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I took the change of clothes she was offering me and started to put on the underwear, which was clean-smelling and warm, then the pale pink cotton shirt, the socks, the waistcoat, the trousers, and jacket. The mirror showed me a door-to-door salesman whose smile had abandoned him. When I returned to the kitchen, Dr. Soldevila had come out of the bedroom to give us all a bulletin on Femín’s condition.
“For the moment the worst is over,” he announced. “No need to worry. These things always look more serious than they are. Your friend has a broken left arm and two broken ribs, he’s lost three teeth, and he presents a large number of bruises, cuts, and contusions. But luckily there’s no internal bleeding and no symptoms of any brain lesion. The folded newspapers the patient wore under his clothes to keep him warm and accentuate his figure, as he puts it, served as armor and cushioned the blows. A few moments ago, when he recovered consciousness, the patient asked me to tell you that he’s feeling like a twenty-year-old, that he wants blood sausage sandwiches with fresh garlic, a chocolate bar, and some lemon Sugus candies. I see no problem with that, though I think it would be better to start off with fruit juices, yogurt, and perhaps a bit of boiled rice. Moreover, as proof of his vigor and presence of mind, he has asked me to transmit to you that, when Nurse Amparito was putting a few stitches in his leg, he had an iceberg of an erection.”
“It’s just that he’s very manly,” Bernarda
murmured apologetically.
“When will we be able to see him?” I asked.
“Not just yet. Perhaps by daybreak. It will do him good to rest a bit. Tomorrow, at the latest, I’d like him to be taken along to the Hospital del Mar so he can have a brain scan, just for our peace of mind. But I think we can rest assured that Mr. Romero de Torres will be as good as new within a few days. Judging from the marks and scars on his body, this man has got out of tighter spots. He’s a true survivor. If you need a copy of the report to take along to the police—”
“It won’t be necessary,” I interrupted.
“Young man, let me warn you that this could have been very serious. You must report it to the police immediately.”
Barceló was watching me attentively. I looked back at him, and he nodded.
“There’ll be plenty of time for that, Doctor, don’t worry,” said Barceló. “What’s important now is to make sure the patient is well. I myself will report this incident tomorrow morning, first thing. Even the authorities have a right to a little peace and quiet at night.”
It was obvious that the doctor took a dim view of my suggestion to keep the incident from the police, but when he realized that Barceló was taking responsibility for the matter, he shrugged his shoulders and returned to the bedroom to continue with his treatments. As soon as the doctor had disappeared, Barceló told me to follow him to his study. Bernarda sighed on her stool, numb with brandy and shock.
“Bernarda, keep yourself busy. Make some coffee. Nice and strong.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
I followed Barceló to his study, a cave blanketed in clouds of tobacco smoke, which curled around columns of books and papers. Echoes of Clara’s piano reached us in discordant spurts. It was obvious that Maestro Neri’s lessons hadn’t done much good, at least in the field of music. The bookseller pointed me to a chair and proceeded to fill his pipe.
“I’ve phoned your father and told him that Fermín had a minor accident and that you’d brought him here.”
“Did he believe you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Right.”
The bookseller lit his pipe and sat back in the armchair behind his desk. At the other end of the apartment, Clara was tormenting Debussy. Barceló rolled his eyes.
“What happened to the music teacher?” I asked.
“He got fired. Seems like there were not enough keys on the piano to keep his fingers busy.”
“Right.”
“Are you sure you haven’t had a beating too? You’re being pretty monosyllabic. When you were a kid, you were much more talkative.”
The study door opened, and Bernarda came in carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee and a sugar bowl. She was swaying from side to side as she walked, and I was afraid of getting caught under a shower of boiling-hot coffee.
“May I come in? Will you take yours with a dash of brandy, sir?”
“I think the bottle of Lepanto has earned itself a break for tonight, Bernarda. And you, too. Come on, off you go to sleep. Daniel and I will stay up in case anything is needed. Since Fermín is in your bedroom, you can use mine.”
“Oh, no, sir, I wouldn’t hear of it.”
“It’s an order. And no arguing. I want you to be asleep in the next five minutes.”
“But, sir…”
“Bernarda, you’re risking your Christmas bonus.”
