Do you think I can get the dough just like that, in a couple of days?”
The other shook his head again, glum.
“By the way, where are we going?” asked Aleix.
Again, Rubén didn’t answer.
In the Martís’ salon, Héctor attentively observed the little girl in front of him. Despite her eighteen years, Gina had the air of a defenseless child. And for a while now, uneasy. He told himself the best thing to do was ask her direct questions, at least at the beginning; direct the questioning with neutral inquiries until she felt more comfortable.
“Listen,” he repeated, aiming to reassure her, “we’re only
here to talk to you. I know you don’t feel like remembering what happened that night, so we’ll try to be brief. Just answer my questions, OK?”
She nodded.
“What time did you arrive at Marc’s house?”
“Around eight. Well,” she rectified, “I arrived at eight. Aleix
came later. I don’t know what time it was. Nine or something like that . . .”
“OK.” He kept his friendly expression as he looked at her. “And what was the plan?”
She shrugged.
“Nothing in particular . . .”
“But you planned to stay the night, yes?”
The question made her nervous. She looked at her mother, who until then had remained silent, attentive to the questions and answers.
“Yes.”
“And what happened then? You drank, put on music? Had some food?”
Gina half-closed her eyes. Her knee began to tremble.
“Inspector, please,” Regina intervened. “She was already asked all this the day after.” She looked at Agent Castro, seeking confirmation of her words. “It’s been really horrible for her. Marc and Gina knew each other for years; they were like brother and sister.”
“No.” Gina suddenly opened her eyes and her bitter tone surprised them all. “I’m sick of hearing that, Mama! We weren’t brother and sister. I . . . I . . . loved him.” Her mother tried to take her hand but she shook her off and turned to the inspector more decisively. “And yes, we drank, we put on music. We made pizzas in the kitchen. It’s not that we did anything special, but we were together. That was what was special.”
He let her speak without interrupting and gestured to his companion not to say anything.
“Then Aleix arrived. And we had dinner. And we drank more. And we listened to more music. Like we had so many times. We talked about exams, Dublin, the notches on Aleix’s bedpost. It had been a while since all three of us had been together. Like before.”
Regina’s gesture of surprise didn’t pass Héctor unnoticed. It was momentary, a simple arching of the eyebrows, but it was there. Gina continued, ever faster.
“Then a song came on that we liked and we started dancing like crazy, and singing loudly. At least Aleix and I did, because Marc stopped immediately and sat back down. But we kept dancing. It was a party, wasn’t it? We told him so, but he wasn’t in the mood . . . Aleix and I turned up the volume, I don’t remember what was playing. We were dancing for a while until suddenly Marc turned off the music.”
“Was he worried about something?”
“I don’t know . . . He’d become very strange. More serious. I almost hadn’t seen him in the two months he’d been back. I was studying and everything, but he hardly called.”
“But—” Regina interrupted. Her daughter cut her off:
“And then Aleix said that if the party was over, he was going. They argued. And it pissed me off, because I was having a good time, like before. So when Aleix left I asked Marc what was going on.”
She paused and looked on the verge of breaking into tears. “He said, ‘You’ve drunk a lot, you’ll feel awful tomorrow’ or something like that, and it was true, I suppose, but I got angry and I went to his bed and I waited there for a while . . . and, well, I vomited in the bathroom but I cleaned it all up and I felt cold all of a sudden and got into bed because the room was spinning and I was shivering.” Tears
The other shook his head again, glum.
“By the way, where are we going?” asked Aleix.
Again, Rubén didn’t answer.
In the Martís’ salon, Héctor attentively observed the little girl in front of him. Despite her eighteen years, Gina had the air of a defenseless child. And for a while now, uneasy. He told himself the best thing to do was ask her direct questions, at least at the beginning; direct the questioning with neutral inquiries until she felt more comfortable.
“Listen,” he repeated, aiming to reassure her, “we’re only
here to talk to you. I know you don’t feel like remembering what happened that night, so we’ll try to be brief. Just answer my questions, OK?”
She nodded.
“What time did you arrive at Marc’s house?”
“Around eight. Well,” she rectified, “I arrived at eight. Aleix
came later. I don’t know what time it was. Nine or something like that . . .”
“OK.” He kept his friendly expression as he looked at her. “And what was the plan?”
She shrugged.
“Nothing in particular . . .”
“But you planned to stay the night, yes?”
The question made her nervous. She looked at her mother, who until then had remained silent, attentive to the questions and answers.
“Yes.”
“And what happened then? You drank, put on music? Had some food?”
Gina half-closed her eyes. Her knee began to tremble.
“Inspector, please,” Regina intervened. “She was already asked all this the day after.” She looked at Agent Castro, seeking confirmation of her words. “It’s been really horrible for her. Marc and Gina knew each other for years; they were like brother and sister.”
“No.” Gina suddenly opened her eyes and her bitter tone surprised them all. “I’m sick of hearing that, Mama! We weren’t brother and sister. I . . . I . . . loved him.” Her mother tried to take her hand but she shook her off and turned to the inspector more decisively. “And yes, we drank, we put on music. We made pizzas in the kitchen. It’s not that we did anything special, but we were together. That was what was special.”
He let her speak without interrupting and gestured to his companion not to say anything.
“Then Aleix arrived. And we had dinner. And we drank more. And we listened to more music. Like we had so many times. We talked about exams, Dublin, the notches on Aleix’s bedpost. It had been a while since all three of us had been together. Like before.”
Regina’s gesture of surprise didn’t pass Héctor unnoticed. It was momentary, a simple arching of the eyebrows, but it was there. Gina continued, ever faster.
“Then a song came on that we liked and we started dancing like crazy, and singing loudly. At least Aleix and I did, because Marc stopped immediately and sat back down. But we kept dancing. It was a party, wasn’t it? We told him so, but he wasn’t in the mood . . . Aleix and I turned up the volume, I don’t remember what was playing. We were dancing for a while until suddenly Marc turned off the music.”
“Was he worried about something?”
“I don’t know . . . He’d become very strange. More serious. I almost hadn’t seen him in the two months he’d been back. I was studying and everything, but he hardly called.”
“But—” Regina interrupted. Her daughter cut her off:
“And then Aleix said that if the party was over, he was going. They argued. And it pissed me off, because I was having a good time, like before. So when Aleix left I asked Marc what was going on.”
She paused and looked on the verge of breaking into tears. “He said, ‘You’ve drunk a lot, you’ll feel awful tomorrow’ or something like that, and it was true, I suppose, but I got angry and I went to his bed and I waited there for a while . . . and, well, I vomited in the bathroom but I cleaned it all up and I felt cold all of a sudden and got into bed because the room was spinning and I was shivering.” Tears
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