“And Cascos buys that?”

“Not quite. He’s an idiot, but not that stupid. He senses there’s something odd and begins to wonder whether the job he accepted is what he’d imagined. Valls continues with the pantomime until coffee is served. Then, when they’ve both become great friends and the minister has promised him a golden future in the company and told him he’s thinking of him as senior management material for the publishing house, he lets the cat out of the bag.”

“A small favor.”

“Exactly. Valls comes out with his love for old bookshops, mainstay and sanctuary of the miracle of literature, in particular his love for the Sempere bookshop, for which he has a special fondness.”

“Does Valls say where this fondness comes from?”

“He doesn’t specify. He’s a bit more precise when it comes to his interest in the Sempere family, in particular in an old friend of the owner’s deceased wife, Isabella, Daniel’s mother.”

“Had Valls met this Isabella Sempere?”

“From what Cascos figured out, he’d met not only Isabella but also a good friend of hers. Guess who? Someone called David Martín.”

“Bingo.”

“Curious, isn’t it? The mysterious name remembered, in extremis, by Doña Mariana during that distant conversation between the minister and his successor as the head of the Montjuïc Castle prison.”

“Go on.”

“Basically, Valls then spelled out his request. The minister would be eternally grateful if Cascos could, deploying his charm, ingenuity, and past devotion for Beatriz, contact her again and, let’s say, repair the burned bridges.”

“Seduce her?”

“To put it one way.”

“What for?”

“To find out whether that man, David Martín, was still alive and had got in touch with the family at any point during all those years.”

“Why didn’t Valls himself ask the Semperes?”

“Again, Cascos asked him the same question.”

“And the minister replied . . .”

“That it was a delicate subject, of a personal nature, and for unrelated reasons he would rather just sound things out and find out whether there was any basis in his suspicion that Martín was somewhere behind the scenes.”

“What happened?”

“Well, Cascos, bold as brass, began to write flowery letters to his old lover.”

“Did he get any answers?”

“Ah, you mischievous pixie, I can see you appreciate a good bedroom intrigue . . .”

“Focus, Vargas.”

“Sorry. As I was saying, not at first. Beatriz, recent mother and wife, ignores the advances of this would-be Don Juan. But Cascos doesn’t give up and begins to realize he’s got a golden opportunity to recover what was taken away from him.”

“Storm clouds in the marriage of Beatriz and Daniel?”

“Who knows? Too young a couple, married in a rush and with a child on the way before tying the knot . . . a perfect picture of fragility. The fact is that weeks go by and Bea doesn’t reply to his letters. And Valls keeps insisting. Cascos begins to fret. Valls implies an ultimatum. Cascos sends a final letter to Beatriz, summoning her to a tryst in a suite at the Ritz.”