Havana Blue by Leonardo Padura Read Free Book Online Page A

demand and always delivers. He also reckons he is successful. He spends his life travelling abroad, particularly to Spain and Panama, to sort out contracts and purchases, and it seems he’s a good businessman. Can you imagine Rafael as a businessman?”
    He couldn’t either and looked at the sound system in the corner of the living room: turntable, double cassette deck, CD, equalizer, amplifier and two no doubt incredibly powerful speakers, and thought how music from there must really sound like music.
    â€œNo, I can’t,” he said and asked: “Where did that hi-fi system come from? It’s worth more than a thousand dollars . . .”
    She glanced back at Manolo and then straight at her old school friend.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with you, Mario? Why all these questions? You know nobody works like crazy just for the fun of it. Everybody is after something and . . . in this place if you can get steak, you don’t settle for rice and eggs.”
    â€œSure, to him that God gave . . .”
    He searched for his pen but then left it where it was.
    â€œAll right, all right, forget it.”
    â€œNo, I can’t. If you had to travel in your work, wouldn’t you travel and buy things for your wife and son?” she asked, seeking Manolo’s approval. The sergeant barely raised his shoulders, was still holding his cup of coffee.
    â€œNil return on both counts: I don’t travel abroad and don’t have a wife and child.”
    â€œBut you are envious, aren’t you?” she responded quietly, looking back at the ferns. He knew he’d touched Tamara on a raw nerve. For years she’d tried to be like everybody else, but her background had won out and she always seemed different: her perfumes
were never the cheap scents others used; she was allergic and could only use a few brands of male eau-decologne; her weekend party outfits seemed like those her friends wore but were made from Indian cotton; she knew when and how to cough, sneeze and yawn in public and was the only one who immediately understood the lyrics of Led Zeppelin or Rare Earth songs. He placed the ashtray on the sofa and looked for another cigarette. It was the last one in the packet and, as ever, he was alarmed by the quantity he’d smoked but told himself it wasn’t true, he wasn’t at all envious.
    â€œI guess so,” he demurred as he lit up and realized he hadn’t the energy to argue with her. “But that’s what I least envy about Rafael, I can tell you,” he smiled knowingly at Manolo: “May St Peter bless these things.”
    She’d shut her eyes, and he wondered if she could have understood the level of envy he was experiencing. She’d come nearer, and he could smell her to his heart’s content, and then she gripped one of his hands.
    â€œForgive me, Mario,” she pleaded. “I’m very on edge with all this mess. You must understand that,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “So you want a guest list?”
    â€œComrade, comrade,” Sergeant Manuel Palacios finally piped up, raising his hand as if asking for permission to speak from the back of the class and not daring to look the Count in the eye. “I know how you must be feeling, but you must try to help us.”
    â€œI thought that was what I was doing.”
    â€œOf course. But I don’t know your husband . . . Before New Year’s Day, did you notice anything strange? Did he act at all oddly?”
    She lifted a hand and caressed her neck for a moment, as if very lovingly.
    â€œRafael was always rather odd. His character was like
that, extremely volatile. He was easily upset. If I did notice anything untoward, I’d say he seemed uneasy on the thirtieth. He told me he was very tired after all the end-of-year accounting but he was almost elated on the thirty-first, and I think he enjoyed the party. But work always worried him.”
    â€œAnd he didn’t say