“Do you mean it?”

“I gave you my word. That was the deal. One last case. And then your freedom. Why do you think I’ve come to Barcelona? All this could have been settled over the phone without leaving the Gran Hotel Palace. You know how much I dislike traveling.”

“Then why did you come?”

“To tell you face-to-face. And to say that I’m your friend, and always will be.” Leandro took her hand and smiled. “You’re free, Alicia. Free forever.”

Her eyes filled with tears. Despite herself, she hugged Leandro.

“Whatever happens,” said her mentor, “whatever you do, I want you to know that I’ll always be there. For whatever you may need. No obligations or commitments. The ministry has authorized me to transfer one hundred and fifty thousand pesetas, which will be in your account by the end of this week. I know you’re not going to need me or miss me, but if it’s not too much to ask, call me every now and then, even if it’s only at Christmas. Will you do that?”

Alicia nodded. Leandro kissed her on the forehead and stood up.

“My train leaves in an hour. I’d better make a start for the station. Don’t come to see me off. I won’t hear of it. I don’t like scenes, as you know.”

She walked with him to the door. Just as he was leaving, Leandro turned. For the first time in her life, she thought he suddenly looked shy and embarrassed.

“I’ve never told you what I’m about to say, because I didn’t know whether I had a right to do so, but I think I can now. I have loved you and I love you like a daughter, Alicia. Perhaps I haven’t known how to be the best of fathers, but you’ve been the greatest happiness in my life. I want you to be happy. And that, truly, is my last order.”

5

She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe him with the yearning that comes with the suspicion that truth hurts, and that cowards live longer and better, even if they do so in the prison of their own lies.

She looked out the window to watch Leandro walk over to the car waiting for him on the corner. A driver with dark glasses held the door open for him. It was one of those huge black cars, tanks with tinted windows and a cryptic license plate that were sometimes seen plowing though the traffic like hearses; the sort everyone moved out of the way to avoid because they knew, without having to ask, that they didn’t carry normal people, and the best thing was to step aside. Before he got into the car, Leandro turned around for a second, looked up toward her window, and waved. When Alicia tried to swallow, she found that her mouth was dry. She wanted to believe him.

She spent an hour chain-smoking, walking up and down the apartment like a caged animal. More than once, more than ten times, she went over to the window to scan the other side of the street, hoping to see Vargas in his rooms above the Gran Café. There was no sign of him. He’d had plenty of time to call Madrid and receive his orders. He had probably gone out for a stroll, to clear his head, walking through that Barcelona to which he would soon say good-bye. The last thing he must have wanted right then was to be in Alicia’s company and run the risk of having his eyes pulled out for having told Leandro everything.