The Angel's Game (The Cemetery of Forgotten 2)
Page 93
“You couldn’t say anything that wasn’t already said at the time, I suppose,” Valera said, more to himself than to me.
The lawyer looked briefly at his father’s portrait and then fixed his eyes on me.
“Diego Marlasca was my father’s partner and his best friend. Together they founded this law firm. Señor Marlasca was a brilliant lawyer. Unfortunately he was also a very complicated man, subject to long periods of melancholy. There came a time when my father and Señor Marlasca decided to dissolve their partnership. Señor Marlasca left the legal profession to devote himself to his first vocation, writing. They say most lawyers secretly wish to leave the profession and become writers—”
“Until they compare the salaries.”
“The fact is that Don Diego had struck up a friendship with Irene Sabino, quite a popular actress at the time, for whom he wanted to write a play. That was all. Señor Marlasca was a gentleman and was never unfaithful to his wife, but you know what people are like. Gossip. Rumors and jealousy. Anyhow, word got round that Don Diego was having an affair with Irene Sabino. His wife never forgave him, and the couple separated. Señor Marlasca was shattered. He bought the tower house and moved in. Sadly, he’d been living there only a year when he died in an unfortunate accident.”
“What sort of accident?”
“Señor Marlasca drowned. It was a tragedy.”
Valera lowered his eyes.
“And the scandal?”
“Let’s just say there were those with evil tongues who wanted people to believe that Señor Marlasca had committed suicide after an unhappy love affair with Irene Sabino.”
“And was that so?”
Valera removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. I don’t know and I don’t care. What happened, happened.”
“What became of Irene Sabino?”
Valera put his glasses on again.
“I thought you were interested only in Señor Marlasca and the ownership of the house.”
“It’s simple curiosity. Among Señor Marlasca’s belongings I found a number of photographs of Irene Sabino, as well as letters from her to Señor Marlasca …”
“What are you getting at?” Valera snapped. “Is it money you want?”
“No.”
“I’m glad, because nobody is going to give you any. Nobody cares about the subject anymore. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly, Señor Valera. I had no intention of bothering you or insinuating that anything was untoward. I’m sorry if I offended you with my questions.”
The lawyer smiled and let out a gentle sigh, as if the conversation had already ended.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m the one who should apologize.”
Taking advantage of the lawyer’s conciliatory tone, I put on my sweetest expression.
“Perhaps his widow …”
Valera shrank into his armchair, visibly uncomfortable.
“Doña Alicia Marlasca? Señor Martín, please don’t misunderstand me, but part of my duty as the family lawyer is to preserve their privacy. For obvious reasons. A lot of time has gone by and I wouldn’t like to see old wounds reopened unnecessarily.”
“I understand.”
The lawyer was looking at me tensely.
“And you say you found a book?” he asked.