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“It’s Daniel Sempere, Cecilia.”
The peephole closed, and within a few seconds the bolts and latches began to perform their sounds. The large door opened slowly, and I was received by Cecilia in her cap and uniform, holding a candle in a candleholder. From her alarmed expression, I gathered that I looked like a ghost.
“Good afternoon, Cecilia. Is Bea in?”
She looked at me without understanding. In her experience of the household routine, my presence, which lately had been an unusual occurrence, was associated only with Tomás, my old school friend.
“Miss Beatriz isn’t here….”
“Has she gone out?”
Cecilia, who at the best of times was a frightened soul, nodded.
“Do you know when she’s coming back?”
The maid shrugged. “She went with Mr. and Mrs. Aguilar to the doctor, about two hours ago.”
“To the doctor? Is she ill?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“And what doctor did they go to?”
“That I don’t know, sir.”
I decided not to go on tormenting the poor maid. The absence of Bea’s parents opened up other avenues. “What about Tomás? Is he in?”
“Yes, Master Daniel. Come in, I’ll call him.”
I went into the hall and waited. In the past I would have gone straight to my friend’s room, but I hadn’t been to that house for so long that I felt like a stranger. Cecilia disappeared down the corridor wrapped in an aura of light, abandoning me to the dark. I thought I could hear Tomás’s voice in the distance and then some steps approaching. I made up a pretext with which to explain my unannounced visit to my friend. But the figure that appeared at the door of the entrance hall was again Cecilia’s. She looked at me contritely, and my forced smile vanished.
“Master Tomás says he’s very busy and cannot see you right now.”
“Did you tell him who I was? Daniel Sempere.”
“Yes, Master Daniel. He told me to tell you to go away.”
A stab of cold steel in my stomach cut my breath.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Cecilia.
I nodded, not knowing what to say. The maid opened the door of the residence that, until not very long ago, I had considered my second home.
“Does the young master want an umbrella?”
“No thank you, Cecilia.”
“I’m sorry, Master Daniel,” the maid repeated.
I smiled weakly. “Don’t worry, Cecilia.”
The door closed, leaving me in the shadows. I stayed there a few moments and then dragged myself down the stairs. The rain was still pouring relentlessly. I walked off down the street. When I reached the corner, I stopped and turned around for a moment. I looked up at the apartment of the Aguilars. I could see the silhouette of my old friend Tomás outlined against his bedroom window. He was staring at me, motionless. I waved my hand at him. He didn’t return the greeting. A few seconds later, he moved away to the back of the room. I waited almost five minutes, hoping he would reappear, but he didn’t.
·42·
ON MY WAY BACK TO THE BOOKSHOP, I CROSSED THE STREET BY the Capitol Cinema, where two painters standing on a scaffold watched with dismay as their freshly painted placard became streaked under the rain. In the distance I made out the stoical figure of the sentinel on duty stationed opposite the bookshop. When I got to Don Federico Flaviá’s shop, I noticed that the watchmaker was standing in the doorway observing the downpour. The scars from his stay at Police Headquarters still showed on his face. He wore an impeccable gray wool suit and held a cigarette that he hadn’t bothered to light. I raised a hand to him, and he smiled back.
“What have you got against umbrellas, Daniel?”
