malaga got its own province.’

‘I see. So, this Carmen was a witch?’

Doctor Robson’s steady gaze bored into Kelby. ‘She may have been a herbalist, but the Inquisition would have considered her an heretic.’

Marina chipped in, ‘Maybe they accused her of being a witch because she mixed herbs to make medicines.’

Doctor Robson, lowered his voice and leaned closer to Kelby, ‘Heretic or witch or neither, Rizado needs to be protected.’

‘Protected?’

Doctor Robson and Marina looked at each other.

His intense gaze penetrated Kelby’s as he said, ‘There’s a lot of noise on the web about this herb and why it hasn’t been heard of since the Middle Ages. The big pharmaceuticals have been trying to find it and replicate it.’

‘Ancient secrets breed weirdos.’ Marina added.

‘Rizado could be extremely powerful in the right hands.’ Doctor Robson threw his jumper back over his shoulders.

‘And
mortal,
deadly, in the wrong hands!’ Marina exclaimed.

Kelby frowned. ‘I’ve lost track here. What are we talking about now?’

‘Haven’t you heard of rizado before? Not even from your brother?’

Kelby’s jaw dropped. ‘My br-brother?’ She stammered, ‘What’s he got to do with this?’

Doctor Robson came around and knelt beside Kelby. His hand rested on her arm. ‘Kelby, many of the people interested in rizado are extremely dangerous.’

Marina nodded in agreement. ‘With the speculation out there, rizado will be attractive as a big money spinner to many
diablos
. Do you know what this could be worth to the pharma sector?’

Kelby’s gaze swung across the table between brother and sister. ‘I can imagine! But I’m confused. Why me? I don’t know about the pharmaceutical sector.’

‘The world is full of evil,
perverso
.’

‘Wait! You said something about my brother. What’s he got to do with this?’ Kelby touched her phone and her screen-saver image of the man and child lit up. Gary and Annie. The two most precious people in her life.

They glanced at the phone, but Kelby clicked it off.

Doctor Robson’s grip on her arm tightened. ‘Kelby, we came to you because we think your brother was murdered.’