Death on a Galician Shore by Domingo Villar Read Free Book Online Page A

about the keys for the boat?’
    ‘Still on the boat, I suppose.’
    ‘Of course.’
    Caldas replaced the bag on the tray. He was about to pick up the one containing money when someone came in with a message for Barcia: Alicia Castelo had just arrived and the pathologist wanted Clara to be with her when she identified her brother’s body.

Alicia
    Justo Castelo’s sister had identified the body. She’d been asked to wait for a moment before leaving, and she was sitting on one of the benches in the corridor. She was alone, leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees, chin cupped in her hands and her gaze fixed on a point on the floor, between her feet. She was wearing dark clothes and her hair was as fair as her brother’s.
    As Estevez approached, she looked up, her blue eyes red from crying. On seeing the policeman who had spoken to her that morning she smiled faintly. Caldas was pleased to see that his assistant’s visit to Panxón had not made a bad impression. At least not on her.
    After exchanging a few words with her, Estevez beckoned to the inspector.
    ‘Inspector, this is Alicia Castelo, the sister, you know … I’ve told her you’ve only got a few questions.’
    Caldas held out his hand. ‘Please, don’t get up.’
    ‘Inspector,’ she said, taking his hand.
    ‘I’m sorry to trouble you at such a difficult time, but we need to speak to you,’ began Caldas gently. ‘If you don’t feel strong enough we can leave it till tomorrow.’
    Alicia Castelo looked at him and Caldas liked her face. Even though it was dulled by grief, the blue eyes ringed with shadows, he found it attractive. He thought she must be about ten or twelve years younger than her brother.
    ‘Do you think he committed suicide, too?’ she asked.
    ‘What reason would we have for thinking that?’
    ‘He went to sea and his body turned up on the beach with his hands tied,’ she whispered. ‘What else could you think?’
    Caldas exchanged a look with Estevez.
    ‘You don’t believe it?’ he asked.
    ‘I know that my brother would never do such a thing,’ she said. ‘Not while our mother is still alive.’
    ‘We’re not convinced that it was suicide either,’ Caldas assured her. ‘It may be that someone tied your brother’s hands and threw him … Well …’
    The drowned fisherman’s sister ran her hand through her hair and lowered her head, looking down at the floor again. After a few seconds, she looked up and asked: ‘Do you have any idea who might have done it?’
    ‘That’s exactly what we wanted to ask you,’ replied Caldas.
    She thought for a moment, and then shook her head.
    ‘You didn’t live with him, did you?’ asked Caldas.
    The woman swallowed. Caldas realised that she had shuddered inwardly on hearing her brother referred to in the past tense.
    ‘No. I live with my husband and my mother. She has trouble getting around so she lives with me. Anyway, my husband spends months at a time away at sea. She and I keep each other company.’
    ‘Your brother lived alone?’ asked Caldas.
    She swallowed again. ‘Yes, alone. In the house that used to belong to our grandparents.’
    ‘Do you remember the last time you saw him?’ asked Caldas.
    Without needing to reflect, Alicia Castelo replied, ‘He came to the house on Friday afternoon. He dropped in to see our mother almost every afternoon, before baiting the traps and setting them out at sea. She hardly ever goes out.’
    ‘Did you notice anything unusual about your brother?’
    She thought in silence. ‘No.’
    ‘Do you know if he’d had an argument with anyone or if anything was worrying him?’ the inspector pressed.
    ‘If it was, he didn’t mention it.’
    ‘Was he in a relationship with a woman?’
    ‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. Justo was very reserved.’
    ‘Any new or strange friends?’
    Again, she thought not. Remembering the little plastic sachet in the dead man’s pocket, Caldas tried another tack: ‘What about