name of ?” Tejada prompted. There was a short silence and then he added, “I think Agustín would be upset if he were to return and find, say, his checkers game overturned, and possibly a few of the bookcases? He’s a bright boy. He might deduce a struggle.”
Velázquez’s fists clenched briefly. “Tomás Rivera,” he said quietly. “But I suspect that Rivera’s indignation had more to do with my convictions than with his own.”
Tejada, who suspected much the same thing, moved on to another question. “I assume that you knew Fernández in much the same way you knew Arroyo? A casual acquaintance?”
Doctor Velázquez, who had wearily decided that fighting the insistent questions was impossible, would have been gratified by the knowledge that his next words seriously shook the lieutenant. “Actually, no. I knew Fernández through his daughter. My daughter Anita was a teacher before she married, and Elena Fernández was one of her first students. They became friendly after Elena graduated. They’re close in age, you see, and Elena’s also a teacher.”
“I see,” Tejada said shortly, mentally placing the woman who had shown him upstairs next to Elena. “And you say that you lost touch with each other after the incident of this petition?”
“Fernández was in prison,” Velázquez pointed out dryly. “The rest of us didn’t want to be arrested for conspiracy, or worse.”
Tejada changed the direction of his questioning abruptly. “Do you know of any professional connections Arroyo may have had in France?”
The doctor blinked at the change in subject, but he answered readily enough. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. As I say, we were never really close. I know that Arroyo visited Geneva several times. With regard to the League of Nations. I suppose he might have met French colleagues there.”
Tejada suddenly saw a possible explanation for Eduardo Crespo’s surprising statement. It was extremely unlikely that Arroyo would think of taking refuge in France now. But if he were using France as a way station on the way to Switzerland, he might well follow news of the war anxiously. “Thank you.”
Tejada stood. “If you hear anything from Arroyo, please contact the Guardia Civil.”
Doctor Velázquez rose also. “If I hear anything from Arroyo,”
he remarked, smiling slightly, “I suspect that the Guardia will already know about it.” Seeing Tejada’s startled look, his smile widened slightly. “I’ve been under surveillance intermittently for the last four years, Lieutenant. I am aware when I have a shadow.”
“You’re very observant.” Tejada smiled back. “Have a good evening.”
“Until Friday,” the doctor replied.
The lieutenant decided to postpone further interviews until the following day. Sergeant Hernández had been making dire predictions about the inadequacy of two new recruits for patrol, and there was a pile of paperwork on Tejada’s desk that he had already neglected for too long. He headed back to the post, wondering idly what subject Ana de Carrillo had taught Elena.
Chapter 8
I n his interview with the former professor the preceding Friday, Tejada had established that Quiñones and Sons was a construction company, and that Doctor Rivera was employed there as a bookkeeper. He did not learn that Ramón Quiñones was Rivera’s brother-in-law until the following day, when he set out for the business offices of the company.
“He doesn’t do anything political,” Quiñones explained nervously to the intimidating uniformed figure who appeared in his private office Tuesday morning. “Just balances the accounts, and makes sure the men get paid. With respect, sir, your predecessor never had any objection.”
“No, I gather not,” Tejada said.
Quiñones shifted his weight and wished that the lieutenant would be a little more forthcoming. “Of course, I have nothing to do with his
Velázquez’s fists clenched briefly. “Tomás Rivera,” he said quietly. “But I suspect that Rivera’s indignation had more to do with my convictions than with his own.”
Tejada, who suspected much the same thing, moved on to another question. “I assume that you knew Fernández in much the same way you knew Arroyo? A casual acquaintance?”
Doctor Velázquez, who had wearily decided that fighting the insistent questions was impossible, would have been gratified by the knowledge that his next words seriously shook the lieutenant. “Actually, no. I knew Fernández through his daughter. My daughter Anita was a teacher before she married, and Elena Fernández was one of her first students. They became friendly after Elena graduated. They’re close in age, you see, and Elena’s also a teacher.”
“I see,” Tejada said shortly, mentally placing the woman who had shown him upstairs next to Elena. “And you say that you lost touch with each other after the incident of this petition?”
“Fernández was in prison,” Velázquez pointed out dryly. “The rest of us didn’t want to be arrested for conspiracy, or worse.”
Tejada changed the direction of his questioning abruptly. “Do you know of any professional connections Arroyo may have had in France?”
The doctor blinked at the change in subject, but he answered readily enough. “No, but that doesn’t mean anything. As I say, we were never really close. I know that Arroyo visited Geneva several times. With regard to the League of Nations. I suppose he might have met French colleagues there.”
Tejada suddenly saw a possible explanation for Eduardo Crespo’s surprising statement. It was extremely unlikely that Arroyo would think of taking refuge in France now. But if he were using France as a way station on the way to Switzerland, he might well follow news of the war anxiously. “Thank you.”
Tejada stood. “If you hear anything from Arroyo, please contact the Guardia Civil.”
Doctor Velázquez rose also. “If I hear anything from Arroyo,”
he remarked, smiling slightly, “I suspect that the Guardia will already know about it.” Seeing Tejada’s startled look, his smile widened slightly. “I’ve been under surveillance intermittently for the last four years, Lieutenant. I am aware when I have a shadow.”
“You’re very observant.” Tejada smiled back. “Have a good evening.”
“Until Friday,” the doctor replied.
The lieutenant decided to postpone further interviews until the following day. Sergeant Hernández had been making dire predictions about the inadequacy of two new recruits for patrol, and there was a pile of paperwork on Tejada’s desk that he had already neglected for too long. He headed back to the post, wondering idly what subject Ana de Carrillo had taught Elena.
Chapter 8
I n his interview with the former professor the preceding Friday, Tejada had established that Quiñones and Sons was a construction company, and that Doctor Rivera was employed there as a bookkeeper. He did not learn that Ramón Quiñones was Rivera’s brother-in-law until the following day, when he set out for the business offices of the company.
“He doesn’t do anything political,” Quiñones explained nervously to the intimidating uniformed figure who appeared in his private office Tuesday morning. “Just balances the accounts, and makes sure the men get paid. With respect, sir, your predecessor never had any objection.”
“No, I gather not,” Tejada said.
Quiñones shifted his weight and wished that the lieutenant would be a little more forthcoming. “Of course, I have nothing to do with his
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