Free The Good Suicides by Antonio Hill

Don’t worry about it.”
    “Of course I’ll worry. It’s not fair, and—”
    “Martina! As the tangos say, life isn’t fair. I pity anyone who believes otherwise. I broke Omar’s face—that’s a fact that, on record, translates as violent tendencies, with no space for explanations. And then”—his voice became more serious—“there’s the matter of Ruth.”
    Martina looked away. She’d come to dislike that name and all it implied, although she’d never say so to her boss. She cared about Héctor alot; she’d seen him so obsessed with finding an answer that when Savall held firm and took him off the case she’d almost felt relieved. It wasn’t fair, but as he’d just said, was life ever?
    “So now all you have to consider is whether you’re interested or not.” They both knew that was stupid. If the superintendent had put her forward, there was little to be considered. “Martina, this is a good opportunity. You know it is.”
    Héctor was aware, or at least guessed, that there was something else. Savall had wanted to rescue Martina Andreu, a woman he cared about personally and professionally, from the camp of exiles. For better and above all for worse, Andreu’s name was associated with Salgado’s, and the sooner this bond was broken the better it would be for the sergeant’s career. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell her so. Martina was so loyal she wouldn’t hesitate in raising hell if she suspected anything of the sort.
    “My situation is complicated,” she clarified. “You know Rafa is still unemployed, right?”
    He nodded. The sergeant’s husband was a technical architect and had been one of the first to feel the pinprick in the property bubble. First he went months without being paid and finally had been left with no work, and with few prospects of finding any, the previous September.
    “I don’t know if this is the best time for me to …”
    Héctor understood, but his obligation was to bring her around to the contrary.
    “Martina, don’t scupper it. Don’t sacrifice a great opportunity through misguided loyalty. That won’t do either of you any good, not him and not you.”
    “You can’t imagine what it’s like to see him at home.” She wasn’t given to discussing personal subjects, even with him. “He’s irritable, he gets angry at the kids over stupid things. Sometimes I think I’m not going to put up with it anymore. It kills me to see him depressed and at the same time it makes me angry, as if it’s partly his fault. As if the solution is that he should accept anything. And then I hate myself … Fuck.”
    “It’s not his fault and you know it. But if you let this opportunity go, then you really will have something to blame him for.”
    She forced herself to smile.
    “So you want to get rid of me, Inspector Salgado.”
    “Of course,” he admitted, feigning seriousness. He looked at the roof, as if he were giving thanks to a supreme being. “All this is a conspiracy I dreamed up to finally be free of your nagging.”
    They looked at each other more affectionately than usual. Neither of the two was exactly effusive in their affections; perhaps that was why they had always understood each other so well.
    “And if I accept, when does it all start?”
    “Savall is waiting for you in his office … now. There’s a meeting in Madrid the day after tomorrow.”
    “Fuck. Is someone at home packing my suitcase without me knowing?”
    “I thought of sending Fort, mainly so he’d do something useful …”
    Héctor’s joke hung in the air like an aimless arrow as the door opened and the person in question appeared on the threshold.
    “Excuse me,” Roger apologized.
    Salgado almost blushed, and Martina Andreu took advantage of the moment to rise.
    “I’ll leave the boss all to you. We’ll talk,” she added, turning to Salgado. She winked at him before leaving and murmured, “Go on making friends.”
    Héctor spent the first few minutes trying to figure