The Exile by Mark Oldfield Read Free Book Online

to keep her awake. She caught the words ‘Franco’s crimes’ and turned up the volume, suddenly interested as she heard a woman’s voice, strangely familiar, her words fast and breathless, excited by her own erudition.
    â€˜Perhaps the worst of the crimes committed during the dictatorship was the wholesale theft and sale of newborn babies carried out with the knowledge and often the assistance of the regime’s police and security services. Although many believe the practice ended when Franco died, the lucrative trade continued for years after his death.’
    The voice continued but Galíndez was no longer listening. No wonder the speaker sounded familiar, it was Luisa Ordoñez. On the radio, Luisa’s voice was calm and authoritative, far from the wheedling tone she deployed when she and Galíndez were lovers.
    Another woman was speaking now: ‘If you’ve just joined us, my name’s Isabel Morente and you’re listening to Tardes con Isabel . My guest today is Profesora Luisa Ordoñez, head of the School of Historical Discourse Analysis at Madrid’s Complutense University. We’re talking about issues relating to the niños robados , the thousands of children taken from their parents at birth by doctors and medical staff who took advantage of their positions to then sell them. If these issues have affected you, call our helpline on—’ Galíndez turned off the radio.
    Passing signs for Vitoria airport, Galíndez saw the white control tower in the distance, wavering in the heat. That might be about to change, she noticed. To the north, the horizon was lined with black clouds. She left the motorway at exit 355, passing through Gamarra Menor, a village of white-walled Basque caserios , chalet-style timbered houses with red tiled roofs and timbered portals. Her stomach tightened. You’re in the Basque Country now, Ana. A couple of kilometres later, she pulled over to call Sargento Atienza.
    â€˜ Hola, Sarge, it’s Ana Galíndez. I’m ten kilometres from Legutio. Can I visit the site?’
    â€˜Sorry, I’m tied up for the rest of this afternoon, Ana. Can we meet up in the morning?’
    â€˜I wanted to get a look at it today. I don’t mind going alone.’
    â€˜Thing is, we’ve had some trouble with the local workers on the site,’ Atienza said. ‘It’ll be better if I come with you and bring a couple of my guys.’
    She frowned. ‘That sounds serious, what’s the problem?’
    â€˜Nothing we can’t handle,’ Atienza said, ‘but it pays to be careful.’
    She sighed. ‘OK, I’ll take your advice. But I need somewhere to stay – any ideas?’
    â€˜No problem. When you arrive, drive into the centre of the village, park near the tourist office and then walk down the street towards the main square. There’s a pensión called the Aralar. It’s a bit old-fashioned but it’s cheap and comfortable. I’ll drive over and collect you in the morning.’ He paused. ‘You didn’t come in uniform, did you?’
    â€˜I’m a forensic scientist,’ Galíndez said. ‘Plain clothes.’
    â€˜Good, because you need to be careful. It’s best if no one knows you’re GC. If anyone asks, say you’re a hiker.’ He took a breath. ‘Have you got Madrid licence plates?’
    â€˜You know, you’re starting to make me feel paranoid, Sargento .’
    â€˜There’s no need,’ Atienza said. ‘But a lot of people from Madrid have had their cars vandalised by the local youth. They call it Kale Borroka , it’s supposed to be a form of low-level urban resistance. They cut their teeth on that and then move up to the big league once they’ve toughened up.’
    â€˜The big league being ETA?’
    â€˜Like I said, just be careful.’
    â€˜I will.’ Galíndez ended the call. Atienza’s