who provide sorrow?â
âI have suffered in the past as Marta now does, so will do everything to avoid bringing her more pain, but I have to speak to her for a few minutes â¦â
He stopped as Marta walked into the entrada. Her eyes were moist, her cheeks damp, her expression sad and bitter.
âReturn to your room, love,â her mother said.
âWhat does he want?â
âTo talk to you. I have told him, he cannot.â
âMarta,â he said, âIâm very sorry to have to be hereââ
She interrupted him. âIt was my fault.â Her voice was high.
âHe did not kill himself, so it cannot have been your fault.â
âYou say that to make me think ⦠that â¦â
âI promise you, in the name of the saint of my birthday, that I speak the truth.â He hoped he would not be asked to name the saint. âThe señor was killed by someone.â
Tears dribbled down her cheeks as she ran out of the room.
âHer sorrow will lessen since you have told her that?â Eva asked with angry sarcasm.
âIs it not kinder to speak the truth than to let her continue to believe she was in any way responsible for his death?â
âI ⦠I donât know.â She sat on the solitary chair. âWhy did she go and work there?â she wailed.
âLife can become more bitter than an unripe Seville orange. I will leave, but circumstances are beyond me and I will have to return tomorrow to speak to Marta.â
âYou will not be welcome.â
Eva was much less antagonistic the following day. She offered him a glass of wine. They sat in the main room and after a while, to her motherâs uneasiness, Marta joined them.
âI know it must distress you,â he said to her, âbut I must ask you to tell me what happened that day. Take as long as you like. If you find it becomes too difficult, we will have a break.â
Eva corrected him. âI will say when to stop.â
Sheâd tell a bishop he was talking nonsense, he thought admiringly. âMarta, Señor Russell was at the house, wasnât he?â
She nodded.
âDo you remember what they ate?â
She hesitated only briefly. â
Guà tleres amb pa
.â
âDid you have some later with RosalÃa?â
She nodded again.
âWere they delicious?â
âShe cooked them.â
A guarantee. Quail could somewhat lack in taste, but given a touch of salt and lemon juice before being browned in hot olive oil, cooked in a mélange of lemon juice, sweet paprika, marjoram, and parsley, wrapped in bacon, they became a gourmetâs choice. âWhen did you leave and return here?â
She brushed her eyes with a crooked forefinger. âLike always, after me and RosalÃa had cleaned up. The señora wanted everything spotless and back where it should be before we finished work.â
âThen you didnât see Señor Russell again?â
âHim and the señor came into the kitchen to say how much theyâd enjoyed the meal. She can only say whatâs wrong.â
âSeñor Russell left before youâd finished the work, so that would be the last you saw of him?â
âJust heard him driving off.â
âThatâs all you can ask,â Eva said sharply. âClear off and leave us alone.â
âI only have one more question and promise it wonât upset Marta any more.â
âYour promise isnât worth a single centimo.â
âMarta, how do you know the señor said goodbye to Señor Russell before he drove away?â
âI heard him.â
He thanked her for finding the courage to talk to him, Eva for her patience, left.
NINE
âI t is kind of you to take the trouble to get in touch with me,â Salas said sarcastically.
âSeñor,â Alvarez began, âI haveââ
âI hope you are not about to say you have tried to phone me several