Free The Whispering City by Sara Moliner Page B

said, ‘Can you give me this one on credit, Señorita Ana? I’ll pay for it next week, I swear.’
    ‘Yes, all right.’
    The Spider left happily with his letter in an envelope and, thought Ana, with a scheme for some burglary in his head, if he was thinking of bringing his girlfriend to Barcelona.
    ‘One of these days a gust of wind will come and blow that one right away,’ said a voice from the booth to the right.
    Oleguer Pons had also finished with his inquisitive client and was watching The Spider as he disappeared around a corner. Then, as Ana had expected, he told her about the contents of his client’s letter. She listened to it with the impatience of someone who knows that the story she has to tell, when it is her turn to speak, is going to be infinitely more interesting. And it was. Old Oleguer was the perfect listener: attentive, curious and enthusiastic. Ana went on in depth and then held out the copy of
La Vanguardia
that she had brought with her to show to her parents. Oleguer Pons read the text and told her, ‘The family tradition continues. Has your father or your grandfather seen it?’
    No. Not yet. She was planning on going to their house later, for lunch. And taking them a copy of the newspaper. She was eager to see her family’s reaction to her first success.
    All the same, she helped two more people with some official papers. Afterwards, she said goodbye to Oleguer Pons, closed the stall and headed to her parents’ house.

     
    9
    ‘The taxi’s here.’
    Calvet appeared in the doorway of Pablo’s office and started laughing when he saw his disconcerted expression.
    ‘We’re going to have lunch with Pla. I reserved a table at Siete Puertas. Weren’t we going to talk about your problem? Don’t tell me you forgot! I can’t believe that.’
    No, of course he hadn’t forgotten. Since he’d been told about the lunch, the hours had both stretched on interminably and passed in a flash; now it seemed that the meeting with his bosses was catching him unprepared. Calvet went off, leaving the door open.
    Pablo put on his jacket and went after him.
    ‘Calvet and Señor Pla have already gone downstairs,’ Maribel told him.
    They hadn’t waited for him. Bad sign.
    ‘Bon appétit!’ said Maribel in farewell.
    Siete Puertas was an expensive restaurant near the port. Was that a good sign? If they took him to eat there, surely they weren’t going to fire him. Or was that perhaps the last meal of a condemned man?
    Pla and Calvet sat in the back seat of the taxi and closed the door, making it clear that he should sit beside the driver. Another bad sign. During the ride Calvet talked constantly. Pablo saw out of the corner of his eye how the lawyer accentuated each of his words with gestures that he drew in the air like Chinese calligraphy. Sometimes he talked about the traffic. ‘There are more and more cars in this city! Soon you won’t be able to cross the road.’
    Or he commented on the building work being carried out for the Eucharistic Congress: ‘Did you know they are finally knocking down the rookeries on the Diagonal?’
    Pla’s worrying silence was broken only when Calvet talked about the new Civil Governor, but it was nothing more than an approving grunt. ‘A hardliner, just what this city needs,’ added Calvet, not allowing himself to be disheartened by his boss’s reserve.
    Pablo didn’t think that what the city needed was more of a hard line, but he was very careful not to state his opinion.
    ‘Noguer, I guess you must have noticed the change since they put one of the hardliners at the head of the CIB. Goyanes, the one who used to be in Social. A tough nut to crack.’
    And he was. Since Commissioner Goyanes had been in the CIB, not only had the number of arrests for common crimes gone up, but the penalties handed down by the public prosecutor’s office were much harsher. Rumour had it that they had put one of the political officers into the CIB to keep an eye on the