Havana Blue by Leonardo Padura Read Free Book Online Page B

anything or do anything that struck you as odd?” Manolo continued to avoid the lieutenant’s gaze.
    â€œI really don’t think so. Besides, on the thirty-first he went to have lunch with his mother and spent almost all day with her.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Manolo,” interjected the Count, who’d observed how the sergeant was rubbing his hands, warming to the task: he could go on questioning her for an hour. “Tamara, I’d like you to try to think of anything he might have done recently that may relate to what’s happened. Anything could be important. Things he wouldn’t usually say or do, if he spoke to someone you didn’t know, whatever . . . And it’s also important to get that list ready. Do you intend going out today?”
    â€œNo, why?”
    â€œNothing in particular, just so I know where you are. When I finish at headquarters I may pass by to pick the list up and we can talk more. It’s not a problem. It’s on my way.”
    â€œAll right, I’ll be expecting you and will get the list done, don’t worry,” she said, tussling yet again with her wayward lock.
    â€œLook,” he replied, tearing a page from his pad. “If anything crops up, you can get me on these numbers.”
    â€œAll right, of course,” she replied taking the paper, and her smile was radiant. “Hey, Mario, you’re thinning out on top. Don’t tell me you’re going bald?”

    He smiled, stood up and walked over to the door. Turned the door handle and let Manolo through first. Now he was opposite Tamara, looking her in the eye.
    â€œYes, I’m going bald into the bargain,” he said, adding: “Tamara, don’t worry for my sake. I’ve got a job to do and you must understand that, I suppose?”
    â€œYes, of course, Mario.”
    â€œThen, apart from you, tell me who would benefit from Rafael’s death?”
    She seemed surprised but then smiled. Forgot her lively lock and said: “What kind of psychologist were you going to be, Mario? I could bene . . . a sound system and the Lada downstairs?”
    â€œI really don’t know,” he admitted and lifted a hand to wave goodbye. “I never get it right with you.” And he left the house he’d not entered for fifteen years knowing he’d been hurt. He preferred not to see her waving farewell from her doorway. Walked to the road and crossed over without looking at the traffic.
    â€œWalking warms you up,” he declared as he settled down in the car, and he could not not look towards the house and see the farewell wave from that woman standing on her doorstep by the side of an aggressive concrete shrub.
    â€œThat egg’s asking for a pinch of salt.”
    â€œWhat are you getting at?”
    â€œTake care, Conde, take care.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, Manolo? You going to tell me off?”
    â€œMe tell you off? No, Conde, you’re getting on, and you’ve been in the force too long to know what you should and should not do. But I have my doubts about her.”
    â€œGo on, then, what’s getting at you? Tell me.”
    â€œI’m not sure, but I really can’t fathom her. She’s too
poised for me. Even for you . . . So poised, put yourself in her place, husband missing, probably dead or up to his neck . . .”
    â€œUh-huh.”
    â€œDidn’t you think she was a bit like, what the hell do I care?”
    â€œAnd you reckon she’s implicated?”
    â€œBloody hell, when the mule says it can’t . . .”
    â€œCome on, don’t speak in riddles if you want me to get you . . .”
    â€œAll right, forget the riddles. I’ll be as clear as daylight. You know, Conde, anyone watching you can see you slavering at the mouth when you look at that woman, and one look at her and you know she knows as well. That wouldn’t be a problem if there weren’t the slight matter of a husband . .